Distracted by Madeline Sloane

since she had left D.C.
Patricia called for an update.
    “Erin? How are you and Spence getting along?”
    “Fine. Everything’s great.”
    “I’m calling because I’ve had a chance to review the
outline and chapters you’ve filed. I know you can work faster than
this. What’s the problem?”
    “No problem. Everything’s great,” she repeated.
“Spence has been painting a lot lately.”
    She neglected to say that she was his subject and
that when he wasn’t painting, they were either in bed making love
or eating. It occurred to Erin that the bulk of her time had been
spent on pleasing herself and Spence. She hadn’t even had time to
read the paperbacks she’d brought along.
    “Well, you’ve got him on a schedule, at least, but
the quality is not there. These chapters are too thin and they’re
primarily technique. We need more input from the artist’s point of
view. Do a little psycho analyzing, for God’s sake. That was your
minor in college, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes, that’s right. Will do. Thanks for calling.
Bye.”
    Erin hung up quickly, hoping that Patricia had been
stalled.
    Spence, who was painting her toenails for his next
pin-up poster, asked, “Who was that?”
    “Patricia McDowell. She wanted to know how we’re
doing on the book. I lied, of course.”
    He lifted her foot, blew gently on the red polish and
smiled wickedly.
    “Spence,” she said with a sigh. “This is a bit silly,
don’t you think? I’m not your doll baby.”
    “No, you’re my pin-up girl. Believe me, there’s a
difference.”
    “Haven’t I done everything you’ve asked?”
    “Haven’t I done everything you’ve asked?” he
echoed.
    “Mostly, but it’s time to stop playing around.”
    “But I like to play with you.”
    “Spence. You’re a grown man, and men don’t act this
way. Quit tickling my feet.”
    He grinned lecherously. “I know men don’t act this
way. They just wish they could.”
    “We need to buckle down and work,” she said frowning.
“Maybe this house and all of your toys are too much of a
distraction. How would you like to come home with me?”
    “You mean D.C.?”
    Erin quickly shook her head. No, the last thing she
wanted was for Spence and Aidan to meet. Aidan. Hmmm, she thought,
she hadn’t thought of him in a couple of months.
    “No, I mean Pennsylvania. Do you remember I told you
about my family’s cabin at the lake? It’s far from everything. We
could focus on the book there.”
    Spence was doubtful.
    “I really like it here, though. I’ve got all these
sketches going. I think it’s a great series. Don’t you enjoy
working with me?”
    “I do; I love it. But Patricia didn’t hire me to wear
sexy underwear and pose for you. I really appreciate the fact that
you like my body, but I have a mind, also.”
    Spence put down the nail polish brush and stared at
her in mock horror. She was reclining on the couch, a white fur
cape hanging from a shoulder. Faux diamond pendants dangled from
her ears. Her lips were vivid red, her eyes ringed with black fake
lashes. She wore a black corset that pushed her large breasts out
like torpedoes. The corset ended above her navel. A pair of black,
lacy panties completed today’s ensemble.
    “Baby, how could you ask me to give up all of this?”
he asked in anguish.
    “I think you’re over reacting. I think I look
slutty.”
    “You’re wrong. You’re a goddess.” He kissed her
cheek, careful not to smudge her red, glistening lips and whispered
against her ear. “I’ve got to sketch you now, while I can still
stand up.”
    Once again, Erin’s resolution to buckle down and
finish the project dissolved.
     
     

Chapter Eleven
     
    Erin texted her sister, saying she would be there
soon. She recalled the phone conversation and how she had hedged,
explaining only that she was bringing a client to work at the cabin
for a few days.
    After twelve hours on the road, the packed SUV
cruised down a long, dusty driveway. It stopped in front of a