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“I don’t know about that.” Caitlyn leaned back against the car and smoothed her hand over side of the hood. “I’ve seen plenty of pictures of fairly famous and sinfully rich actors who dress like they just rolled out of a dumpster.”
“It’s not my brand, Cait.” Emrys gestured one hand in the air. “I’m ‘quality.’”
“I don’t think that’s what your brand speaks to.” Caitlyn wrinkled her nose in amusement and shook her head. “I think it’s ‘naked.’”
Emrys’s brow furrowed in anger, just for a moment, but then he laughed low and deep in his throat.
“Maybe it is.” He came to her side and put his hand beside hers on the car. “You like this car, do you?”
“I’m just attracted to shiny pieces of equipment. You should see me in an Apple store.”
“Is that so? I wondered if you continued on with your plan.”
Caitlyn nodded and shrugged. “That’s me. Freelance web designer. I do the websites for a lot of small businesses.”
“And that’s enough to pay your bills?”
“More or less. There are a lot of start-up businesses right now, and while they aren’t the big accounts, I can set something usable up for them. It’s cheaper in the long run to pay me up front to design your site and take care of your branding and PR needs than to go through one of the sites that act as a middleman.”
“Then I suppose you got your money’s worth from your college education.”
“I make a living, and it’s kind of fun, and I get to have a life. That’s all I’m asking out of a career. I’d like to be able to continue to eat and pay rent and still be able to travel at least once a year.”
Emrys’s hand circled around her back. She let it and looked up into his eyes.
“It seems like you and I are both more practical than we once were,” he said, almost wistfully.
“I don’t see that as a bad thing.” Caitlyn avoided his gaze. She’d let him go this far. She didn’t need to start getting mushy and romantic over their past. “It’s good to have both of your feet on the ground.”
“That’s not always true,” Emrys objected.
“When?” Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Tell me when exactly it’s good to not have your feet on the ground?”
Emrys leaned forward and turned her face towards his with two fingers. “When you’re dancing.”
Caitlyn lifted her chin defiantly. “I don’t dance. I’ll fall.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Take it as what it is. I have two left feet. I can barely walk. I think it’s actually illegal for me to dance in 48 states.”
“Then maybe I’ll have to take you out of the country again to get you to dance.”
“I think I’ve done my travelling for the year.” Caitlyn looked away, smiling coyly at the bright skyline.
“Where have you been?” Emrys moved closer.
“Here, though it’s mostly been a working vacation so far. I live in Cincinnati, but Melinda lives here, so that was an easy trip to plan. Plus, I took a few weeks during the summer. Did a jazz crawl through Austin, then Houston, and finished up by meeting a few friends in Mexico.”
“I see.”
Caitlyn turned to him and looked him over. “What? Is your brand so straight-laced now that you can’t do jazz or drink tequila from the bottle?”
“One of those things would end with an unflattering picture in the tabloids, which I do try to avoid.” Emrys draped his arm around Caitlyn’s shoulders. “But maybe you could inform me better on where to find some decent jazz.”
Though Caitlyn was no expert—she’d only done the jazz crawl because it was featured as something to experience in the city she was traveling to—Melinda had mentioned a few places where she and Jaina tended to go on the weekends, so she pulled each up on her phone to see who would be playing, and located an address for Emrys to put into his GPS. It wasn’t a quick drive. Friday night in the city, traffic was madness.
But Emrys brought up that time that Caitlyn had practically impaled herself on one of the stone posts that lined the sidewalks in busy traffic areas of Paris. That led to the story about the man who had tried to grab Emrys’s messenger bag
