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Charlie’s hand was still on her bouncing knee, and Elda covered it with her own. They connected, and Elda’s stomach did a somersault. Charlie looked at Elda intently, like she was begging her to kiss her. There was nothing Elda wanted more than to fill herself up with Charlie. Her mind raced with possibilities. In a few seconds, she saw the future and catalogued all the things that could go wrong. Was she misreading Charlie’s body language? Would this ruin their friendship?
She sat fixed to the spot, no idea what to do next. She shifted on her seat to relieve the deep ache in her groin, growing with every unsatisfying moment. Without warning, she moved from under Charlie’s touch and tipped the dregs of her glass down her throat.
“Let’s go.”
***
“Did something happen between you two last night?” Jack asked.
Elda shook her head.
“So, you’re just thinking about kissing the woman who ran you over?”
“You don’t need to call her that.” Elda covered her ear with the hand that wasn’t strappedup in a cast.
“I thought you were making serious career moves on Francis, not sexy moves on Charlie. He’s the one who thinks you’re an amazing artist.”
Elda wriggled under Jack’s stare. “That’s just work. Charlie —”
“Charlie makes your pants tingle.”
Elda wrinkled her nose. Jack repulsed her with his real talk sometimes. But he was right. Francis was perfect for her career, and Charlie was setting her body alight. She looked at Jack and couldn’t form any words. She nodded.
“Why are you fantasising about Charlie, who frankly is a bit weird for hanging around you like a stalker because she ran you over?”
“She’s not weird, Jack. She just wanted to see how I was, and then we…” Elda hadn’t really found the words to describe what their relationship was. “We became friends and like spending time together. It’s not a massive deal. I wish I hadn’t told you now.”
Jack’s shoulders relaxed, and he released his grip on the worktop. Elda turned away from him. It was easier to wrestle with tricky subjects when she didn’t have to look someone in the eye.
“Do you really like her?” His voice softened as he moved to Elda’s side and put his head against hers.
Elda had been going over the same thing in her head since finishing the trio. “Yes, I do like her,” she said out loud for the first time. “I think I’m going mad a bit. But I can’t stop thinking about her, and I make so many excuses to see her. I end up going for lunch with her, even if I’ve just eaten. And I engineer things to invite her to. And actually, she’s also told me I’m an amazing artist.”
“When?”
“At the studio the other night, when I finished the trio.”
“You finished those paintings with Charlie in the room? You don’t even let me in that bloody studio.” Jack laughed. “Oh shit, this is bad. Do you think she feels the same?”
Elda wasn’t sure which answer would be more of a mess. She had no idea what was going on in Charlie’s head. Was she just kidding herself that Charlie liked her? “Maybe. I don’t know. What if I’ve just made it all up in my head?”
Jack was still chuckling as Elda elbowed him in the ribs. He straightened. “Have you told her?”
“No way. She’ll think I’m mad.”
Jack stood at her back, and she leaned into him.
“I’m not sure she will. She might feel the same. Why else would she be hanging around? You just need to work out what you want.”
His sharp bones pinched Elda’s skin. She let it sting for a bit, just to take her mind off the whirring thoughts. This was too hard. Francis was opening up a whole world to her. He was turning into her agent, and her career was really taking off. She might not have time to devote to a new relationship.
No. She couldn’t trust herself. Falling for someone and creating a fairy tale in her head was classic Elda. Was she so desperate to love and be loved that she’d fall for her new friend? Someone who was turning into a solid gold friend. It was too much to risk, given her track record. But there was something about Charlie that she couldn’t shake off.
Chapter Nine
The last client of the day ran over, so by the time Charlie made it across to the third mill building, she was out of breath and skipping over her undone bootlace.
“Careful, you’ll go arse over tit like that,” said a slender young man hovering in the foyer. “You must be Charlie? Elda told me to look out for a tall, handsome blond. You’re obviously the bombshell in question.”
