Page 93 of Hello Stranger

“She was just featured inSciencemagazine. She’s brilliant.”

“So…” I said then, just to irritate him. “You’re dating a brilliant herpesologist.”

“Herpetologist,” he said, making a couple oftuh, tuhnoises afterward to emphasize the T. “And we’re not dating.”

That perked me up a little, though I’d never admit it.

It perked me up so much, in fact, that I did not submit any follow-up questions—on the chance that he might follow “We’re not dating” with something ghastly like “We’re just sleeping together.”

Don’t ask, don’t tell. What he did or didn’t do with the snake-a-tologist was his business.

“I can’t pay you,” I said then. “Not with money, anyway.”

That got his attention. “What will you pay me with?”

“Well,” I said, “I can’t give you the portrait itself, because they’re auctioning those off.”

“That’s okay,” Joe said, all deadpan. “I have too many portraits of myself already.”

“So,” I went on, businesslike. “Let’s just say you can have whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” he asked, like it was too good to be true.

“Within reason,” I said. “If you want me to paint something for you, or if you want me to buy you dinner or give you an art lesson, maybe. Whatever you can think of.”

“Are you giving me a blank check?” he asked.

“No!”

“Sounds like a blank check to me.”

“I’m saying you and I can find a mutually agreed-on form of payment at some point.”

“So in other words,” Joe said, the delight of teasing me pretty clear in his voice, “a blank check.”

Eighteen

SUE’S ELOPING WASa bummer for many reasons.

One, I’d be missing my best friend’s wedding.

Two, all the stuff I was about to do to Joe was nerve-racking to say the least. He had no idea what he was in for.

And three, Sue had promised to be my date to the art show.

Which was the worst bummer of all.

Because when you have to do something genuinely scary, it’s nice to have a friend.

I’d be all alone. Just standing straight and brittle with crazy eyes and a quavery smile all night while I waited for a bunch of portrait critics in tortoiseshell glasses to render judgment on my talent, my value as a human being, and my entire future.

So, yeah. Was eloping to Canada really more important than keeping me from dying of misery?

I could see both sides.

Anyway, Sue had been fully on board to help me survive it all.

Until she got kidnapped, that is.

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