call you?”
She nodded, her eyes still locked with his. “I’d like that.”
With the greatest reluctance, Brian opened the car door and climbed out.
“Drive safe.”
Joanna smiled and nodded. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
Brian watched her drive off, waiting until her tail lights disappeared before going inside.
For the rest of the evening he went through the normal motions of his solitary life, realizing that up until that night at the Metropolis club, that life had been utterly meaningless.
10
BY 9:45 THE TRAFFIC in the Westbound lanes of the Mass Pike had lightened, the rush hour long over, and Joanna found herself longing for the bumper-to-bumper snarl to which she’d become accustomed. At least it would give her more time to think. The problem was she didn’t know what to think. She kept fiddling with the radio and the cassette player, trying to find something—anything to keep her mind from dwelling on Brian; but no matter what station she tuned in or which album she put on, her thoughts kept returning to him.
In Heaven’s name, what had she done?
I let him kiss me. What was I thinking?
And that was just it, she wasn’t thinking, at least not with her head. The thing of it was, she’d wanted him to kiss her, had wanted it from the moment she had looked into his eyes at Nick’s party. The real irony was that she hadn’t even intended to go to the party in the first place. Instead, she’d planned to spend the evening working in her studio. But it was during her afternoon meditation that something changed her mind. It was no magical revelation, no mysterious flash of insight, just a quiet certainty that she must be there.
It all came clear when Brian had asked her to dance. And it wasn’t that he was particularly handsome, either, not like Erik, whose dark male-model looks had turned her head so completely as a twenty-year-old. But there was something about him, something boyish and innocent, yet strong and assured. On the other hand, he wasn’t ugly, either. She loved the way his lips curled sideways into that sweet smile, his wavy blonde hair, the way it curled around the backs of his ears, the slight dimple in his strong chin. But it was those eyes of his that had made her heart stutter in her chest. So steady, so blue and so...honest.
And he was funny, too.
Joanna giggled, recalling his leather jacket tango once again.
Yes, she’d wanted him to kiss her more than anything, had been afraid he would be too shy to do so. Yet, when he had, it overwhelmed her senses in ways that still defied description. She trembled at the memory, her fingers touching her lips, as if to recapture the feel of him.
What really thrilled and scared her all at once, however, were the acuity of his mind and the depth of his soul, his knowing what it truly meant to be an artist. Poor Erik, so consumed by the passions of his business and all that went with it, so assured in his dealings with Boston’s powerbrokers, had no idea as to what it really meant to create something of beauty from the core of one’s being. It really was like giving birth, your creations carrying a small part of yourself out into the world. Erik’s buildings, so startling in their construction, so commanding in their presence, were merely testaments to his acumen, a reflection of his ability to hire the right people for the right jobs. He had no understanding of the creative mind.
Yet, she still loved him...didn’t she?
She hadn’t told Brian the whole story of how she and Erik had met. It was true she’d been asked to show him and his architects around, and it was equally true that he’d asked her out the next day, but only after pulling strings with the school to find out her number.
She’d been both annoyed and flattered that he’d gone to such lengths, yet she’d rebuffed him. But he persisted. Eventually, her resistance had broken down and she’d consented to a date. In spite of her tears and her dilemma, Joanna
She nodded, her eyes still locked with his. “I’d like that.”
With the greatest reluctance, Brian opened the car door and climbed out.
“Drive safe.”
Joanna smiled and nodded. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
Brian watched her drive off, waiting until her tail lights disappeared before going inside.
For the rest of the evening he went through the normal motions of his solitary life, realizing that up until that night at the Metropolis club, that life had been utterly meaningless.
10
BY 9:45 THE TRAFFIC in the Westbound lanes of the Mass Pike had lightened, the rush hour long over, and Joanna found herself longing for the bumper-to-bumper snarl to which she’d become accustomed. At least it would give her more time to think. The problem was she didn’t know what to think. She kept fiddling with the radio and the cassette player, trying to find something—anything to keep her mind from dwelling on Brian; but no matter what station she tuned in or which album she put on, her thoughts kept returning to him.
In Heaven’s name, what had she done?
I let him kiss me. What was I thinking?
And that was just it, she wasn’t thinking, at least not with her head. The thing of it was, she’d wanted him to kiss her, had wanted it from the moment she had looked into his eyes at Nick’s party. The real irony was that she hadn’t even intended to go to the party in the first place. Instead, she’d planned to spend the evening working in her studio. But it was during her afternoon meditation that something changed her mind. It was no magical revelation, no mysterious flash of insight, just a quiet certainty that she must be there.
It all came clear when Brian had asked her to dance. And it wasn’t that he was particularly handsome, either, not like Erik, whose dark male-model looks had turned her head so completely as a twenty-year-old. But there was something about him, something boyish and innocent, yet strong and assured. On the other hand, he wasn’t ugly, either. She loved the way his lips curled sideways into that sweet smile, his wavy blonde hair, the way it curled around the backs of his ears, the slight dimple in his strong chin. But it was those eyes of his that had made her heart stutter in her chest. So steady, so blue and so...honest.
And he was funny, too.
Joanna giggled, recalling his leather jacket tango once again.
Yes, she’d wanted him to kiss her more than anything, had been afraid he would be too shy to do so. Yet, when he had, it overwhelmed her senses in ways that still defied description. She trembled at the memory, her fingers touching her lips, as if to recapture the feel of him.
What really thrilled and scared her all at once, however, were the acuity of his mind and the depth of his soul, his knowing what it truly meant to be an artist. Poor Erik, so consumed by the passions of his business and all that went with it, so assured in his dealings with Boston’s powerbrokers, had no idea as to what it really meant to create something of beauty from the core of one’s being. It really was like giving birth, your creations carrying a small part of yourself out into the world. Erik’s buildings, so startling in their construction, so commanding in their presence, were merely testaments to his acumen, a reflection of his ability to hire the right people for the right jobs. He had no understanding of the creative mind.
Yet, she still loved him...didn’t she?
She hadn’t told Brian the whole story of how she and Erik had met. It was true she’d been asked to show him and his architects around, and it was equally true that he’d asked her out the next day, but only after pulling strings with the school to find out her number.
She’d been both annoyed and flattered that he’d gone to such lengths, yet she’d rebuffed him. But he persisted. Eventually, her resistance had broken down and she’d consented to a date. In spite of her tears and her dilemma, Joanna
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