Shutter (2 page)

“I was just thinking, I haven’t seen a mating ritual like that since watching the Animal Channel. It would be simpler to just go over there and sniff her, and then maybe the hamburger I just ate wouldn’t come back up from watching the two of you.” She smiled.

Antonio knew he shouldn’t say the first thing that popped into his head. That she was jealous he wasn’t flirting with her. The angelic red-haired aberration and the wisecracking scarf woman were as different as night and day. Scarf woman had on overalls, for heaven’s sakes! She was essentially covered from head to toe, looking more like a vagabond than a grown woman whose age he couldn’t determine.

“It’s just human nature, I suppose.” He glanced back at the woman sitting at the table. “We all have a mating dance. Some are more obvious than others.”

“Some are more sickening than others.” Scarf woman shook her head.

“Cynic.”

“Whore,” she shot back at him.

“Did you actually just call me a whore? You don’t even know me.” He laughed, put his hand on his chest, and feigned indignation.

“I don’t have to know you. What you are is written all over your face.” She smirked.

Antonio knew he was headed down the wrong road with this fireball. But what the hell. He had time to kill until Felix came home.

He ordered quickly when the waitress appeared, then turned his attention back to the scarf woman. “OK, tell me all about myself,” he said with a devilish smile.

Scarf woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “You are a narcissist, who is probably the baby of the family. Always got what you wanted and is never in short supply of women. The camera is your ruse to lure women into your tacky web of seduction. Little do they know that they are just a prop for your entertainment. I bet you could bat those pretty, light-brown eyes and get any woman to do as you please. And that is thrilling to you. Knowing you can gain such immediate control over some unsuspecting bimbo’s life so easily.”

Antonio said sweetly, “So you think my eyes are pretty?”

“I rest my case.” She smiled and slid off her stool.

If she was trying to make a graceful exit, that went down the toilet. Scarf woman had bags and a huge purse. When her feet firmly touched the floor he could see she was much shorter than him.

“You have a good day,” he said, half sorry to see her go. “And your name is?” He was sure Felix would have seen this weird creature flitting around town.

“I was just born yesterday. Don’t have a name yet,” she said as she walked out of the café.

Antonio laughed, thinking that women like that would forever be angry with the Simones of the world. With her crazy colorful overalls, that damn double-wrapped scarf, and the cluster of bags she juggled, this woman obviously didn’t want anyone to see her. Still, he felt compelled to pick up his camera and snap her picture as she turned right out the door and walked past the window. And he had seemingly forgotten all about his angelic aberration Simone sitting at the table. He’d been so enthralled with his conversation with the scarf lady that he hadn’t even seen her leave.

By the time Antonio got back to Felix’s place, it was six thirty. After leaving the Metro he decided to watch a movie and ended up falling asleep during the foreign film. He magically awakened as it was ending to see the two main characters hugging while floating on a life raft in the middle of the ocean. That intrigued him because he could have sworn the story began in a desert.

Felix rushed in, grabbed him, and gave him a hug. “Hey man. Good to see you! We’re late for a meeting at the theater. Let’s go.”

* * *

They entered the auditorium to see introductions had already started. The “circle” was a preproduction meeting they had before they got down to business. This year they were going with a new play written by Blake Rutherford, the resident scribe. It was a satirical fairy tale titled
Awakened by the Wrong Prince
. The committee scoffed at the idea until Felix informed them that trying something new wouldn’t kill them.

Antonio eyed the crowd, more importantly the women in the crowd. The stage was filled with good-looking women. The crowd began to applaud the person who was in the middle of the circle.

Then, like a nightmare come true, Scarf woman appeared and began to speak. “Good evening everyone. My name is Lucy and I am the set designer. I have been a set designer for a long time. I include the years spent rearranging my mother’s house and even my grandma’s from time to time. I see from Blake’s script I will be spending a lot of time constructing fairy-tale trees, so don’t mind me if you see me around. I hope everyone will have a great time and make our scribe Blake proud.”

The crowd applauded but Lucy had stepped back and opted not to take her moment in the spotlight. Antonio couldn’t believe his luck. He would probably be working with Scarf woman. But she had a name now. And it was Lucy. Funny, she didn’t look like a Lucy, but then again, what did a Lucy look like? He snapped himself out of the fanciful daydream and started taking pictures of the circle.

“I met her today at the Metro. We had quite an interesting conversation,” he whispered to Felix.

“If you were trying to pick Lucy up I am sure she shot you down.” Felix laughed.

“No, I wasn’t. She served as precoitus interruptus to this redhead I had my eye on.”

Felix gave his friend a shocked look. “Never seen you get sidetracked before when it came to getting some ass.”

“I know. She called me a narcissistic whore.”

“How long did you two talk?”

“About five minutes.” He laughed.

“And she got your number that quickly?” Felix snickered.

“But she slipped in an offhanded compliment about my eyes. She probably didn’t think I’d notice.”

“And let me guess. She wants you.”

“She doesn’t want to want me, but she does,” Antonio drawled.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you Antonio. I don’t think your ego can fit into this auditorium. No, make that town. No, make that state.”

“I get your point.” Antonio flashed a big bad wolf smile.

“My goodness. I’ve unleashed a plague on my town.” Felix sighed.

Felix took his turn in the circle, so Antonio took his opportunity to slide in next to Lucy. “Well. Well. Well. You do have a name,” Antonio said in a whispered breath so only she could hear.

“If it’s all the same to you, why don’t you forget it?” Lucy returned in an equally low tone.

“How could I forget a name like Lucy?” Antonio smiled. “Lucy, the woman who wears scarves, colorful overalls, has silky brown hair, and makes snap judgments about people.”

“You’re taking that assessment rather hard for a narcissist. I’m sure someone must have told you before that the world doesn’t revolve around you.” She shrugged.

“Not lately.” Antonio turned and looked her directly in the eye. As he guessed, she looked away. He often found it a test of wills when people met eye to eye. People weren’t willing to make eye contact anymore. The eyes were supposedly the windows to the soul and the harbinger of the truth. Lucy may have been feisty and opinionated, but she wasn’t ready to hold his gaze, knowing she could probably read what his eyes were telling her.

“I must say I am surprised you are friends with Felix. He is so warm and sweet and you are…” she said, smiling again. “You are not Felix.”

“Hey, Luce.” Felix gave her a hug.

“Felix. Always good to see my favorite person.” Lucy giggled.

“I see you’ve met my rogue of a friend Antonio.”

“Yes. That’s another word to add to his profile,” she countered.

As if divine intervention was beckoned, a few of the women not so casually came over to investigate Antonio. Lucy took the opportunity to remove herself from the conversation. She wandered over to the buffet table and grabbed a handful of grapes and a bottle of water while gazing at the stage. This would be the third time she decorated this stage, thanks to Felix. Ivan, the previous set designer, was good friends with a few people on the committee and won the job hands down every year, and she was relegated as his assistant. That was until Felix arrived. He stood up for her and said he wouldn’t participate unless she was given an opportunity to design for one of the plays. Felix continued to say that every set Ivan had done looked like a room in his loft and he challenged them to get a fresh look for the production. Ivan stormed off, never to be heard from again. Well, not really. He still lived in town, but was planning a theatrical coup to be executed any moment. Never had theater been so theatrical, she mused.

She picked up a copy of the script and began flipping through it. Apparently beneath that stuffy facade and Ivy League education, Blake did have a sense of humor. She was happy for him getting his chance to have his words come to life. She was concerned about his choices in casting. He did have input and like the man that he inherently was, he cast a wannabe movie starlet in the lead role because of her looks. But she should not concern herself with yet another man who opted for beauty over something with more substance. She would concentrate on the forest she had to construct for him. Over lunch one day he’d told her he wanted “menacingly innocent” trees. She’d smiled and eaten her pasta, and Blake had smiled back because she didn’t ask him to explain what he meant.

The number of vultures had increased around Antonio and he was in his glory, holding court to his newly acquired adoring fans. Lucy continued reading the script, but every once in a while she’d glance up and see him looking in her direction. Instead of the grapes, she could have gone for a candy bar.

With script in hand, she moved around the stage, envisioning some of the scenes in the play. For a moment she was lost in her own world, a private forest where she was one with the animals and there were no humans in sight. By the time she’d finished walking behind the big curtain and getting reacquainted with her second home, almost everyone was gone. It worked every time. She prided herself on her invisibility and no one, when she slipped away, ever bothered to look for her.

“Where did you disappear to?” She heard a booming voice. The empty stage now served as a ricocheting sound beacon. It was Antonio.

“Why are you still here? The party is over.”

“But the game has just begun,” he murmured.

“I do not intend to be your entertainment while you’re visiting Felix.”

“Well, Lucy. By the way, you don’t look like a Lucy.” Antonio strolled over to her.

And there he was, standing there like some sort of light-brown eyed Adonis waiting to be pleased. He was about six foot two and had a muscular build. She could see the silhouette of his muscles brushing up against the pale blue shirt he wore. When he stood in that haughty, confident stance he had, the definition of his long, lean, muscular jean-encased legs left no room for interpretation. He could probably wrestle a bear with those thighs. His skin was a light brown, like the cinnamon sugar she used in her apple pies.

Lucy took a step back if not for her own sanity then for his safety. She almost got caught up in the hype of this man. He, by all accounts, was what grown-up women dreams were made of, and he knew it.

“I think it will be interesting, the two of us working together.”

“I’m glad one of us thinks so.”

“Would it be so bad to admit that you like me?” he said mischievously as he played with her scarf.

“I don’t like you. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure I’d rather be poked in the eye than spend one more minute with you.” She huffed. “And if you’re finished molesting my scarf, I have to go.”

Lucy haughtily walked off the stage, putting her exit at the Metro to shame. As she hiked up the aisle, a part of her was dying to look back and see if he was still watching her. Then the more civilized part of her kept moving, knowing it would be an acknowledgment of the festering attraction to him. But still, he was very easy on the eyes. If only she could get him to stop talking, he’d be perfect.

Chapter Two

Antonio sat in a chair on the rooftop garden—what Felix dubbed his Urban Eden—downloading the pictures his niece Zaria had sent him. It was more than a year ago that he took her under his wing and began to teach her about photography. She was a quick learner, which he knew she would be. After all, she had already skipped a few grades in school. Her current study was taking pictures of her precocious little brothers, who had the whole household chasing after them. Zaria did indeed have the gift of seeing more than the obvious behind a lens. He was proud of her and they talked often. When she called, she would rattle on and he would listen attentively, getting caught up in her unique perspective of the world. And when she called him Uncle Ant, which she did several times during each conversation, it made him smile.

He took notes on the pictures. In addition to pictures of her brothers were pictures of some of the flowers in the garden and apparently they’d visited the zoo recently. Then there was a shot of Lauren and Alejandro sitting at the table in the kitchen. There was a lazy intimacy about the two of them grabbing quality time before their children found them again.

He threw a few steaks on the grill while looking over the input e-mails from the theater production team. He had been added to the e-mail chain, and a simple reply to all had him privy to the inner workings of a community theater play. He did notice that more than once the writer Blake had made some offhanded flirtatious remarks to Lucy. She would respond back with a flirty note, but he got the feeling Blake and Lucy were on different wavelengths with the flirting.

“Antonio, you gorgeous man. I’m home!” Felix bellowed from downstairs.

“Just in time for lunch. Bring up a bottle of wine, would you?”

Felix made his way up to the rooftop and took a seat at the table.

“I’ve been reading the community production e-mail chain,” he said.

“And?”

“Blake has a thing for Lucy.”

“I think so.” Felix laughed. “Do you have a thing for Lucy?”

“Come on, Felix.” Antonio huffed. “She’s—”