Page 64 of Obsession

“I—what is this?”

“This is a modern convenience called a helicopter.” The devil on my shoulder made me grin.

Or maybe it was just relief that she’d actually shown up.

“I know that. Why is it here? We aren’t—no. Why would we?”

“Because it’s a quick, convenient method of travel. No traffic,” I said lightly, holding up my phone. Luckily, I had discreetly exited out of the coloring book app with my thumb. “Handy, since you’re late.”

“I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”

Her flushed face and bright eyes—revealed by the roof’s powerful lighting—made me frown. Her rosy cheeks could’vebeen caused by rushing. The glow that settled around her like starlight, however, could not.

I moved toward her. “Where have you been?”

What have you been doing? And with who?

I had no right to ask her. She was a free woman, just as I was a free man. We had no hold on each other. Yet the idea she might’ve been with someone who putthatlook in her eye?—

“My studio.” Her throat bobbed and she tucked a piece of flyaway hair behind her ear. “I’ve been working on this piece forever and it just wouldn’t come together, but today somehow it did. It was like this fever came over me…” She bit her lip and shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

I did understand, all too well. I’d understood it all the nights I’d been driven to sketch, and sculpt, and design for my own pleasure first, long before it had become the way I made my living. Now my artistry, such as it was, was responsible for the paychecks of all those I employed.

Flights of fancy weren’t permitted.

Except on the showcase level of Carson Covenant Inc. And in my sketchbook.

And hell, in that ridiculous app she’d told me about, where the whirls of colors competed with black and white designs that made me want to shade outside the lines.

To fuck a beautiful girl whom I could never, ever have and to take a helicopter ride over downtown Boston on a clear night, just because I could.

Because she would be at my side, and she would enjoy it too.

I stepped closer. “What piece did you complete?”

She tugged on the sides of her short jacket, pulling them down as if they could protect her from the brisk wind. Beneath it she wore a long, floaty dress made of melting blues and greens that perfectly matched her eyes. The dress whipped around her calves, but she didn’t seem to notice, focused as she was on me.

“I didn’t complete it yet. It’s an angel. Made of panes of colored glass, bound together with copper and wire. I’d originally wanted it to have a light behind it, something to make the glass shine. But I realized it should be hung in a window, so that it could reflect the light that already existed.”

“A suncatcher.”

The somewhat childish term didn’t offend her. Instead, she smiled faintly. “Yes. Higher end, of course. But yes.”

I walked to the helicopter and then removed the narrow cardboard box I’d stowed within. Wordlessly, I handed it to her.

She withdrew one of the blue-tinted rectangular boxes of glass. They’d been treated with special paint to enhance the glass’s reflective qualities, and the base was sturdy enough to hold a battery-operated tealight. Or a real candle if someone was feeling brave.

“A lantern,” she said, tracing her finger over the embossed words along the base.

Find Jimmy.

Not pray for him, not think about him, not spread the word. He needed to befound.

“With enough light, you can banish the darkness.” As soon as the words were out, I looked away, feeling like a grade-A asshole. But when I glanced back at her, she was still studying the lantern, nodding.

“I guess my suncatcher needs to be bigger.”

I don’t know why that made me laugh, but it did. I’d never known anyone who understood what it was to marry art and business, even if we were on opposite sides of that table.

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