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“Would kind of be overkill to have anything else in there, don’t you think?”
Still she looked around before she turned on the faucet. It was probably one of the faster showers she’d ever taken, quickly washing off the sand and salt, shampooing her short hair and rinsing off.
She dried herself and dressed, feeling better as if wearing armor in the old-lady bra and panties that came up to her waist could protect her from her emotions. She couldn’t help but think about Landry Jones. Just about the time she thought she had him figured out, he surprised her.
She gazed at her image in the mirror, dressed in the capris and tea-length sleeved blouse. She looked like the virgin she was, she thought with a self-deprecating smile.
As she stepped out of the bathroom, she found Landry standing by her bed holding a framed photograph. “These your parents?”
It was all she could do not to stomp over to him and snatch it from him. He already knew too much about her. “Yes.”
“You grew up on a farm?” He seemed interested. Then she remembered that he was probably just wondering if she’d shipped some of her paintings home.
She walked over and took the photograph from him, unable to resist tracing her fingers over her father’s face before setting it back down, then changing her mind and sticking it faceup in the top drawer.
“The paintings aren’t in South Dakota,” she snapped, angry with him for even pretending to care about her or her family.
“I wasn’t—” He shook his head. “Never mind.” He glanced around the apartment. “The painting isn’t here.”
She gave him a duh look. “I believe I already told you that.”
He nodded. “Missouri, remember?”
She remembered.
“I grew up on a farm, too. Dirt-poor.”
She felt her expression soften. “Me, too.”
He nodded and chewed at his cheek. “It was tough. I never wanted to be rich but I knew I had to do better than that.”
“I know what you mean.”
“You’re making it as an artist. That’s really something,” he said with what almost sounded like admiration in his voice.
“Well, I was starting to.”
He winced. “Sorry, but once this is over, you can get another studio, have a bunch more shows. It will be great.” He actually sounded like he believed that.
“Thanks. What about you?”
Landry sighed. “I really don’t know. I can’t see myself going back to it. Undercover work. I guess I didn’t realize how much I was starting to really fit into the role of bad guy. Maybe that’s what happened to Zeke. He got so used to playing the part, it became who he was.” Landry shrugged. “What happened with him changed things for me.”
She could see that. She just wasn’t sure in what way. They both started at the knock on the apartment door, then Odell’s voice. “Willie?”
“Willie?” Landry whispered.
“Willie?” Odell called again.
“Go ahead, answer him,” Landry whispered.
“Just a minute,” she called.
Landry smiled. “He’s going to think we’re in bed.”
She felt her face heat as she pushed past him and went to the door. She’d rather take her chances with Odell than Landry anyday, she told herself.
“Hey,” she said, smiling as she opened the door.
