Page 74 of Beware of Dog

Yes, she thought,my Frank certainly is.

“The second thing,” he continued, “is that a select group of my graduate students are hosting a gallery show in July, and I’d like you to participate. If you’re willing, of course.”

“A gallery show?” she breathed, stunned. “But…”

“Here.” He produced a flier from his desk drawer and passed it over. “It’s a mix of comic artists and animators and street artists. The theme is ‘Unconventional Beauty.’” He smiled at her, kind and eager. “There’s a place for you, if you want it.”

~*~

“Agallery?” Shep asked a few minutes later by his parked bike. “That’s some VIP shit, kiddo.”

Never mind he’d had his tongue inside her, his praise left her face heated. “It’s a nice offer. It’s a start, anyway.”

They arrived at Raven’s building amidst the thick of rush hour traffic, and Shep slanted his bike in the same reservedparking place where Toly kept his Harley. They didn’t worry about arriving together anymore, because Raven and Toly never seemed to find it out of the ordinary. After dinner, when they left each time, Shep would say, “I’ll make sure she gets home safe,” and Raven would say, “Thanks, Shep.”

Tonight, though…tonight would be different. Cass just didn’t know it yet.

~*~

Dinner was spaghetti with rustic meatballs, and more bread than Raven would ever have deemed appropriate on any other occasion. A two-tiered chocolate cake decorated with frosting roses waited on the kitchen island, and crepe streamers reached from the chandelier to the corners of the room. It was clear Raven was going for festive, right down to the ridiculous party hats that Raven of course could pull off, but which made the rest of them look stupid.

Maybe it was the idea of being in a gallery show, or the fact that she was no longer a teenager, or the idea of those badly-wrapped presents at home, and the way Shep had draped a hand over the back of her chair and didn’t seem inclined to move it, but Cass was hyped up, and she and Shep couldn’t seem to stop joyously bickering.

“Go back and watch it, and you’ll see I’m right,” Cass insisted.

“I don’t have to.” Shep wore a wide, manic grin. They were turned in their chairs so they faced each other, his arm still along the back of hers, the other braced on the table between their plates, save when he was gesturing, like he was now. “I saw that shit in theaters on opening weekend! Before you were fucking born!”

Cass was smiling, too; her face hurt from it. “Which means you need to watch it again and see that I’m right because your old-man memory is shit!”

“Bullshit.” He rapped his knuckles on his forehead. “Steel trap, baby.”

She leaned in to knock at it, too, right where laughter was pressing lines up into his still-thick-as-hell hairline. “Sorry.” She made a dramatic pouting face. “It’s hollow.”

He snorted and snatched her wrist out of the air.

“Children.” The sharp crack of Raven’s voice froze them both in place.

Shep’s eyes widened before he schooled his face into something casual, let go of her, and slumped back around in his chair.

With something like horror, Cass realized she was kneeling in the seat of her chair. She sat back down on her bum, knees under the table, and was relieved to feel Shep’s arm still draped over her chair. They’d gotten caught, but he wasn’t retreating outright, and that meant something.

Across the table, Raven’s gaze pinged between them, huge, and blue, and alarmed. She blinked once they’d settled, shook her head, and laughed down at her plate. “Goodness, you two are in a mood tonight. No more champagne for you, Cass.”

Relief left her weak-kneed. “I only had one glass.”

“One too many, apparently,” Raven said, as she went back to picking through her salad.

“Ugh.” God, that had been close. That had been…

Too late, she noted the way Toly was staring at her, narrow-eyed.

~*~

They cut the cake, and then Raven announced it was time for presents. Toly stood to gather the plates, and Raven set aseries of beautifully-wrapped boxes on the coffee table in front of her.

A sideways glance proved Shep was frowning at the wrap job, corner of his mouth tucked in that way Cass had learned meant he was self-conscious. She wanted to snap a photo, but refrained. Pulled the first box into her lap instead and tugged the bow loose.

Raven was never going to tire, it seemed, of trying to get Cass to adopt a chic personal style. She unwrapped a whole pile of clothes from Raven’s personal line: spring sweaters, trousers, blouses, skirts, and even several dresses. All of it was beautiful, and none of it felt like Cass.

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