His Work of Art (5 page)

“Sure.”

She stood and stretched, going all the way on tiptoe and reaching her arms above her head. Her shirt rose, revealing smooth skin on her waist and before he could avert his eyes, she bent over and slapped her hands on the floor. The girl was damn flexible.

On her way into the kitchen, she turned off the overhead light. The room wasn't plunged into darkness because of the glow from the kitchen, but Adam felt a little uncomfortable. That was the kind of move he'd make if he were on a date. Was that what she thought this was?

Adam wrestled with how to tell her that he didn't want this to be a date. Dating would definitely mess up their new partnership. Which would ruin her project and her grade. Definitely better to keep it platonic. Plus, he knew that relationships between people with their differences had a shaky record at best.

But when she came back into the room, she carried two bowls of popcorn and a couple cans of pop. No romantic sharing of food. He'd misread the situation. He mentally slapped himself and stood to help her.

They returned to their respective spots on the couch and Reese restarted the movie without saying anything.

Adam settled back into the comfort of the film and forgot about what he'd believed was Reese flirting with him. Yeah, she was cute, but he saw cute girls all the time. He didn't walk around thinking they were all hitting on him. Reese was being friendly.

Near the end of the movie, a
thump
sounded at the door, and as Reese moved to stand, it swung open. It had to be Reese's mom because they looked a lot alike. The woman was older and wore hospital scrubs. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she looked exhausted. “Christ, Reese, I keep telling you to leave a light on for me so I don't trip over any of your crap.”

Shifting the bag she had in one hand, she slapped against the wall and flooded the room with bright light. Adam squinted.

Reese paused the movie again. “Hey, Mom.” She stood and pointed at Adam. “This is Adam. He came over to work on my comic. Adam, this is my mom, Linda.”

He bristled a little at the reference to the comic being
hers
. At this point, it was definitely
theirs
.

“Oh” was the only response her mother made.

Adam knew that look. In spite of it, he stood to shake her hand. “It's nice to meet you.”

“You too.” She shook his hand and forced a tight smile. At least she didn't look afraid or disgusted. In the past, those were emotions he'd witnessed. It was like
Uh-oh. A black man is in my living room.

Adam edged away. Linda dropped her bag on the table across the room and disappeared around the corner, closing a door behind her.

“I should probably be leaving.”

“What? The movie's almost over.”

He looked across the room to where her mom had walked.

Reese waved a hand. “She's going to take a shower and then probably crash. She just worked a double shift.”

“Is she a nurse?”

“CNA. They had a bunch of cutbacks at the hospital and the only way for her to keep her job is to work like two people.”

“That sucks.” He grabbed his bag and made sure everything he needed for the comic was there.

“Seriously. You can stay. She doesn't care.”

He set his bag at his feet. “She looked like she cared. And if she's tired, she doesn't want a stranger in her house while she's trying to sleep.”

Reese laughed. “My mom doesn't mind. She sleeps through everything. Come on. Let's finish. You can help me with your witty commentary.”

He stared at her for a minute. She really had no idea that her mom was uncomfortable. Could she be that clueless? He thought back to their conversation about race and knew that, yeah, she kind of was that clueless. She grabbed his arm and shoved him back toward the couch.

She started the movie again with a smile on her face. He sat and half-focused on the TV. Part of his brain cued in on the sounds behind him: doors opening and closing, water running, quiet music.

By the time the credits hit the screen, he was exhausted. He stood and stretched. “Did you get enough for your paper?”

“Yeah, I think so. This was a good idea. Do you mind if I keep the movie in case I want to rewatch to fill in stuff?”

“No problem.”

“I'll bring it in on Wednesday when I stop by to get my order.”

“No hurry.”

He pulled on his coat and swung his bag on his shoulder.

“When do you think you'll have those pages done so we can talk about inking them?” She followed him to the door with her hands shoved in her pants pockets.

“We have a really big shipment Wednesday, so I'll probably be pulling orders all day. How's Thursday?”

“No good for me.” She bit her lip. “Friday night? I'm off work at seven.”

“Okay. You just want me to bring your books then?”

“Heck, no. I want to gobble them up as soon as they come in. I'll be there as usual on Wednesday.”

“Same Bat-time, same Bat-channel?”

“You know it.”

Adam walked out of her apartment and breathed in a lungful of cold air. Everything about Reese unsettled him, and he needed to get it under control. He needed to focus on finishing school and getting work. He didn't have time to start any relationship, much less a complicated one.

A
dam worked on little sleep for days. When he wasn't in class, he was driven to draw Lyrid's story. By Wednesday morning, he was ready to mainline coffee. As much as he wanted to stay in bed, he couldn't because his mom needed help with the delivery and pull lists like she did every week. At some point, they would have to hire a replacement for him; he had no intention of continuing to help his mom run the store after graduation.

With any luck, this would be his last winter in Chicago. Even if he didn't get his dream job at Marvel in California, he'd move wherever he had to in order to illustrate comics. He sat at the kitchen table and gulped coffee. Hunter walked in wearing only his boxers.

“Aren't you cold?” Adam huddled over the steam from his cup.

“Nope.” He reached in the cabinet for a box of cereal. He shoved his hand in and when he pulled out a fistful of flakes, more scattered on the floor. “Shit.” He pushed the flakes in in his mouth before bending over to pick up the mess.

That was Hunter. Man of few words. Unless a woman was involved. Then he always had plenty to say. When he straightened and dumped the crumbs in the trash, he looked at Adam. “I've barely seen you for days. What the hell has you so busy?”

“A project.”

“Figures.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“When you go with no sleep for days, it's supposed to be because you're fucking your brains out and you have all the energy in the world. This”—he pointed at Adam—“is sad.”

“Some of us have bigger goals than to play music and get laid.”

“Those aren't my only goals.” He smirked. “Just my primary ones.” He plopped on the chair across from Adam, laying the box of cereal on its side in front of him. “So what's the project?”

“This girl I know, Reese, is trying to publish an anthology of comics as her senior project. She asked me to illustrate for her.”

“So it is a woman keeping you up.”

“Not like that.”

“Only because you're lame. Why the hell would you do that much work if you're not getting laid?”

“It'll be a publishing credit and if it sells, I'll make money. It'll also look good in my portfolio when I search for a job.” He finished his coffee and refilled the cup. If he drank fast, he could finish it before heading to the store and the caffeine might be just enough.

“Sometimes it's good to step back and not be so driven.”

“Says the king slacker.”

Hunter shook his head. “Do you have a date for the party yet?”

“I told you I probably wouldn't. Between school and work, when do I have time to meet anyone?”

“Yeah, the work situation sucks. Hard to meet beautiful women when you're surrounded by geeks and loners.”

But he'd met Reese at the shop. He almost opened his mouth to say that to Hunter but caught the mistake before letting loose. As much as he wanted to prove Hunter wrong about the quality of their customers, he didn't want to invite him to know about Reese.

“Why don't you come by the bar on Friday? I'll hook you up with some chicks.”

The thought of who Hunter might find for him was a little frightening. “Sorry. Busy Friday night.”

“Busy with what?”

“Working on the comics.” He stood and dumped his cup in the sink. Under his feet, cereal flakes crunched into dust. “Sweep the damn floor. This is gross.”

“Whatever. Ask your comic lover if she has a friend. Someone needs to find you a date.”

Adam left the room without answering. He didn't need anyone, Hunter or Reese, to find him a date. From his room, he heard Hunter yell, “No date means I start making calls to fill the apartment with strangers. We had a deal. Maybe a flyer up at the bar.”

Crap. That sounded exactly like something Hunter would do. Adam wouldn't care if Hunter invited people from the jazz club he worked at a few nights a month, but he was talking about a flyer at the grunge bar where he regularly worked.

Their New Year's Eve party had begun four years ago, when they got their first apartment together. Adam longed to go back to those days. A few friends, some drinks, Hunter playing music. Last year, their party could've rivaled a rave. If he wanted to prevent that from happening, he needed to prove to Hunter that he could get his own date.

Hours later, Adam's back was killing him as he hauled another box to the front of the store to pull orders while manning the register. His mom had opened the store that morning and received the inventory. Now she was off doing whatever business stuff he knew she did, but didn't care enough about to learn the specifics. He filled the pull lists, happy to note there were three new ones this week.

Their customer base was growing, which eased his worry about his mom. He'd saved Reese's order for last without thought. Maybe because he knew she wouldn't be in until late in the afternoon, or maybe it was because he could slide her comics in a bag and think about the look on her face when she sat on her couch to read them that night. Or maybe she read in bed. Since he hadn't seen her bedroom, he couldn't picture that, but what he could imagine clearly was the spark in her eyes when she opened her issue of
Batgirl
.

She had an unnatural love of bats.

When the last comic was tucked in her bag and all the boxes tossed out back, Adam finally sank onto the stool by the register. He didn't even have enough energy to open a book to read. His phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from Reese:

His brain was so sleep-deprived that he had no idea how long he sat in a zombie-like state waiting for Reese. She barreled through the door like she always did, bringing a blast of cold air with her. Watching Reese move was always interesting. Head down, long strides, moving quickly like a woman on a mission. But while in the store, she was the opposite. She meandered down the aisle and browsed through things she would never want to read.

As soon as she was mid-store, she looked up and a smile blasted across her face. Then she held up a gigantic cup of coffee. He could kiss her. The thought brought unwanted images to his mind. It was an expression. He didn't need to think about acting on that. It was the lack of sleep and the promise of good caffeine tossing him off balance.

She handed him the cup. “You look like crap.”

He took a long drink before responding. “I've been working a lot. I have the sketches done.”

“Already? I thought we were meeting Friday.”

“We can. If this looks good, we can move on to the next book. You said we have a tight timeline.” Another drink. It was smooth and rich and about as perfect as a cup of coffee could be. “What is in this stuff?”

“A special mixture. I'm thinking of calling it the Goddess Blend. That way I can have men falling at my feet all day.” She tapped her gloved hands on the glass counter. “Well? Let's see them.”

Right. He was supposed to show her the finished artwork. He tilted his head toward his desk. “I inked and colored the first page. I couldn't help myself. I really wanted to see it in color. But I used a copy, so no worries.”

She ran ahead of him, taking off her gloves in the process. Sitting on his stool, she studied the pages. By the third page, her eyes were teary.

Damn. He thought he'd nailed it this time. Reese set the pages on the desk and jumped up. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Thank you. It's perfect.”

Huh? This woman did nothing but confuse him. He stood, not reciprocating the hug and unsure of what to do with his hands. “You like it?”

She stepped back, obviously feeling his awkwardness. “It's exactly what I imagined and couldn't describe. The way you show Alexis's fear, the noise in the background, the subtle changes on the first page that you did in color. It's amazing. I knew you were the right guy for the job.” Her eyes had cleared and she smiled at him. “Did you think I'd hate it?”

“You did look upset.”

She smacked his arm. “You dummy. I'm a girl. Sometimes I get emotional.” Then she rolled her eyes before sitting back on the stool.

Adam went back to the counter to drink his coffee while she looked at the pages. “When do I get the rest of the stories? If this was the shortest, like you were thinking, I need to plan for how many hours of work I'll need.”

“You have the next one. I just need to revise it based on having her origin done. You know, fewer flashbacks and stuff. I'll have more time to explore the subplot for that book as well as engage the overarching plot.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I could probably introduce the mentor in the next issue.”

Nothing like a little prompting to go with his afternoon coffee.

She set the pages back on the desk and hopped off the stool. “Come on, Cap'n. You know your guy is perfect as Lyrid's mentor.”

“I'll consider it if you promise to stop calling me that.”

She took off her jacket and laid it on the stool, the sleeves dragging on the floor. He picked it up and hung it on a hook on the storeroom door.

“What, no witty response?”

“I like my nickname for you. I can pretend it refers to Captain America.”

He crossed his arms. “That's a bullshit play on words. We both know you'll be thinking about Captain Atom and that's . . . awful. People don't even like him. Other superheroes don't trust him.”

“Only in the latest versions. He's a military guy and you have that look to you. All stiff and quiet. And serious. All. The. Time.”

“I am not serious all the time.”

She waved him off. “Deal. If it bothers you that much, I won't use the name anymore.”

Damn. He hadn't counted on her agreeing. She enjoyed making him crazy too much. Did he just sign away his latest creation?

Reese extended her hand. “Your hero is now a mentor.”

He took her hand because he didn't know how not to. In his gut, he knew Lyrid needed a mentor, someone to guide her. His gaze locked on Reese's light blue eyes. A strange tension filled the space between them.

Her hand lingered in his a little longer than was polite. Or maybe that was his grasp being late to let go.

Adam slid his palm from hers. “He needs a name. We can't keep calling him my guy. That'll start to take on a whole new connotation.”

“Let's start building the rest of his backstory, get him a job, fill in the spaces. A name will come to us.” She gathered the pages and restacked them neatly. Her fingertips traced over the top image of Alexis.

That moment filled him with the confidence that he'd chosen the right career for himself. He belonged doing this. He wanted to reach readers the way the greats had reached him: through story and art.

He stared at Reese while she stared at his art.

“Hey, I'm back,” his mom called from the door.

Both he and Reese turned to her voice, like being startled from a dream. If his face looked anything like Reese's, his mom would think they'd been making out on the counter, except they'd been across the room from each other.

“What's going on here?” she asked.

“Hi, Bonnie. It's been a while.”

“Bonnie? You know my mom?”

Reese slid from the stool. This was the moment of truth. Would she have a reaction like her mother did? Would she comment on his mom being white, while he clearly was not?

“Well, I didn't know she was your mom, but I know her. I have been in here before, you know. Did you think I only came in to see your ugly mug?”

His mom laughed and tugged off her coat.

Reese spun back to face him. “You totally have her smile. I should've seen it before.”

Mom walked by to hang up her coat, still chuckling.

Adam stood with his mouth hanging open. Not only did Reese not have a reaction to his mom, but she didn't even offer up the usual incorrect assumption:
I didn't know you were adopted
. It was like the thought never entered her mind.

“Oh boy, Bonnie. I think I might've really hurt his feelings. He's quieter than usual.” Reese waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello . . .”

He swatted at her flailing palm. “Please. I was busy thinking. We don't have time to compare smiles.”

His mom came over and kissed his cheek. “What are you two doing?”