Brown-Eyed Girl (Travis Family #4)(26)

“This is one of my favorite pieces,” Hollis said, guiding me to a sculpture on a pedestal. “It’s only ten thousand. Such a bargain.”

I found myself staring blankly at a cast polyurethane head that had been divided in half. A collection of found objects – things such as a broken dish, a plastic ball, a cell phone case – had been wedged between the two sides. “I’m not sure how to interpret postmodern sculpture,” I admitted.

“This artist takes ordinary objects and changes their context —” Hollis was forced to pause as her phone vibrated. “Let me check this.” Reading the message, she gave an exasperated sigh. “I can’t slip away for ten minutes without someone needing me to do something. This is what I hired my secretary for. I swear, that girl is one twist short of a Slinky.”

“If there’s something you need to take care of, please go right ahead,” I said, inwardly relieved at the prospect of being able to escape from the skyroom. “Don’t worry about me.”

Hollis patted my arm, her rings clattering like castanets. “I’ll find someone for you to meet. I can’t run off and leave you here alone.”

“I’m fine, Hollis. Really —”

She pulled me even farther across the treacherous floor. We passed a trio of women chatting and laughing and an elderly couple examining a sculpture. Hollis tugged me toward a photographer who stood in the corner taking candid shots of the old couple. “Shutterbug,” Hollis called out playfully, “look who I’ve got with me.”

“Hollis,” I protested faintly.

Before the man lowered his camera, I knew who he was. My whole body knew. I felt his presence instantly, even before I looked up into the eyes that had haunted me every night since we had met. Except that now they were as hard as onyx.

“Hi, Joe,” I managed to whisper.

Eight

“Joe’s doing us a favor by taking some pictures for the website,” Hollis said.

He set his camera by the sculpture, his gaze pinning me like a butterfly to a spreading board. “Avery. Nice to see you again.”

“Would you mind keeping company with Avery while she waits here for your cousin Ryan?” Hollis asked.

“My pleasure,” Joe said.

“There’s no need —” I began uncomfortably, but Hollis had already disappeared in a flurry of ostrich feathers.

Silence.

I hadn’t expected it would be this difficult to face Joe. The memories of everything we had done surrounded us like scorch marks in the air. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” I managed to say. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly. “I haven’t handled this well,” I said.

His face was unreadable. “No, you haven’t.”

“I’m sorry —” I stopped, having made the mistake of letting my gaze drop too far. A brief glimpse of the glass floor had given me a bizarre tilting sensation, as if the entire house had begun to rotate sideways.

“If you don’t want to see me again,” Joe said, “that’s your decision. But I’d at least like to know —”

“Jesus.” The room wouldn’t stop moving. I wobbled and reached out to grasp the sleeve of Joe’s jacket in a desperate bid for balance. My evening clutch dropped to the floor. I made the mistake of looking down at it and wobbled again.

Reflexively Joe reached out to steady me. “You okay?” I heard him ask.

“Yes. No.” I gripped one of his wrists.

“Too much to drink?”

It was like standing on the deck of a ship in a rolling sea. “No, it’s not that… the floor, it’s giving me vertigo. Shit, shit–”

“Look at me.” Joe gripped my wrist and reached for my other arm. I stared blindly at the dark blur of his face until my eyes refocused. The rocklike steadiness of his hold was the only thing that kept me from tipping over. “I’ve got you,” he said.

A wave of nausea drained the color from my skin. Beads of cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

“The floor does this to at least half the people who try to walk on it,” Joe continued. “The effect of the water below throws you off balance. Take a deep breath.”

“I didn’t want to walk out here,” I said desperately. “I only did it because Hollis insisted, and I’m trying like hell to land her as a client.” The sweat was going to ruin my makeup. I was going to dissolve like a chalk drawing in the rain.

“Would it help you to know that the floor is made out of layers of structural safety glass that’s at least two inches thick?”

“No” came my woebegone reply.

The corner of his mouth twitched, and his expression softened. Carefully he released one of my arms and took my hand. “Close your eyes and let me lead you.”

I gripped his hand and tried to follow as he moved us forward. After a couple of steps I stumbled, panic clamoring through my body. His arm locked around me immediately, hauling me against him, but the tumbling sensation persisted.

“Oh God,” I said in dazed misery. “There’s no way I’m getting off this stupid floor without falling.”

“I’m not going to let you fall.”

“I feel sick to my stomach —”

“Easy. Stay still and keep your eyes closed.” Keeping his arm around me, Joe reached into his tux jacket and pulled out a handkerchief. I felt the soft folded cloth press gently against my forehead and cheeks, absorbing the film of sweat. “You just got yourself a little worked up, that’s all,” he murmured. “You’ll feel better once your blood pressure goes down. Breathe.” Pushing a lock of hair away from my face, he continued to hold me. “You’re fine.” His voice was quiet, soothing. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”