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Each morning of the weeks to follow would be a common routine. I would kiss Drake goodbye in the early morning, get up leisurely and either work on my paintings in my studio or attend the drawing class at The Institute. Drake would work all day and into the evening, missing supper as usual, but soon, before I knew it, we'd be moving back to Manhattan and life would become a whole lot slower. Once back in Manhattan, Drake would still teach, perform surgery and occasionally play in his band, and of course there was the foundation and the business. Still, he wouldn't take on a full caseload and wouldn't be working so late every night or so frequently on the weekend. His call schedule would be much better – one in six weekends rather than one in three.
Besides, I'd be busy finishing my MA and working on my art.
I was more hopeful now than I had been that we'd make it work.
The first day back in class, I was worried about how things would be with Sefton, after the disastrous time on safari. I went to class with a sense of foreboding, but was determined not to let him bother me. Class went on as usual, with the first half hour devoted to quick studies of a middle-aged African woman with salt and pepper hair and ample if sagging curves. She had the most placid expression on her face, as if posing naked in front of a dozen students was the most natural thing in the world.
Sefton's students came in and took their places after the break, and I waited to see what kind of reception I’d get, if Sefton would apologize for his drunken pass, or act as if nothing had happened.
By the end of the class, after he'd ignored me completely except to compliment my final study of the model, I knew which approach he'd taken and I was relieved.
He acted as if nothing had happened. It meant I could keep taking the studio class, but I wouldn't take the Master Class just to be on the safe side. When class was over, I spoke to Talia to let her know I couldn't take the Master Class after all. I didn't say why. She seemed genuinely upset and told me that if I changed my mind, there would be a spot for me.
I felt immensely pleased that she was so willing to accommodate me, and as I walked down the hallway to the elevator, I thought I'd escaped Sefton. Before I could leave the building, he caught up with me in the empty hallway. When I reached the elevator, and stepped inside, he stepped in behind me.
"So, Ms. McDermott," he said, standing much too close to me. "Have you recovered after the weekend? Claire seemed rather upset to find us together in such a compromising situation."
"There was nothing compromising about it. You were drunk and you made an inappropriate pass at a woman engaged to be married. That's all. And yes, I did recover and everything's fine with me and Drake, if that's what you wanted to know."
"Pity," he said and leaned closer to me, his arm resting on the wall of the elevator. He bent down and touched a wisp of hair that had fallen out of my ponytail. The elevator came to the main floor and the doors started to open, but Sefton was blocking my exit. "Remember what I said. If that boyfriend of yours ever leaves you wanting more, I'm in the wings, waiting. I could teach you so much…"
"Please let me by,"
I said, trying to force my way off the elevator.
The next thing I knew, Drake was in the elevator, knocking Sefton against the far wall. I gasped, shocked by the sudden movement of the two men as they struggled. Finally, they stopped. Drake had Sefton pinned against the elevator wall, his forearm pressed against Sefton's throat, one of his fists poised in front of Sefton's face.
"You almost broke my nose," Sefton said, his voice horrified. He felt his nose with a free hand. Blood smeared his fingers.
"You'll be waiting nowhere near Kate, if you know what’s good for you, or you'll have more than a broken nose," Drake said, his voice low and menacing.
"Is that a threat?" Sefton said, his voice strained. His face was pale, his teeth gritted.
"It's a promise. You leave Kate alone or Kate and I will be making a trip to the police station to talk about what happened during the safari."
Then Drake stepped back and adjusted his shirt, the sleeves of which had pulled back in the struggle. He turned to me, one arm slipping around my shoulders, pulling me against him and out of the elevator. We walked down the hallway, my heart pounding.
"Drake…"
"Let's get out of here," he said, kissing the top of my head. "No arguing. I had the element of surprise going for me, and if I almost broke his nose, it was totally by accident. He's a big fucker and I don't know if I could beat him if he wants to fight."
We picked up the pace, Sefton walking behind us, his footsteps audible in the silence of the hallway.
"I could have you charged with assault for that," he called after us.
"Kate could have you charged with assault," Drake said.
Sefton said nothing in reply.
Relief and amusement bubbled up inside of me that Drake had bloodied Sefton's nose. Drake and I broke into a run after he pulled me through the doors and out to the street where the black Mercedes sat in wait. I laughed so hard as we tumbled into the car.
"That was awfully Bruce Willis of you," I said, my knees still shaking from the adrenaline that coursed through me.
Drake started the engine. "Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!" he said, grinning widely as he and squealed the tires and sped off.
I glanced back to see Sefton standing at the entry to the Institute, watching us, his fists clenched.
The next day, I arrived home in the afternoon after a trip to the mall for groceries to find that our answering machine was blinking to indicate we had a message. I frowned and checked my cell, but the battery had died sometime during the morning. I plugged it in to charge it and listened to the message on the answering machine.
