Signs of Interest II
by J Hontz and S Pickrel

@copyright 2009 all rights reserved
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Slinky and the Waiter Suit
 



Dolled up!  Slinky dress!  On a week night.  Justine snorted in derision at herself.  She smoothed the soft knit down over her hips and checked the view from the back, craning her neck around and twisting in front of the mirror.  The soft tan accented the ivory hue of her skin in just the right way.  it would do as would the raven hair pulled back in gold clips to fall down the back of her head like a mane.  She picked up her wrap and bag, checking to ensure it held the essentials...cash, credit card, tissues, lipstick, nose powder and a full container of pepper spray.  Twenty minutes later she was pulling into the parking lot behind Goldie's bookstore.

Goldie had the 'closed' sign on the door, which meant she'd cleared the decks for the guys. Justine banged on the glass as usual.

Goldie came toward the door not long afterwards wearing one of those floaty dresses she liked, all bits of chiffon trailing her through the air, wafting with her scent. Thank god Goldie's scent was light and not something heavy like Gardenia.

Goldie was in her short hairdo phase so the most she could do there was pouf it up and add big hoop earrings and makeup. Also, thankfully, Goldie generally speaking went easy on the makeup. She didn't really need it with those giant blue eyes of hers.

Goldie was grinning when she opened the door.  "Look at you! Wow. Luc's gonna love it."

Justine hissed under her breath.  "This isn't a date."

Goldie's eyes opened wide and she put her hand over her mouth. "No!  Of course it isn't. We're just showing two hunks the town. Not a date, not a bit of it!"

"So where are they?"

"Maybe they got lost?  Oh, wait, there comes a car, I bet that's them."  Sure enough, a Jeep was pulling up to the curb and they could see the guys in it.

Justin was out and holding the door for Goldie as soon as it stopped, his eyes gleaming appreciation as they swept her from head to toe.  "Most ungirl like," he said sadly.

"It is?" Goldie said, looking down at herself.

Luc smiled at Justine. "You look, very nice."

Justin nodded, his expression moving to distressed.  "Ready before we arrived."

"Well, since this isn't a date," Goldie explained.

He growled.  There was no other word for it, Justine realized.  Like a lion warning off the some interloper after his fresh kill.  Luc on the other hand remained impassive.

"You asked us out," Justin said firmly.  "I recall it distinctly."

"True, I did. A friendly meal, so no need to be grouchy," Goldie told him. "Nor," she added in a mock whisper, "any need to frighten Justine off. She's dataphobic."

"She's afraid of information?" Luc asked, baffled.  He gave her a look.  "She's a college professor.  How can she be afraid of data?"

"Is he always like this?" Goldie wanted to know, staring at Luc.

Luc whose mind seemed to have been elsewhere, said, "Huh?"

"Yeah," was all Justin said.

Justine's, "I am not data-phobic," clashed with his answer.  "Or date-phobic," she added, feeling a strange need to make sure that was plain.

"Maybe you had something better to do than show us around. I'm sorry if we ruined your plans for the evening," Luc said to Justine.

"No," she said hastily.  "Really, it's fine.  So uhm, Goldie, where are we eating?"

"At the Yorkshire. I made reservations. Turn left here, Luc," Goldie added as Luc approached ain intersection.  "They serve steaks and prime rib, so I figured for big boys like you two it might be the best option available."

"A powerful engine needs plenty of fuel," Justin observed airily.  "Right Luc?"

"Oh yeah, really. I'm sorry, Justine. He really is always like this."

"Not housebroken, huh?" she asked. 

Luc grinned. "No. He pretends it's a feature, not a bug, but those of us who are a bit more civilized know better."

Justine glance over her shoulder into the back seat of the Jeep.  Goldie didn't seem to mind his features or bugs.

"You're just jealous," Justin snorted.  "Too uptight, that's you."

"Yeah, my bug," Luc admitted. "So, you're a professor?" he asked Justine. "What is your specialty?"

"Medieval history, mainly European, fourteenth century," she said.  "Too many Prince Valiant comics as a kid, I think."

"Oh," he replied, rather blankly. 'So how did you and Goldie hook up?  Kind of opposites."

"Roommates in college," Justine said.  "It was the Odd Couple come to William and Mary."

"I'm sorry? I don't get the reference."

Justine looked puzzled for a moment.  "It was a movie and then a sit com about a neat freak and slob living together...best friends."

"Oh. Oh, I see. Who's the slob? Besides Justin."

"Well in this case it the free spirit versus the conservative, I suppose.  Though Goldie isn't afflicted with tidiness when she works."

"I heard that," Goldie commented from the back seat. "The restaurant is on the left up ahead about a mile, Luc," she added.

Luc nodded.

"Well you're not, girlfriend.  You're oblivious to everything when you're working," Justine said.

Goldie sighed. "Okay, I admit it. But otherwise I'm not so bad. So, Justin, I guess you're the only slob.  What do you do? Leave wet towels on the bathroom floor?"

"Only after I wipe up the floor."

"Well, that's one good point for you then," Goldie replied with a laugh. "And how did you and Luc here meet?"

"Well, we kind of grew up together," Justin said. 

"That explains it," Goldie replied.

"Explains what?" Luc asked as he pulled into the parking lot of the Yorkshire Steak and Seafood Restaurant.

"Mannerisms," Goldie replied. "The way you two move. Your accents. I can't place them."

"Yeah, I can't either," Justine said.

"Our fathers moved us around a lot," Luc replied.

"Oh. Military?" Goldie asked.

"Yeah, military," Luc replied, meeting Justin's eyes in the rearview mirror, as he shut down the Jeep.  "Looks like a nice place," he added, regarding the restaurant.

"Army?  Navy?" Justine asked.

"Marines," Luc replied, getting out to move around to open the door for Justine.  "He couldn't talk about it much. Hush hush stuff," he added as she got out.

"He can't but you can?" she asked, arching a brow.

He raised an eyebrow. "Only that he was military and we moved a lot.  We, Justin and me, we didn't grow up like normal American kids is all."

"Ah," she said.  "Interesting that your fathers stayed together from duty station to duty station.  Unless they were in the same unit."

"Yeah, same unit," Luc replied. "So Goldie, the prime rib here is good? Rare?"

"Oh yeah, it is good," Goldie said as she led the four of them inside. Goldie waved at the maitre'd and he hurried over to give her a hug.  "Jacques!  You look... good," she said, looking him up and down.

"Wearing more clothes than last time, Goldie," he replied with a laugh.

"Yeah. Too bad," Goldie answered with a grin. "So, I've got reservations. These are my friends."

Jacques raised an eyebrow as he studied the two men. "Aren't they just. Got you a real good table, Goldie. Don't frown, Professor, you'll get wrinkles."

Justine grinned.  "Thinking about term papers.  Does it every time."

Jacques shuddered. "So glad I'm not in school any more," he muttered as he led them to a table near windows that looked out on rolling hills, lit only with the dying embers of a setting sun.

Luc moved to hold Justine's chair before Jacques could manage it.  Jacques, supressing a grin, moved aside and let him seat her, and then let Justin seat Goldie.  He handed round menus. "Your server will be here in short order. Enjoy dinner, and ... whatever else."

Justin grinned.  "Especially the whatever else."

"And just what makes you think there'll be any whatever else?" Goldie demanded.

"I'm a guy.  It's what we do," he said.

Justine choked. Goldie frowned, color burning her cheeks.

"Wine? Shall we order wine?" Luc asked.

"Red would be good," Justin said, smirking.  "A nice zinfandel...a blush to match the ..."

"You like to live dangerously, don't you," Justine interrupted.

His smirk grew.

"Justin," Luc said quietly. Then to Goldie, he added, "He didn't mean to hurt you. He gets carried away sometimes."

Justin frowned, his eyes suddenly contrite.  "I'm sorry honey.  I was just teasing...really.  I didn't mean anything."

"Right," Goldie said, "I'm heading for the ladies room." She got up and walked off.

Justine sighed and excused herself to follow Goldie.  "You ok?"

Goldie turned around to look at her. "I'm fine. No, I'm not. He thinks I'm a slut."

"Actually, I don't think he does.  I think he's an outrageous flirt though," Justine said, leaning back against the sink.  "He uses it as a defense."

"Well, then, his defense worked like a charm, cuz it sure as hell has driven me off," Goldie said, staring down at her shoes. "Look, I'm fine with flirting, but... I don't get him, you know?"

"Well you did start all this with the modeling thing," Justine said gently.  "All body and nothing else.  Maybe he's reacting to that?"

"I don't know..." Goldie replied miserably. "Maybe."

"But I do think he likes you," Justine said.  "For what it's worth."

Goldie sighed. "Half the town thinks I'm a slut. I don't know why it matters to me here."

"No they don't.  And you know, at least he's open about wanting your body, girlfriend."

"Yeah, well... help me get through tonight and I'll never have to see either of them again," Goldie said, tossing her hair. "I can find other models."

"We can give Jacques some money to feed them with and then leave.  I'll just go get my things.  And ask them to call us a cab," Justine said after studying her face for a minute.  "Be right back." 

"No, Justine. No. It's all right. That's cowardly."

"No it's not,"  she said, "you're uncomfortable and unhappy and feeling put down."

"Yeah, but if you're right he didn't mean to," Goldie replied. "And you like Luc, so I don't think it's fair to make you leave over me being a jerk."

"Girlfriend, he's just a man.  But you...you're my friend.  Now tell what you really want to do."

"Go back out there and cut Justin to the quick. Politely."

Justine considered her again for a long moment.  "He's going to grovel you know.  As soon as we hit the table again."

"Nope. He's arrogant, he won't grovel."

"Betcha ten bucks," Justine shot back.

"You're on, girlfriend," Goldie replied, slapping Justine's palm.

Goldie led the way back to the table. Luc was on his feet the moment he spotted them, Justin right behind him.

Justin smiled tentatively.  "Goldie..."

"Are you guys ready to order?" Goldie asked. "I'm starving."

The guys sat down again, Justin waving the waiter over.  He waited until they'd ordered and then tried again.  "I really am a total jerk."

"No argument here," Justine said, sipping her wine. 

Goldie just sipped her wine.

He sighed.  "I'll pay you to let me model," he said.  "I really am sorry."

"Don't grovel," Goldie hissed at him.

He blinked at her confused.  "But I mean it."

Justine laughed and snapped her fingers holding out her hand, palm up.  "Pay up girlfriend."

"Geez, I'm already buying you dinner," Goldie replied.

Luc looked from one woman to the other and back again, clearly thoroughly confused.

"A bet's a bet," Justine said.  "And I figured we were splitting the check so I brought the credit card."

Goldie reached for her purse and pulled out a tenner. She slapped it into Justine's open palm. Then she glared at Justin. "I wouldn't paint you if... if... grrr."

Justin smiled and pulled out his cell phone.  The he dialed 1 800 Flowers and ordered two dozen roses sent to her book store, along with a teddy bear and chocolate.  "So, how often do you eat here that the maitre'd knows you two?"

"He posed for me," Goldie replied grudgingly. "And he took Medieval History with Justine, although I doubt he knows what Europe is."

"Why would he do that then?" Luc asked, baffled.

"Required course," Justine said.  "He needed the social studies credit.  The prof he thought he was going to get is known to teach a skate course, but he had a stroke and I took the class.  He was so screwed he finally came to me and told me all about it."

Jacques, unaware he was the topic of conversation, arrived with dinner, served it, and sailed off.

-----------------

"He was a great model," Goldie commented, as she watched Jacques saunter off.

Justin took a bite of his prime rib.  "What makes a great model?"

She finally looked at him for the first time since coming back from the bathroom. "It takes a person who recognizes that it is about the art and not anything else.  Someone who can be patient and is willing to hold a pose.  Someone who isn't self-centered, or who at least can put their own self aside for the duration of the session."

"How long is a modeling session?"

"It varies. I try not to demand too much of the model. Fifteen minutes can seem an eternity when you're holding a difficult pose."

"Fifteen minutes doesn't seem that long," Justin said.

"Can be when you aren't allowed to move," Justine said, then popped a piece of shrimp in her mouth.

"Or talk," Goldie added.

Luc almost choked.  After a moment he added, "Prime rib is great, Goldie. Thanks."

"Really.  Thanks a lot.  And for being so nice," Justin added.

"Don't grovel," Goldie replied.

"Do what then?"

"Be your normally hopeless self," Luc suggested. "I haven't heard you this quiet in a decade or three."

Justin nodded and forked some beef into his mouth. 

"So, Justine.  Do you love to teach, or teach because you love history?" Luc asked.

"Both and neither," she replied.  "Pretty screwy, huh?"

"I don't know," Luc replied thoughtfully. "Explain it to me. Please.  I'd like to understand."

"I love teaching but it gets in the way of research.  I love research but it gets in the way of teaching.  I teach so I can do research.  The university manages my grant funds but in return I have to deal with freshman history classes and grad students who are only that cause they can't get a job."

"I see," Luc said as he digested that. "Well, maybe I don't," he added with a grin.  "Goldie, you only teach art part time?"

Goldie grinned. "Yeah, so I can actually do art, right?" She shrugged. "Compromises,  you know?"

"And the bookstore?" Justin asked.

"So I can pay the bills. I sort of inherited it from my aunt. She'd want me to keep it open," Goldie explained.

Justin nodded.  "I'll have to do more reading."

Goldie leaned toward him. "Will you stop it? And call 800-flowers and cancel that order."

Justin set his fork down and turned his whole body towards her, capturing her eyes with his and let her read everything he was thinking, forcing her to see it.  Her small, almost inaudible gasp of surprise was a warm balm to his male soul.  After a moment he turned back to his prime rib.  "Why?"

"Because.... because  I was wrong to take offense. I .. I jumped to a conclusion and I wronged you by doing it, so I should be sending you flowers, but you don't seem the type to want flowers," she replied.

"Everyone, even guys, should get a gift of flowers at least once in their lives.  But that doesn't change the fact that you're a lady.  It's a man's job to send you flowers," he said simply.  Think of the gift as the props for a still life in watercolors.  You can call it..."  He broke off, chewing for a moment and then shrugged, the motion sending his muscles rippling visibly beneath the waiter suit.  "'Signs of Interest.'"

Justine's mouth formed an awed 'O'.  Then she pulled the ten out of her pocket and passed it towards Goldie.  "Not groveling."

Luc, sat there, his food forgotten, quite fascinated by it all. He looked a question at Justine.

"Don't look at me," she said.  "He's your buddy.  I just met him."

"Why the cash, is what I'm wondering," Luc replied.

"I bet her he'd grovel to get back in her good graces.  But he's not groveling."  Justine said the words while watching Justin and Goldie.  "This is better than TV," she added.

Luc laughed, making Goldie look around. Luc was unrepentant, and grinned at her. "So, do you still want him to sit for you?" he asked Goldie.

Goldie bit her lip. "No, I don't think so."

"Why not," Justin demanded.  "Regardless, you can't back out now.  You asked, and I accepted.  Done deal."

"I'm not.. I mean, I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with it now," Goldie confessed. "I don't normally have, you know, friends, model. It's... uhm, personal."

Justin smiled.  "Is your work exhibited anywhere?  How do you sign it?"

Goldie frowned. "Why?"

"So I can see some of it without you looking on and being nervous about what I'll think of it."  Justin said like it was obvious.  "Sides if I like it I may buy some.  Christmas is coming and Luc's birthday is in a couple of weeks."

"Goldie frowned harder. "I don't want you to buy anything. I .. I don't need you to .. to .. humor me," she added blushing. "I can do fine without friends, or acquaintances and especially fathers running around trying to make me feel better by buying my stuff."

Justin arched a brow.  "Good.  Because I wouldn't buy something to make you feel better.  Or humor you.  From the sketches I saw you don't need me to do that.  You've got phenomenal eye to hand coordination, you use shadow for effect and line for emotion when you draw.  Seeing that, I want to know how you use color and if you handle it differently than you do shadow to create nuance.  I suspect, from the drawing, that you layer the color when you use oil or acrylic, but with water color or pastels you're way more subtle.  Do you sculpt?"

Goldie stared at him for almost a minute before she finally said, "No."

"My friend the art critic. Who knew?" Luc murmured to Justine.

Justin wiped his mouth as Goldie took her last bite.  Then he stood and took her hand, drawing her up.  "Come on, we need to leave them alone for a while."

"You do?" Justine echoed.  "Why?"

Justin frowned.  "So you can talk about me while I'm not here and then tell Goldie all about it later.  She doesn't trust me."

"I don't trust Luc either," Goldie replied. "And we don't leave each other alone with men we don't know. Right, Justine?  It's a safety issue."

Justin sighed.  "We're going to the bar.  You can see her and she can see you.  I may be aggressive as hell but I am not going to do anything you don't want me to do.  I know what no means.  And you're never going to realize you can trust me with anything if you don't give me a chance to prove it to you."

Goldie opened her mouth and then closed it before she said anything.

"He gets this way. Often," Luc explained. "Just humor him, is my advice. I'll make sure Justine can see you at all times."

"You really are a bossy guy, aren't you?" Goldie said, eyeing Justin. "And you really like to get your way."

Luc grinned. "Right-ho, on both counts."

Justin ignored Luc and steered Goldie to the bar with a hand at the small of her back.  Yeah he was dominant and controlling.  Why it surprised Goldie he didn't know.  She'd spent all day and most of the evening getting the wrong idea about him.  Not that that surprised him.  If she'd have gotten the right idea about all of it he and Luc would have been in trouble, but still...he was only being up front with her.  "Goldie, baby doll," he said as he helped her up on a bar stool that had a direct line of sight to the table, "how about you and I just start over.  We pretend we are just meeting this second."

She ordered a vodka collins and then regarded him. "I admit, I don't get you. What do you and Luc do?" she asked. "Pretend I don't know anything about you."

"Well, we're sort of in law enforcement," he said after ordering a scotch rocks. 

"Oh my god, you're narcs..." Goldie said, her eyes wide.

He looked horrified.  "We are not!"

"Oh. Well, what other kind of law enforcement hangs around SCA events?" she asked, sipping her drink. "And what sort of cops use swords?"

"We weren't there as cops.  And we like swords.  Sort of like some guys like guns or fishing or something.  It's a hobby."

"Oh. Well what kind of cops are you then?"

"The kind that get called in when they need help," he said.  "Sort of like SWAT."

She frowned. "In Williamsburg?????"

"The entire east coast" he clarified.  "Helicopters and planes make it easy.  We just like living here."

"Oh. So like you're on call and could go any moment?  That makes for a difficult life, doesn't it?"  She frowned. "And dangerous."

He shrugged.  "We like it," he said.  "And it's not like we get shot at a lot."  He grinned.  So far he'd told her nothing but the truth.  Sort of.  No lies.  He wasn't responsible for the interpretation she put on the facts.

"So you two really grew up together? Your dads in the military?"

He nodded solemnly.  "We really did."

"God, no wonder you're so... so... bossy. I don't much like cops."

"What do you like," he asked, unfazed by her rudeness.

"Guys I can be myself around," she replied. "And guys I trust not to arrest my friends."

He looked at her for a moment  and then he pulled some money out of wallet and set it on the bar.  "Enjoy your evening," he said and walked away.

"Wait," she said, getting up off the stool to follow him. She touched his arm. "Please. Don't you like have to arrest someone if they're smoking dope? I mean.. I.. Please."

"Why?  You're pretty much determined now to think the worst, so why drag this out?"

A big fat tear rolled down her cheek. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I'm .. I guess I don't want to go to jail, and ... and we'd better not see one another. I'll get a cab."

"I don't work narcotics," he said. "I thought we established that.  So is there some other reason you think I might arrest you?"

"Cuz of my dad, maybe..." she said barely loud enough to hear.

"Uh?  Your DAD?"

She nodded. "He spent eleven years in prison already.  I don't know.... He swears he's straight now, but..."

"In general, I don't arrest daughters for things their fathers do," he ground out.  "It's a rule I have.  What the hell do you think I am?"

"I... The cops I knew weren't nice. The ones who still harrass my dad aren't nice. I'm sorry."

"Is every artist you know the same?  Or every college professor?  Or doctor or book reader or next door neighbor?"

"No," she said in a very small voice.

"Right.  But cops are because we're just all around bastards who like to be mean to people and do all kinds of cruel things just because we can.  As I said, enjoy your evening, Ms Hawkins," Justin said in a tired voice.  Then he turned again and headed for the door.

"Uh oh," Luc said, watching Justin headed toward the door. "Doesn't look like things went well."

Justine sighed.  "No, it doesn't.  If you'd like to go after him, we can get a cab home," she said.

"Can I see you again?"

"If you'd like," she said, and scribbled a number on a napkin.  "Call me."

"Do you like?" Luc called after her as she hurried off.

"Yes," she tossed over her shoulder.

Luc tossed a wad of bills onto the table to pay for dinner and headed out to the parking lot. Good thing he'd driven.  He found Justin out there kicking the Jeep.

"So... " Luc said.

"Just drive," he said as he got in.

Luc got behind the wheel and did as he was told. Justin was better at talking than he was so silence was fine with Luc.  Granted, what Justin had to say might well affect their reason for being in Williamsburg, but even so... Luc didn't have to tell Justin what the stakes were.

"How much scotch do we have at home?" Luc asked. "Do I need to stop for a bottle?"

"Stopping works," Justin grunted.  "Did you know," he said after a moment, "that being cops makes us scum?"

"You like her," Luc translated, as he pulled into a package store parking lot.

"Shit man, as smart as you are, you're ready for rocket science next."

"Hang," Luc replied and went in coming out a few minutes later with two bottles.

"Well," Luc said as he got behind the wheel again. "I suppose I can keep trying to cultivate Justine. I'm not as good at this as you are. Damn I wish I could come up with bright commentary."

"She likes the tongue tied type."

Luc frowned. "How do you know?"

"Because she's not into chit chat," Justin said, as if it were obvious.  Justin took a swallow straight from the bottle.  "Christ, I can't believe that little witch made me loose my temper like that."

Luc parked the car in their driveway and reached for the bottle. "Yeah. Not like you at all." Luc agreed then took a pull.

Justin grunted.  "So we need a plan.  Since I fucked up the last one."

"I don't suppose you can get past this with Goldie?" Luc suggested hopefully.

"Good question," he said, watching Luc unlock the front door.  "She really doesn't like cops.  Something about getting arrested because of her dad and worried about smoking pot.  You know, one minute she acts like she's got a brain and knows how to use it and two seconds later, the lights go off and she's operating on some other wavelength than the rest of the sentient world."

Luc froze. "Because of her dad?" he asked.

"Something about how he spent eleven years in prison and he swears he's straight now, but she acted like she didn't believe it," Justin said, pulling a pair of glasses out and filling them with ice.  He handed one to Luc and then headed for the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

Luc frowned and dropped into a nearby chair. He sipped his drink. "Had to be scary for a little girl seeing her daddy arrested and then sent to prison." Luc was silent for a time. "You know, I sort of remember something from the briefings about someone imprisoned over a theft he didn't do..."

"Yeah," Justin said, slowing his drinking down to sips.  "I know."  He sighed and held the glass to his forehead.  "Let's pause and review what we know for sure, shall we," he suggested.  "One, we have a female artist who signs her work with a ideograph and not her name.  She likes to draw nudes, paint nudes, sketch nudes, all things nudes is her forte.  She lives somewhere in the vicinity of William and Mary.  The entire universe adores her nudes.  They leave even robots dry mouthed.  Two, we have intelligence suggesting someone had decided the way to corner the market on said nudes is to go straight to the source.  Not bad thinking, I will admit.  But still not a nice way to play the game.  We are tasked with finding out who she is and stopping our entreprenurial friend."

"Amazingly enough," Luc continued, "we think we've already met said artist, and if it ain't her, surely she knows who said artist is, since it is a pretty small community here. You asked Goldie how she signed her work, but she never answered. And now you two are feuding.  Hmmm. Well, I'm going to call Justine in the morning. Maybe I can get her to arrange for me to swing by Goldie's studio and see if I can spot a painting or two that might be signed with the ideograph."

"Yeah.  Now why would our artist sign with an ideograph and not her name?  I mean that's pretty strange."  Justin finished his drink.  "I'll see if I can't figure out a way to smooth things over with Goldie.  I don't suppose Justine said anything to the point?"

Luc shook his head. "When Goldie became suspicious about why you asked her about her work I figured better not ask Justine too. So, no. On the other hand, maybe Justine can help Goldie calm down. With luck she's working on her right now."

Justin poured more scotch.  "Let's hope so.  Somebody needs to.  That woman is a doll, but she has, as they say around here, issues."

"Which, I might suggest, is what makes her such a great artist. Even if she isn't the one we're looking for, she's damn good."  Luc sighed. "So, let's get stinking drunk and forget tonight. Earth girls are more trouble than they're worth."

"No shit," Justin said and poured another round.

---------------

Goldie was silent as the cab took her and Justine back to the bookstore.  She'd already said she was sorry, more times than she could count. It hadn't helped.

And Justine had liked Luc which was what really hurt. Justine didn't like too many guys. It was a shame, really. And here she'd screwed up what should have been a terrific evening for her.  She sighed, and wiped away another stray tear.

"Girlfiend, you know I love you, so stop worrying about me," Justine said, handing her a wad of tissues.  "You like him don't you?"

Goldie nodded. "Yeah, but everything I say is wrong. I don't know why."

Justine put an arm around her and hugged her close.  "Well, he didn't know you didn't like cops and you didn't know he isn't like the cops that harrass your dad.  Sounds like just standard disconnects on the road to true love to me."

Goldie shook her head. "He's the type who won't ever forget this. He hates me."

"That's not what I saw.  I saw his face as he left.  He was not a happy man."  Justine hesitated.  "Look, I know you.  You hate yourself for judging him like that right?"

Goldie nodded. "Yeah. I just.. Why'd he have to be a cop! Anything but a cop. I'm sane about anything other than a cop."

"Well, are you past the cop part now?" Justine asked.  "Cause if you are you could do what you said you ought to do at dinner."

"What?" Goldie asked, looking startled. "Do what?"

Send him flowers.  Or better yet, do the still life he suggested.  Send him a preliminary sketch."

Goldie frowned. "You think he'd like that? After... after tonight?  If he were me, I wouldn't want to have anything to do with me ever again."

"Well fortunately, he isn't you, he's a guy and I'd bet he really likes it."

"You know, I'm supposed to be the one who understands men the best," Goldie pointed out.

"Yeah, well...in this case it's understandable.  He's a cop," Justine teased.
 

 

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