"You always say that when you sketch me."
"No, you're really not relaxed." Marianne stuck the pencil in her hair.
It was a mass of curls now that just skimmed her shoulders. She sat
back to drum her fingers on the pad and study Emma. "Is it being here,
in New York?"
"I don't know. Maybe." But she'd been tense the last couple of days in
London as well, unable to shake the feeling she was being watched,
followed. Stalked.
Stupid. She took three deliberate breaths. In all likelihood the
tension stemmed from finally acknowledging her guilt and shame, and
her anger, which revolved around Darren and Drew. And yet, once she
had, she felt relief
"You want to quit?" Even as she asked, Marianne took out the pencil and
began to sketch again. She'd always wanted to capture that quiet,
haunted look in Emma's eyes. "We could run uptown, go to Bloomies, or
go to Elizabeth Arden's for the works. I haven't had a facial in
weeks."
"I've been meaning to mention how haggard you look." She smiled so that
the dimple winked at the corner of her mouth. "What is it, vitamins,
macrobiotics, sex? You look wonderful."
"I think it might be love."
"The dentist?"
"Who? Oh, no. Talk of root canals destroyed our relationship. His
name's Ross. I met him about six months ago."
"Six months ago." Emma arched a brow. "And you never mentioned him."
"I thought I might jinx it." With a shrug, Marianne turned the pad and
started a new sketch. "Shift a little, would you? Turn your head.
Yeah."
"Serious." Emma glanced out the window. Her stomach did a little loop
so that she had to inhale slowly. People were hurrying along below,
chased by a chill wind that threatened rain or sleet. There was a man
standing in the doorway of the deli, smoking. She would have sworn he
looked right at her. "What?" she said when she heard Marianne's voice.
"I said it could be. I'd like it to be. The problem is, he's a
senator."
"As in U.S.?"
"The gentleman from Virginia. Can you see me as one of those classy
Washington wives?"
"Yes," Emma said and smiled. "I can."
"Teas and protocol." Marianne wrinkled her nose. "I can't imagine
actually having to sit through a speech on the defense budget. What are
you staring at?"
"Oh. Nothing." With a quick shake of her head, Emma shifted her gaze.
"There's just a man standing down on the street."
"Imagine that. In downtown New York. You're tensing up again."
"Sorry." Deliberately she looked away and tried to relax. "Paranoia,"
she said, hoping for a light touch. "So, do I -get to meet the
politician?"
"He's in D.C." In two strokes Marianne penciled in Emma's brow.
"If you weren't in such a hurry to get back to L.A., you could go down