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“Tell me about it,” she suggested.
Stig shook his head. “Wait and see.”
“You can see it next week,” Althea said, passing her the potatoes. “I can pick it up on Wednesday unless you want to try it on there for alterations?”
“I’ll pick it up.” She could deal with the alterations herself if Stig had picked something totally outrageous.
“I don’t see you as a cupcake,” Stig told her.
Well, thank God for that. But Holly didn’t have time to worry about it. Over dinner Althea wanted to talk about the wedding reception, and after, when Stig took the dog for a walk, Althea pressed her for more details about Lukas’s gallery—and Lukas.
“I didn’t think the gallery was open yet, or we’d have gone,” she said. “I thought the article said something about the first week in July.”
“Yes. Lukas said that, too,” Holly agreed. “But it’s sort of a gradual process, apparently. Several of the artists are already there, and a lot of their work is already on display. But the hours are still limited.”
“But he gave you a tour!” Holly could see the wheels turning in Althea’s head.
“He wanted to show it off,” Holly said dampeningly. “And it gets him away from going over the finalists for the MacClintock grant, which drives him nuts.” He’d told her that.
“I can’t see Lukas sitting still for long,” Althea agreed.
“He’s doing a lot of the actual carpentry on the apartments.” For all that he disparaged his contribution, Holly understood that he’d done a lot of the finish work as well as what he’d described as “grunt stuff.”
“I’ll bet he looks good in a tool belt.”
Holly was quite sure he did, too, and felt her face warm at the thought. Determinedly ignoring it, she talked about the gallery opening instead.
“He’s waiting on the gallery manager,” she said. “She’s coming from Sydney next week. I gather she’s very good at this sort of thing. Can do it with one hand tied behind her back—or from the other side of the world. But he wants her here before they officially open. So that’s why they’re waiting for the grand opening.”
“You’re going, of course,” Althea said as she loaded the dishwasher. It wasn’t a question.
“I might be back out at my mother’s by then.”
Althea looked up, startled. “At your mother’s? Why?”
“I’m hoping the condo sells. If it does...I have to go somewhere.” She took a swallow of the wine Stig had poured for her before they cleared the table. “I’m just doing wishful thinking here.”
“You won’t have to move in three weeks,” Althea protested. “You haven’t even sold it yet, have you?”
“No.” She swirled the wine in her glass, staring at it moodily. “I’m just hoping I will. I don’t want to have to deal with it long distance—particularly not ‘out of the country’ long distance. I should have put it on the market before now.” Her brother, Greg, had told her at Christmastime to put it on the market then. But Holly hadn’t been ready then. She’d only just made the decision to go. “I am going to have to get a storage locker somewhere soon anyway.”
Althea finished putting the last dishes in, then turned the dishwasher on. Drying her hands, she turned to Holly. “It still seems insane to me. Giving up everything. Going halfway round the world.”
It wasn’t the first time they’d had this chat. Holly said, “I’m sure.”
And not just for all the reasons she’d had before.
Now she also needed to put a world between herself and Lukas Antonides.
She might not know what she wanted out of the rest of her life, but it was perfectly clear what Lukas wanted—a roll in the hay or the urban equivalent thereof.
His “I want to kiss you” in that sexy sandpaper voice had sent shivers right down from her neck to her toes. Still did.
He hadn’t done it, but he hadn’t been joking. And if he had kissed her, he wouldn’t have stopped there. When Lukas wanted something, he was single-minded. If he decided he wanted Holly, he would do his damnedest to get her into bed.
But scariest of all was Holly’s fear that she might not stop him.
* * *
He waited for the other shoe to drop.
Ever since he’d helped Holly into the cab, Lukas had expected a phone call saying that something had come up, that she wouldn’t be able to have dinner with him on Saturday night after all.
