At a second knock, she called, “Be right out!” and washed her hands, looking herself in the eye, hard and straight.
She couldn’t look tonight. Fine. That was fine, but she was done letting Joey decide her fate. No more jumping at shadows or hiding in restrooms.
Rory’s smile when she made it to her seat helped ground her when he asked, “So, what do you photograph?”
She blinked at the question, so mundane in a world falling apart at her feet. So practical and regular and…calming. “Weddings, mostly,” she forced through lips that were still numb.
“Right. You ever do anything more…I dunno…artsy?”
“I, uh… I used to, but recently, it hasn’t been…possible.”
“Well, if you do, let me know. We’re nothing special, but we do show art atLe Nookfrom time to time.” He wiped the bar in front of her with a rag and leaned down to rest on folded arms. “That wall, and that one over there.” He pointed. “We could put up some lighting, you know. Make it a bit posher for you.”
“Oh, I couldn’t…” Uma stopped, made herself examine his face, open and friendly.Don’t mess this up, she thought.Don’t let Joey come in here and fuck up a real opportunity.
Okay, so she was missing a few essential things, but she had to start somewhere, right? There was no one here to keep her from doing what she wanted. Joey was at the other end of the state. Maybe farther, for all she knew.
AndfuckJoey. Just fuck him for marking her like that. Fuck him for showing up here tonight. Again and again and again, if only in her brain.
So, sure. Why not show some pictures? “Yeah, that sounds nice. I’d like that. I just, uh, don’t have access to a camera right now, so—”
“No worries. Bring your work in when you can, and I’ll take a look. I could even put out some nibbles for the opening. Make it like a real gallery.”
The idea was exhilarating, the possibilities endless.
“Where are you staying, Uma?” Rory added.
“Saint George, next to the big, white farmhouse.”
“The house beside Ive Shifflett’s place?”
“Yeah.”
“Cell Block Eight.”
“What?”
“You with the old biddy next door? One who never goes outside?”
“Yep.” Uma’s lips compressed a bit at that description, honest though it was. She was oddly protective of her boss. “Why’d you call it that?”
“It’s that cul-de-sac. Only two houses on it, and they’re both…you know.”
“No, what?”
“Never mind. Not my story to tell. Anyway, I’ve got one more fabulous cocktail for you to taste.”
“Oh no, I can’t.” She probably wouldn’t be able to afford two cocktails.
“It’s on me, love.”
She considered Rory’s tempting, mysterious smile and thought of the trip home. Could she do it? Walk down the street, all by herself, out in the open, where anyone could follow her? Could she put herself out there like that? She’d have to return the next day, in broad daylight, to get her car.
“I’ll take it.” Her voice sounded stronger than her insides. Was that all it took to be strong? Booze and bravado? And the hope of seeing a big, burly blacksmith at the end of the road? “I’ll walk home,” she said, her voice strong and sure.
He reached under the bar for a glass andtinkedit against hers, a knowing gleam in his eye. “Cheers, Uma.”
“Cheers, Rory.”
