The Reluctant Nude by Meg Maguire

Author:Meg Maguire
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Romance, General, Contemporary, Fiction
ISBN: 9781609284190
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Published: 2011-04-05T07:18:03+00:00

Max did a little dance of uncertainty, caught halfway between the ringing door and the whistling kettle. He chose the door, pulling it open and then dashing across the studio to flip off the burner.

“Good morning,” he shouted to where he assumed Fallon would be. Then he sensed something different about her energy—she wasn’t alone. He turned to find her standing alongside a tiny woman with a halo of kinky, curly dark hair, even wilder than Fallon’s.

“Why, hello.” He returned their matching smiles and crossed the studio. “I’m Max Emery.”

“Rachel Stein.” She came forward and shook his hand warmly with her child-sized one, black eyes smiling. She was five-feet-nothing and at least three inches of it belonged to her authoritative heels. Pretty in a quirky, bohemian sort of way.

“It is good to meet you,” Max said.

“You too. Thanks for the invitation. Wow, this place is rad.” Her eyes scanned his sunny little empire. “I could get a tan in here.”

Fallon shouldered her bag, looking uncertain. “Do I get the day off, in light of this underhanded surprise visit?” she asked Max.

“Yes, I suppose.” He frowned internally, sad to lose the momentum of the last couple of days, the trajectory of both their rapport and his progress on the statue. He suddenly wished he hadn’t made that call. “Will you stay for coffee? So that I may grill your friend for personal information about you?”

“Um, sure. We don’t have anything scheduled.” Fallon put her bag down and dragged a pair of folding chairs over.

Max prepared the mugs and joined them, leaning on the edge of the worktable. “So Rachel, you are Fallon’s flatmate?”

“Housemate, yes. And therapist,” she added with a smile.

“Don’t listen to her,” Fallon said.

Max glowed to see her so clearly pleased with this morsel of normality. “What do you do for work?” he asked Rachel.

“I’m a teacher. High school life sciences, in Queens.”

He tried to picture this petite thing exerting authority over a classroom of rowdy urban teenagers. Strangely enough, he found he could.

“Fallon and I went to grad school together,” Rachel added.

“I see. And how is she as a housemate?” He caught Fallon shifting in her seat, torn between protest and permissiveness.

“Oh, she’s a dream. Clean, dependable, fabulous cook?” Rachel looked to Fallon for confirmation.

“I suppose.”

“Her eggplant parmesan is famous. And she wears seamed pantyhose and lipstick when she vacuums,” Rachel added. Fallon kicked her ankle with her sneaker. “Just kidding. She wears a French maid costume.”

Max smiled and turned to Fallon. “What else don’t I know about you?”

“Nothing terribly interesting,” she said, sounding shy.

“She’s very modest,” Rachel said warmly. “Although that’s probably not the side of her you see—”

Fallon interjected. “So, anyhow. What will you be doing while we’re off exploring?” she asked Max.

He shrugged. “I could do some gardening. Does Fallon do any gardening?” he asked Rachel quickly, knowing she’d happily supply any information he asked for. She clearly enjoyed teasing her friend as much as he did.

“Oh, a bit. Our yard’s about as big as a napkin, but she does some veggies.

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