A Change of Heart (46 page)

It was dissipation!
 
There was a look in his eyes--that he would try anything.
 
Desperation.
 
The best days of his life were long over and any thrill he could capture would be better than the future he could now envision, which was nothing more than the palest dilution of a past that Grady remembered as far more glorious than it had actually been.
 
This was a man who lived for his glory days, but even they were never that splendid.
  
At least R.J. lived for the future--not the past.
 
Annabeth was amazed that she'd deciphered all that from a short glance.
 

"How about a little kiss for the New Year," he asked, almost plaintively.

"Excuse me," said Annabeth, no longer nervous at all.
 
She walked past Grady and out of the kitchen.
 
Where was Doug?
 
She scanned the faces in the living room.
 
No.
 
Where was he?
 
She remembered seeing him led off down a hallway and determinedly, she moved in that direction, but before she exited the living room he appeared.
 
Walking confidently, her eyes never leaving his face, Annabeth moved toward him and into his arms.
 
She tilted her face up toward his and smiled.
 
Reaching one arm up to his neck, she lay it gently against his hairline.
 
The other slid around his back, drawing him closer to her.
 

Doug looked deeply into Annabeth's eyes, and they both smiled.
 
She stretched up on tiptoe, bringing her face closer to his, waiting for him to lean in a bit.
 
"Happy New Year," she whispered, parting her lips and never letting her gaze waver from his.
 
He reached down then and let his mouth close over hers, the kiss soft and long, sweet and tender, no urgency, just affection brought at last to its natural conclusion.
 
They stood together for a long time in that embrace, and when the New Year's siren went off, they continued kissing, the lights in the room like silver sparkles swirling around them.

"Happy New Year," he said, finally moving his lips a millimeter from her own.
 
Pulling herself tightly against Doug, Annabeth lingered there in his embrace, safe, warm and content.

They repeated that kiss at her door when he drove her home, then she said, "You're coming in, aren't you?"
 
He looked carefully at her.
 
Annabeth realized that he'd really wanted her all along, but had known she wasn't ready, that she had to make the first move.
 
She knew how to say no now, but she could also choose to say yes.
 
Annabeth opened the door and took Doug's hand, leading him to the stairs, when Sally yelled from the living room.

"Mom?
 
You home?"

Annabeth looked after the sound and saw Sally and Jackson seated on the couch.
 
Sally pointed to a small suitcase beside the couch.
 
"Thought we could get an earlier start if I stayed over.
 
Can Jackson stay too?"

Annabeth nodded, holding her hand up to indicate she'd be back in a moment, then she and Doug walked toward the front door together.

"Kid foiled your plans to have your way with me, didn't she?" he asked smiling, but his eyes never left her face.

"I'll be back in three days, maybe four," she said.

"Game for another trip when you get back?
 
To Atlanta, I mean."

Annabeth nodded.
 
She wondered then was he going to proposition her again or make a joke, but instead he reached down and kissed her, enfolding her in his arms tenderly.
 
She sank into his embrace, losing herself in the sweetness of his lips.
 
When he finally loosened his grasp, she reached up and touched his face tenderly, smiling deep into his eyes.

"Someone tried to make a little pass at me tonight," she confided, watching his eyes turn stormy.
 
"My head didn't even spin.
 
I just walked away.
 
I think I'm cured," she laughed.

"As long as you're not immune to me," he said.

"We'll see!"

His face a mask of mock indignation, Doug reached down and swatted her hard on the backside, the crackling of the sound muffled a bit by the velvet dress she wore. Annabeth gasped, causing him to laugh for a long time.
 
She looked at him openly, heat in her eyes, and he pressed her hard against the door, reaching down and kissing her with intensity and passion, and the flood of his longing flowed out of him and into her.
 
She swooned against him, her lips burning into his, then he let up, stepped back and smiled at her.

"Atlanta," he said, then he reached down and once more smacked her backside, causing her to lean limply against the door as he closed it behind him.

18

"I have a little errand to do.
 
You girls go on without me for a bit.
 
Okay?"
 
Annabeth, wearing a new outfit acquired that morning, grasped her portfolio in her hand.
 
"Just tell me where to meet you for lunch."

She had to stay calm.
 
She could do this.
 
If he hated the stuff, hated her, so what.
 
He was just some stranger, and she couldn't let him matter that much.
 
She knew the work was good; that was what mattered most.
 
Annabeth repeated these thoughts over and over to herself as she walked through the streets of New Orleans toward the gallery.
 
Sally and Laurel were shopping together in Saks.
 
Maybe with Laurel's discount they could get by without her spending every cent she'd saved so carefully for months and months.
 
And maybe….

"Excuse me," said Annabeth to the smiling salesgirl, "I'm looking for Mr. Paris Landry."

It was but a moment before she was face to face with the man who had so intimidated her over the telephone not so very long ago.
 
"Yes?" he said politely.

Annabeth handed him her portfolio.
 
"I'd like to show you my work if you have a minute.
 
I'm in town only a few days."
 
She held her gaze steady, meeting the critical look he gave her.

He was an attractive man, effeminate looking, with chiseled features and thick hair which was elegantly cut.
 
His tailored suit looked as though it had been made to measure, so perfectly did it hang on his frame.
 
He squinted toward her for a moment, but when she didn't back down, Landry reached for Annabeth's portfolio, unzipped it and started turning the pages, at first rather speedily, but as he saw the contents he slowed down until it seemed that he was taking overlong to scrutinize each photograph.
 
"Nice," he murmured now and then, "Charming," with greater enthusiasm, then when he got to the pages in the middle with the magazine spread, he shook his head, "I saw this layout.
 
It's lovely.
 
Wonderful, really."
 
He turned then toward the photos of the table and armoire in Annabeth's attic and stopped for a long while.
 
"These!" he exclaimed, "I have to have these.
 
Are they still available?"

Annabeth fought the urge to exclaim really, then said calmly, "They're personal pieces.
 
I hadn't really thought of selling them.
 
They're in Gull's Perch."

Landry's eyes lit up.
 
"I know at least two people who'd be interested in these right away.
 
And other pieces of furniture as well.
 
Like this…."
 
He flipped back to Laurel's apartment and pointed to a table and the window seat.
 
"Talk to me," he said, "Um, I don't even know your name.
 
I'm sorry."

"Annabeth Welner."

Landry reached out and shook her hand.
 
"Wonderful to meet you.
 
You will sell the table and armoire, won't you?"

Annabeth nodded slowly.
 
She could always make more.

"How much did you think of asking?
 
This is a wonderful gallery.
 
We buy outright, don't take things on consignment.
 
Much better for our artists."

Annabeth thought for a while.
 
What were they worth?
 
Those things cost probably fifty bucks twenty years ago.
 
She was about to say two hundred each when she thought clearly.
 
Two hundred was nothing.
 
And she didn't even really want to sell them.
 
Taking a deep breath, Annabeth said, "Twenty-five hundred each," and as Landry's eyes lit up, she added, "Plus transportation."
 

He nodded at her with respect and offered his hand.
 
"Probably easier if I arrange shipping."

"Yes, much."

"You know, I like these too."
 
He pointed to a collection of boxes with sliding lids--cigar boxes she'd reclaimed from the tobacco shop and painted.
 
"I'd take a dozen.
 
Say thirty each?"

"Okay, sure, but I can't get them to you right away.
 
Probably not until the end of February or the middle of March."

"No problem.
 
But I can have the two big pieces this week?"

Annabeth nodded then carefully spoke, "I'd need a deposit, though.
 
I'm seeing people at another gallery this weekend."

"I'm glad you came to us first."
 
Landry offered his hand one more time.
 
"In a year I could sell probably ten big pieces--tables, armoires, cabinets.
 
When do you think you might have more like that?"

"I'm not sure.
 
I'd have to find the piece first."

"Call me anytime.
 
You can always fax in a photo and we can decide on the spot."

Annabeth smiled.
 
"That's just great.
 
Thanks so much."

"Let me get you a check and a letter of agreement."

Annabeth sailed along, a check for over two thousand dollars in her purse.
 
Easy!
 
It had been easy!
 
She bowled him over!
 
Smiling to herself and chuckling from time to time, she walked toward the restaurant, stopping first at a fancy lingerie store. Atlanta.
 
She blushed for a moment, thinking of Doug and their upcoming trip.
 
Selecting a few items that seemed incredibly expensive, Annabeth walked into a luxurious dressing room and stripped.
 
First she tried a long blue nightgown, with the tiniest straps and a flair at the bottom.
 
It was perfect.
 
The matching robe was sheer floral, trimmed in the blue silk.
 
She selected another nightgown, a short poet's shirt type with a billowy lace ruffle along the plunging neckline.
 
In place of the no nonsense spandex bras she'd worn for years, Annabeth chose several lace designer bras with matching panties.
 
So beautiful.
 
So wicked!
 
She paid for her purchases, then swiftly moved toward the restaurant, her parcels in her hand.

"I sold that old armoire and dining table in the attic for five thousand dollars." she exclaimed to the girls as she took her seat at the table between them.

"Wow!" they said in unison.

They ordered simple lunches and sat talking in a relaxed way.

"I think I found the dress I want.
 
It's," and here Sally lowered her voice to reveal the price the way people do when they mention deadly illnesses.

"If only we still had gowns and I could get a discount," added Laurel.

"We'll get it right after we eat."
 
The waitress arrived then and set the food in front of them.
 
Annabeth, who had ordered lobster bisque and a salad, was given something she couldn't recognize.
 
"What's this?" she asked.

"Back bean soup," answered the server.

It looked delicious and Annabeth was about to shrug and try it, but she paused for a moment and realized she'd been shrugging off other people's mistakes all her life.
 
"I ordered lobster bisque."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said the waitress, who removed the soup and returned immediately with the right order.

The time passed quickly, and Annabeth enjoyed the shopping spree with her daughters.
 
Each time the thought of money would intrude, Annabeth reminded herself that although she seemed to be spending a lot, she'd really made a profit on the trip because of the sale of the furniture.
 

True to his word, Landry's truckers picked up the table and the armoire the day after Annabeth returned home, and they gave her a check for the balance of the sale.
 
She didn't have time to be sad or nostalgic at the loss of her treasures because the following day she and Doug were leaving for Atlanta.