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“I do say, Mr. De Soto.” Felix matched his droll voice.

Lucy knew there was more than a possibility that Antonio would be at the party. And that there was a chance he would be there with Monica. Why not? They’d gone out and obviously expressed interest in each other. Monica flitting around in her dangerously short little black dress was the perfect accompaniment to the visiting Dominican stud that half the women in town were drooling over.

Blake’s invitation came at the right time. It seemed that just when she was about to give in and ponder the fact that she almost slept with Antonio, Blake would be right there to distract her. And she had no energy and no interest in solitary self-pity to turn him down. Blake may not have been smoking hot, but he did have intellect, strategically styled bed head, and a goofy sense of humor.

Determined to minimize the discomfort she might feel this evening, Lucy devised a plan to stay away from Antonio De Soto and his sex kitten date. As Blake faded away to commiserate with some writer friends, Lucy found herself circling the world’s biggest papier-mâché bull that was painted red and purple.

Each time she circled, she drifted farther away in her mind. Flashes of her and Antonio in bed flooded her senses. For a moment she could feel his warm breath on her neck, making her skin pulsate.

She stopped in her tracks. Even her total recall didn’t evoke such a strong reaction. She turned to find Antonio standing right behind her.

Antonio moved in a little closer to her and murmured, “What exactly is it about this bull that you find so enchanting?”

“Actually he reminds me a little bit of you,” she bit back.

“Is that why you have goose bumps on your arms?” He smirked.

Lucy glared at him. “I sensed you were here and started to get sick.”

“Liar. You’ve been looking for me since you got here.”

“Have not,” she said defiantly.

“Your eyes may not have been looking for me, but there was another body part that had its antenna up.”

“You’re such a jerk. Just because I made the mistake of almost sleeping with you once doesn’t mean I burn an eternal flame for you.” She stepped closer and put her hands on her hips.

“I am sure you are not likely to forget what we did, and I bet you’ve wanted to do it again,” Antonio cooed.

Before she knew it Lucy had turned twelve different shades of red. She couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Lucy,” Antonio said in a soft, melodic tone.

“Leave me alone,” she said quietly.

“I did not say that to embarrass you. It’s more me bragging than trying to embarrass you. I wasn’t expecting you to be so passionate that night. And I loved the way you responded to me.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s Monica’s turn now. I have a feeling you won’t need any props with her.”

“Monica and I haven’t slept together.”

“But you will tonight. Won’t you? She’s charged up like a battery and the two of you have this…chemistry with one another. It’s clear the two of you were meant to be together.” Lucy managed a slight smile and tried to walk away, but Antonio grabbed her hand.

“And I suppose you were meant to be with Patches?” Antonio motioned over to Blake. “He may be a good writer, but Blake has the personality of a pancake.”

“Leave him alone,” she snipped.

“No, Lucy, I think you should leave him alone,” Antonio scoffed.

“I like him. He’s nice, attentive, funny, and doesn’t spend his time calculating who he can get into bed. He bought me flowers and took me on dates and still hasn’t tried to sleep with me. We’ve been out together four times and he hasn’t even made one creepy move.”

“That’s because guys like Blake are more ‘six or seven date, make a move’ type of guy. You can be sure he goes to sleep clutching his dick in his hands like any other red-blooded male. He’s not pious by any means. He’s just too damn chicken.”

“You know it’s sweet sometimes. A man being scared to make a move because he knows what it will mean to the woman, to the relationship. Instead of going full steam ahead then figuring out how to pick up the pieces.”

They must have been getting louder because Felix came over waving a white handkerchief he had in his pocket.

“The handkerchief is for the bull. He’s been sweating ever since you two started chatting next to him.” Felix smiled.

Lucy took a deep breath. “Felix, always good to see you.”

“You too, love.” Felix kissed her on the cheek.

“If you will excuse me, I have to find my date.” Lucy slid away and went in search of Blake.

“You know,” Felix said quickly, “why is it when I’m around you two I always feel like I need a tall drink to cool me down?”

“Because that woman gets me hot.” He glared at Felix.

“You are a psychologist’s dream, Antonio.” Felix patted him on the back and walked away.

Chapter Seven

Felix hummed along to the song on the radio as they cruised the winding road. Antonio hadn’t said a word since they’d left town in search of the culinary store that was holding a wok that Felix had ordered. He could have had it shipped, but he thought the drive would be nice and Antonio would get to take some pictures along the way. But instead of his usual shutterbug mania, Antonio was brooding like a kid who’d been punished. Antonio refused to admit his sullen mood was due to his run-in with Lucy at the gallery. It had been six weeks since his friend came for a visit; he was sure Antonio had lost track of the time. He’d never known him to stay in one place too long.

“Any particular reason you’re not taking photos?” Felix asked casually.

“Not in the mood today,” Antonio grumbled.

“You not being in the mood to take a picture is right up there with you not being in the mood and dropping Monica off at a respectable time.”

“Am I really that transparent? Everyone seems to think I have two speeds.”

“No. I would not presume to call you shallow, my friend. You are the kind of man who lives in the moment and enjoys it. Always kind of happy-go-lucky. I am not used to seeing you brooding and confused. I know you have emotions. I’ve never seen you display any before.”

“I am not immune to having or displaying feelings. I just think they are a colossal waste of time.”

“Lucy doesn’t. She feels everything from the depths of her soul.”

“I saw her walking down the main street the other day. I called out and waved to her. I think she stuck her middle finger up at me.” Antonio couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Hey, that’s something,” Felix replied. “Do you and that woman live to drive each other crazy?”

“Maybe we do.” He sighed.

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Punch Blake out and make him go away.” Antonio smiled.

“So you want her to stop seeing him?”

“Yes.”

“Would you be willing to stop seeing Monica?”

He thought about it for a moment. “Yes.”

“Then why are you being a jackass and not putting this all into motion?”

“Well.” He let out a big sigh. “I don’t know what it means if I put all of this into motion, and she did give me the finger the other day.”

“We’re going to pick up my wok, then we’re going to head back and make you an honest man.”

“Felix, it’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but why are you helping me? I know Lucy is your friend.”

“Because two stubborn people that I love can’t see they were made for each other.”

* * *

The news of the mirrors was getting around so quickly, Lucy had to take stock of her one-woman band. People were calling and coming into the store inquiring about when she could design something special for them. As Felix had suggested jokingly one night at the theater, she would have to consider hiring someone to help her out. The only trouble was that she liked working alone. After two near misses in corporate America, she’d dedicated herself to finding a way to be in her own element, out of the stifling feel of the four fabric-covered cubicle walls she swore sent out anti-individuality rays. She talked to her grandmother, who took out a second mortgage on her home, and the rest was history.

“Nana! Have you gone mad?” she’d asked her dear grandmother when she’d brought her a check for fifty thousand dollars.

“Heavens no. I have at least ten more years before you’ll have to become executor of my affairs.” Her grandmother chuckled.

“I can’t let you do this.” Lucy sniffed. “I can’t let you gamble your future on my dream.”

“I have faith in you, Lucia. I’ve had faith in you since you showed me your first sketch from art class in kindergarten. You have something, sweetie, and even if you doubt yourself, that talent will still be with you. Your mother and father blessed you with their talent. You grew up and made it your own. Follow your dreams. Even if your dreams tell you to fly to the sun. Do it! Go! And if you get too close and the sun burns your wings, you can fall back to earth knowing you tried your best.”

“I don’t want you to be homeless.” Lucy put her head on her grandmother’s shoulder.

Nana laughed at her. “And I don’t want you to be unhappy. People spend too much time looking forward to the day when they will be happy. Happiness is today. It is not a collection of tomorrows waiting to be.”

The first time Lucy turned the key and opened the door of her new shop, the separation of the door from the frame made her feel queasy. Then the door chime sounded and began to play its own unique tune and she felt like she’d found her own little wonderland. The store was bare and there was much work to be done. She had spent three years of her life renovating that store. She’d met some of her closest friends there.

Felix walked through her door one day and her life changed forever. She lived in color, but he was color. He was a muse in his argyle sweater vest and light pink dress shirt.

And now she was going to be an employer. She just wanted someone trustworthy to do the bookkeeping while she worked on her pieces. Someone who wouldn’t bore her to death with their mundane problems or rob her blind. She needed someone who knew artists were temperamental and quirky and that their lives went more according to whims than calendars.

She nervously put the Help Wanted sign in the window that she’d picked up from the hardware store down the street. That sign signaled she was inviting someone to come in and share her dream and that she was willing to accept help when she needed it.

* * *

As Antonio and Felix neared the store, both couldn’t help notice that it was packed with people. Lucy was at the register ringing up a sale and looked frazzled. So frazzled, in fact, she had two scarves wrapped around her neck.

“Looks like we got here just in time,” Felix mused.

Felix charged in and immediately began helping a customer.

Antonio went behind the counter and took the chair she was so awkwardly trying to wrap out of her hands. He informed the customer he would load it in the car. Lucy smiled and nodded, giving him a silent thank-you, and went on to the next person in line.

By seven o’clock, Lucy was finally able to turn the Closed sign over in the window. She let out a big sigh and looked around the store. Surprisingly, things were relatively in their place and nothing was broken. Her two guardian angels were sitting in the antique chairs she’d acquired last week, looking exhausted.

“I don’t know how to thank you guys.” She beamed.

“Wine,” Felix cried.

“Food,” Antonio bellowed.

Lucy whipped out the menu from a Chinese restaurant down the street and phoned in an order for a ton of food. Then she went into the back room and brought out two bottles of chilled wine from the fridge.

“I told you news of your genius was getting around,” Felix said affectionately.

Lucy sank against the counter. “I wasn’t expecting all this.”

“Sure you were,” Antonio said quietly.

Lucy laughed. “And why do you think that?”

“You put a Help Wanted sign in the window.”

The food arrived and the guys made a makeshift table while Lucy wrangled some of the chairs for sale in the store. She had to admit it was nice sitting with friends, shooting the breeze and having a good time. She missed Felix, but she knew as long as Antonio was staying at his house she didn’t want to venture over there.

Antonio seemed to be off his game tonight. He wasn’t sending her the usual enigmatic stares. In fact, he was barely looking at her at all. Sure, the conversation was polite enough and Felix was his usual charming self, but Antonio seemed to go mute. He was on his sixth dumpling and didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. Lucy wondered often how men could eat like that. Felix ate controlled portions; she was used to that. But Antonio ate like a quarterback beefing up for football season.

She pushed around a piece of chicken on her plate, trying to decide if it was worth not being able to move after she took that last piece. Antonio leaned over and started eating some broccoli off her plate.

“So Luce, back to this Help Wanted sign,” Felix quipped.

“Yes?”

“Get any candidates today?”

“No.” She sighed. “I’d just put up the sign this morning.”

“Well, I have a wonderful idea, my sweet. Antonio can help you in the store.”

“I’ll be in town for a while. I could help out. Maybe set up that Web site for you,” Antonio said.

“That’s a great idea, Ant. Then we could expand to a catalog and have a separate department for that.” Felix beamed.

Lucy took a big, crude gulp of wine and swallowed. “I think you guys are getting ahead of yourselves.”

“No, we have faith in you,” Antonio replied.

There was that word again. Faith. Why was that the one word everyone seemed to use in a sentence when talking to her?

“Why would you want to spend your free time being cooped up in my store?”

There was a small voice inside Antonio that was daring him to admit that he wanted to be near her, to get to know her. And each time that little voice began to get louder, he would let out a little burp to muffle the sound. He was afraid that if he told her, if he sounded unsure for any reason, she would write him off again. And he didn’t want that. Working in her store was the equivalent of being in her head.