Unfinished Muse (18 page)

Rick shook his head. “Not exactly, no.” He
leaned into the cushioned seat. “This is what I wanted to explain
to you about my job. I am whatever I need to be for the dream role
I’m cast in for the night.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t have a wardrobe
department.”

“No. Not exactly. More like a graphic arts
department.” He took a long gulp of coffee. “And a spa
treatment.”

I smirked. “What?”

“It’s kind of a long process. First, we
receive the dream assignments from various departments. Sometimes
they come from Fate, sometimes a client needs a shaking up from the
Furies, and sometimes the dreams are assigned internally. They come
from all over, really. We script it, cast it, then a designer pulls
a character profile from the database and tweaks it or creates a
new one altogether. The result is uploaded to a shower bomb.”

I held my hand up. “Whoa. A shower
bomb?”

He chuckled. “Not a bomb bomb. A shower
bomb. Like a bath bomb, but for showers. The water hits it and the
bomb dissolves, releasing the magical essence of the character
rather than the smelly stuff in a regular shower bomb.”

My eyes may have glazed over for a second as
I imagined him in the shower naked every day in this very building.
I shook myself and tried not to blush. “So, then what? You
transform in the shower and walk out in a wet costume?”

“Well, the costume is dry, but yeah.” He
gave me a sheepish look. “So, that’s why I didn’t see you every day
this week. Sometimes I don’t look very much like myself.”

I frowned. “How
much
not like
yourself?”

“On Tuesday, I was covered in green fur, and
Wednesday I kind of looked like a giant tuna with tentacles.” His
expression was serious, though his words sounded like a joke.

I blinked. “Not uh.”

“Ya huh. And I can’t wash it off, so I’m
stuck here until it wears off. It’s one thing to walk around in a
black hat and chaps, it’s another to scare people and put them off
their breakfast.” He paused. “Or, you know, chase you away before
I’d even had a chance to take you out.”

I gripped my cup in both hands and smiled.
“I guess your plan worked then. So where are we going?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Well, we
can go through your portal or mine. I’m afraid mine’s not exactly
exotic, but if you’d like to see the capitol of Kansas, we can go
through mine.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. “You live in
Topeka?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Like I said, not really
exciting.”

I grinned over the lid of my cup. “Oh, I
don’t know. Some of the best people live there. Me, for
example.”

He sat up straighter. “No!”

“Yes!”

“Well, then. I guess we’re going through the
Topeka portal. How do you feel about picnics?”

~*~

Apparently, Rick had been planning to talk me into a
picnic all along. The fact that we belonged to the same portal made
it easier on him, since he had everything we needed already in the
trunk of his car.

We left my car parked up the street—I didn’t
want the fake homeless dude to report my hooky-playing ways if
that’s what his job was—and drove out to Perry Lake for the
day.

My insides were at war with each other
throughout the day. Here I was with this gorgeous, thoughtful guy,
and I was having trouble relaxing with him. Just as he’d somehow
known how much I loved cinnamon lattes, the contents of his picnic
basket were strangely compatible with my likes and tastes.

The sandwiches were Swiss and ham on buttery
croissants with mayo and a dab of mustard. Seriously, he’d nailed
it, even down to the condiments. Nectarines, sea salt bagel chips,
and white cupcakes with vanilla frosting. He’d also brought
ice-cold bottles of water for after we drank the cans of strawberry
soda he’d brought.

It was a little scary. My mother could have
packed me that lunch.

I tried to tell myself I was holding back
because I’d only broken up with Freddy a couple of weeks ago. It
was probably too soon to start something new. But it was more than
that.

We sat on a blanket together, listening to
the waves lap against the rocks. My stomach was full of some of my
favorite things to eat, the sun warmed my back, and a gorgeous guy
sat next to me.

He sat so close, the hairs on our arms
brushed. I shivered.

“Are you cold?” He rubbed the palm of his
hand over my back. “I have another blanket in the car.”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.” I squinted up
at the sky. “I should probably be getting back, though.” I reached
for my sandals and slipped them on.

“Oh.” The disappointment in his voice was
thick. “Alright.” He reached for the empty water bottles and placed
them in the carrier he’d brought.

“I’m sorry.” I really was. I was torn
between wanting to jump on him and wanting to back away. Backing
away was usually my go-to position whenever I was in doubt. I’d
have to work on that. “It’s kind of a drive back, and then I have
to get my own car. I’ve really had a good time, though.”

He stood and helped me to my feet, then bent
to grab the blanket. “I’m glad. I had fun, too.” His tone was a
little stiff.

I touched his sleeve. “Really. It was
perfect.”

His smile was slow, but it reached his eyes,
and his shoulders relaxed. “Maybe we can do it again sometime?” He
didn’t look at me as he folded the blanket.

I couldn’t believe a guy like this could be
so unsure of himself. “Absolutely. We’ll do it on a day when I’m
not supposed to be at work. I can relax better that way.”

He frowned and faced me. “I’m sorry. I
shouldn’t have asked you to do this on your first week. Next time,
we’ll do it legally. No shenanigans.”

I looped my arm through his as we walked
back to the car. “Well, don’t get rid of
all
the
shenanigans. There can be
some
shenanigans.”

He held up two fingers and pinched them
close together without touching. “A
little
shenanigans,
then.”

I laughed. “It’s a deal.”

~*~

I was still a little freaked out by the time we got
to my car, although I was pretty sure my freaked-outedness was
totally due to Wynter-itis—the inability to commit to anyone or
anything. Freddy had been too recent a reminder of my inability to
get out of my own way.

Hopefully, Rick would be patient with me. I
wasn’t ready for Mr. Perfect to swoop in out of nowhere. I was a
work in progress and he wasn’t. Slight razor burn and a tiny
eyebrow scar were not enough to bring him down to my level of
screwed up.

I nearly explained that to him when I gave
him the cheek slide. He’d tried to kiss me goodbye, and I sort of
panicked again. The hurt in his eyes wasn’t lost on me. But I
didn’t have the words to explain it.

All the way home in my car, I mentally and
verbally beat myself up. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. He’s awesome.
He’s gorgeous. He anticipates your needs.” I pulled into my parking
space and glared at myself in the rearview mirror. “Get. A.
Grip.”

When I burst through the door, I slammed it
behind myself, and threw my purse on the counter.

Phyllis sounded startled. “Wynter? What on
Earth is wrong, sweetheart? You nearly scared the leaves off me.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. Several dry leaves had fluttered into the
sink below the windowsill.

“I’m sorry.” I gathered the leaves and
tossed them in the trash, then poked a finger at her dirt. “Are you
thirsty? You’re a little dry.”

“I could use a drink. Thank you. But first
tell me what happened.”

I ran the faucet and adjusted it until it
was the lukewarm temperature Phyllis preferred. “I’m an idiot. I’m
broken. You can’t fix me.”

“Oh, honey. It can’t be that bad. Did
something happen at work?”

I shook my head and trickled water into her
dirt. “I didn’t go to work. I went on a picnic with a gorgeous guy.
Then I freaked out and made him take me home because he’s too
perfect and I’m not.” I shut off the water and burst into tears,
still holding the potted plant.

“Oh, Wynter, no. Don’t be silly.” A leafy
branch stroked the back of my hand. “Nobody’s perfect. Any man
would be lucky to spend time with you.”

Her words and tone, combined with the
surprisingly soft leaves stroking my hand calmed me. I wiped away
my tears. “You think so?”

She patted my hand. “I know so.” The
soothing branch pulled back and whacked me where it had been
petting me a second before.

“Ouch!”

“I cannot believe you spent the day with a
boy instead of going to work. Are you trying to end up in the
Underworld?”

I set her in the sink to drain, then rubbed
the welt rising on my skin. “I’ve got it under control. It’s only
the first week, and two of my clients are well on their way.”

If she’d had eyes, I wouldn’t have been able
to meet them. As it was, I looked away. She was sure to read the
guilt on my face. I felt terrible enough already.

She tutted and shook her leaves. “Two. Two
are on their way.” One of her branches wagged in the direction of
the window. “And what about poor Mark out there? He’s running out
of time. So what if you figured out he’s trying to design a
playground? Knowing what it’s supposed to be isn’t even halfway
there. The poor boy needs an idea, Wynter.”

I was getting lectured by a houseplant. And
I was dangerously close to bursting into tears again because she
was absolutely right. “I tried. He won’t listen to me.”

Her voice grew quiet. “Then you must make
him listen. Not because it’s your job and you don’t want to fail.
You must do it because you are a Muse, and he needs you. Without
you,
he
will fail.”

Chapter 15

Phyllis was right, of course. I’d lost sight of the
purpose to all this. It wasn’t about whether I failed or not. This
was about getting Alex to the competition so he’d feel more in
control of his life and less under his mother’s thumb. It was about
Missy giving her parents the perfect gift for their fiftieth
anniversary.

And it was about Mark creating something
truly special for some really lucky kid.

I washed the tears from my face and fixed my
hair. It was time to get serious. Mark was getting my help in
whatever capacity he needed it.

The ridiculous note from Mrs. Terwilliger
was still in the trash. I rescued it and flicked half a grape off
the edge.

“Wynter, what are you doing?” Phyllis sat
draining in the sink, straining her branches to reach over the edge
as if she couldn’t quite see what I had.

I smoothed the page against the counter.
“I’m going to see Mark about this stupid note.”

“You can’t go talk to him in person. Are you
crazy? Where’s your belt?”

I waved a dismissive hand in her direction.
“It’s in the other room. So far, it hasn’t done me a hell of a lot
of good.”

“This can’t turn out well. Isn’t there a
rule against it? What will your boss say?”

My hand was on the doorknob, and I stopped.
“My boss hasn’t had anything important to say to me all week. I’m
doing this my way, now.” I walked outside and shut the door before
Phyllis could say anything else.

I stood in front of Mark’s apartment and ran
my sweaty palms over my dress. The memo in my hand slipped and
dropped to the ground. I bent to pick it up, and when I stood
straight again, Mark stood in front of me in his doorway.

“Hi.” His eyes flicked to the bright note in
my hand. “Are you here to complain about me, too? Don’t worry. I’m
done trying to build anything.”

“No!” I blurted the single word a little too
loudly. I made an effort to take it down a notch. “No. I don’t want
to complain. Well, I mean, I do. But not about you.” I held up the
note. “What the hell is her problem?”

He relaxed and smiled. “I don’t know. Maybe
she stole some of my spray paint and was huffing it.”

I smirked. “That might actually improve her
personality.”

“That it might.” He laughed and stuck his
hand out. “I don’t think we’ve really met. I’m Mark.”

My eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, thank
goodness. I thought we had met and I felt terrible that I’d
forgotten your name. I’m Wynter.” I took his offered hand, and he
gave mine a warm squeeze rather than a shake.

“Would you…” He rubbed the back of his neck,
as if he were nervous. “Would you like to come in for a drink or
something?”

“I would love to.” I wadded up Terwilliger’s
note and tossed it over my shoulder. “Oops. Don’t you hate when
people leave their stuff in public areas?”

He smiled and stepped aside to let me in. “I
have no idea why we haven’t been friends this whole time.”

I walked past him, trying not to let him see
my smile falter. I knew why we hadn’t been friends before. I didn’t
have friends. I always thought friends were too much work.

Mark pulled a couple of beers out of the
fridge, opened one and handed it to me.

I took a sip. “I’ve seen you out there
building stuff. What is it you’re working on?” I tried to sound
casual, like it didn’t matter to me. Like my entire world wasn’t
focused on it right at that moment. Like my future didn’t depend on
it.

He sighed and gestured toward the living
room with his bottle. “I’ve been commissioned to build some pieces
for a little girl’s fifth birthday.”

“That sounds fun.” I followed him into the
living room and sat in a squeaky leather chair.

“Fun. Sure. I’m running out of time, and I
haven’t come up with a theme yet.” He sighed and took a sip. “Her
name is Carry. She’s got leukemia. I want to make it perfect for
her.”

I frowned. No wonder he was so stressed out.
“What does she like? It’s for her backyard, right?”

He froze with his bottle halfway to his
mouth. “How did you know that?”

Shit. “I guessed. It looked like you were
building a sandbox earlier in the week.”