Envy(52)
“Smells good, doesn’t it?”
“Sounds wonderful, too.”
“Um-huh.”
The rain didn’t cool the air much, but it had a definite effect on the atmosphere. It became closer, denser. He was aware of it. And so was Maris. She probably couldn’t characterize this sudden change any better than he could, but it was distinctly felt.
Her eyes moved away from watching the rain through the open door and found his. They stared at each other through the deepening gloom. Oddly, it wasn’t an uncomfortable exchange. If he’d been forced to use an applicable adverb to describe the way in which they were looking at one another, he would choose “expectantly,” a modifier that combined curiosity with caution, wonderment with undertones of wariness.
He felt her gaze like a tug on his chest drawing him closer, and he was looking at her with the same level of intensity. Given the electricity arcing between them, he was curious to know what she would say.
She played it safe by commenting on Envy. “That was a rotten trick that Todd played on Roark.”
“Rigging it so he missed his appointment with Hadley.”
“You set me up perfectly. I didn’t see it coming.”
“That’s good.”
“Now what is Roark going to do about it?”
“What do you think he should do?”
“Beat the hell out of Todd.”
He whistled at her vehemence.
“Well, isn’t that what a guy would do?”
“Probably,” he replied. “Fury would be his initial reaction, and he would seek a physical outlet. But let’s talk about it. Remember, Todd was only paying Roark back for the toothbrush stunt.”
“But that was a prank,” she exclaimed. “Gross and disgusting, granted. But college boys do stuff like that to each other, don’t they?”
“Did you know college boys who did stuff like that?”
“I attended a girls’ school.”
“Right, right, I read that,” he said, as though just reminded of that part of her bio, which he knew as well as if he’d written it himself. “So it’s safe to assume that you have no experience of college boys and how they act.”
“No, it’s safe to assume that my experience is limited to how they act on dates with girls, which is different from how they interact with each other.”
“Is that how you met your husband? On a date during college?”
“Much later than that.”
“How much later?”
“When he came to work at Matherly Press.”
“Smart move on his part. He married the boss’s daughter.”
That irked her. So much so that Parker knew he wasn’t the first to connect those two dots. It had crossed her mind, too. Perhaps too often for comfort. Her expression turned professional and peeved.
“Can we get back to your book, please?”
“Sure. Sorry for the digression.”
While taking a moment to collect her thoughts, she pulled her lower lip through her teeth a couple of times and absently fiddled with a button on her blouse. Parker wondered when those two insignificant, subconsciously feminine gestures had become so goddamn sexy.
“A prank is one thing,” she said. “But Todd’s joke had a meanness about it that was unmistakable. It wasn’t harmless. It couldn’t be undone as easily as buying a new toothbrush. He was tinkering with Roark’s future. This practical joke could damage Roark’s grade, compromise his capstone, affect his writing ambitions, and possibly even crush them. He can’t let it pass and do nothing.”
“True. Roark won’t fold. He won’t easily forgive the experience, but it’ll sure as hell motivate him.”
“Yes, yes,” she said excitedly. “This will fuel his determination to succeed.”
“To reach a level of success that Todd will—”
“Envy,” she said, finishing the thought for him.
He grinned. “Per your suggestion, I’ll let him blow off steam, land a few punches, which Todd will concede he deserved.”
“So they remain friends?”
“It wouldn’t be a book if they didn’t. If their friendship fell apart here, the story would be over.”
“Not necessarily. It could be just as powerful if they became bitter enemies at this point.”
“Wait and see, Maris.”
“What?”
“Give me time.”
Her eyes widened marginally. “You’ve got it plotted already, don’t you?”
“For the most part,” he confessed with a negligent shrug. “There are some details still to hammer out.”
She tried, but failed, to looked piqued. “You’ve been stringing me along.”
“To get you excited.”
“I’m excited.” Her animation proved it. “May I make another suggestion?”
“I don’t promise to take it.”
“Agreed.”
“Then fire away.”
“Could we see Roark falling in love?”
“With the girl who went back to her boyfriend?”
“Yes. You told the reader that he fell in love, but we didn’t get to see it. We didn’t experience it along with him. You don’t even give this girl a name. I think it could be very poignant, as well as useful toward developing his character. How he handles the disappointment. That kind of thing. And what if…”