Driven to Date by Susan Hatler

the world, but if you couldn’t rely on him then what was the point?
    A door in the back of the room squeaked open, and a familiar muscular, blond, strutted into the room. He wore a long green robe as if he were going to a boxing match.
    My mouth dropped open. “What’s Troy doing here?”
    Ginger eyed me before her gaze traveled over to Sarah’s shocked expression. “You know Troy?”
    Closing my mouth, I turned toward Sarah. “So that’s why Troy always shoots out of the office right at five. He has a second job here .”
    “Our model works at your firm?” Ginger asked.
    Sarah’s eyes bulged like they were about to pop out of her head. “I’m not sure I can stay, and still go to work in the morning.”
    “What’s the big deal?” I rolled my eyes, then strode over to say hello to Troy. “Hey.”
    He gaped at me as if I had two heads. “Jill? W-What are you doing here?”
    Why’d he look so dumbfounded? “Why does it surprise you that I’m here? I have a life outside of the office, you know.”
    At least I was beginning to. . . .
    Troy’s expression relaxed, and he touched my arm. “Sorry, just a little stunned to have you in class. But it’s cool.” He waved a hand. “I’m fine with it.”
    My brows popped up. “I’m glad you’re fine with me painting.”
    His face broke into a smile. “Are you an artist? How accurate is your ability?”
    I shook my head. “I’m just here for fun. And to exercise the right side of my brain.”
    He nodded. “It’s especially freeing after being cooped up with the law all day. So much stress, you know? This is a good way for me to unwind.”
    “Art is good for the soul,” I repeated, like I believed it. It sounded like everyone had been relaxing in their down time, except me. “Up until I saw you in that robe, I thought we were drawing fruit.”
    “No fruit here.” He gave her a slow smile and ran a hand through his thick blond hair. The sleeve of his robe fell back exposing the thick muscles of his bicep and shoulder.
    “Keep in mind I’m a rookie,” I said, feeling out of sorts at not knowing the ropes. Plus, it didn’t look like he was wearing a shirt. I swallowed, hoping he was wearing shorts under there. “I’ll try my best to draw you accurately.”
    Troy winked, and his grin widened. “You’d better.”
    A feeling of terror came over me as I walked numbly back to my easel. Ginger stood with her hands behind her back, and Sarah was giving me a let’s-get-out-of-here look.
    “Welcome everyone!” Patti stood in the center of the room. “Time to get started. Everybody have their charcoal? If not, there’s a box on my desk.”
    Always an A-student, I hurried over to Patti’s desk to quickly grab my charcoal, so I wouldn’t miss any instruction. “Excuse me, Patti?”
    Patti glanced my way. “What’s up?”
    It felt like the entire class turned in my direction as well. “What do we use to pick up the sticks? Is there a holder or something, so I don’t get my fingers dirty?”
    Several chuckles rippled around the room.
    “Jill, right?” she said, reading off a piece of paper. “No holder. Just pick up the charcoal. Your fingers will get a little black, but it’s no biggie.”
    “Got it.” My chin lifted, but it felt odd trying something new. I inhaled deeply, determined to relax in my downtime—even if it killed me.
    Troy sidled up next to Patti, then dropped onto a barstool set smack in the center of the easels. He leaned back onto the stool, then lifted his eyes toward me in a way that had the hair on the back of my neck standing upright.
    Patti appeared by my side. “Relax. Do you see black on my hands?” She wiggled her fingers in the air. “If you don’t find this a good fit, you might consider our print making class.”
    I’d rather just stay in the courtroom. Trying a case in front of a jury was much less nerve-racking than this. “Thanks for the idea.”
    “Class, be sure to pay careful attention to proportions.”