“I wouldn’t have before I moved here,” Gen said. “Cambria is special.”
“It is at that. Here, have one of these muffins. Breanna made them.”
“Mmm.” Banana walnut. Gen’s favorite.
Chapter Ten
“My ass is sore,” Gen complained to Lacy later that day, after she’d closed the gallery. She was sitting uncomfortably on one of the barstools at Jitters, drinking her third and last coffee of the day. Any more than that, and she’d be wide awake at one a.m. watching cat GIFs on Facebook. “I’d never been on a horse before in my life. How do people do it for more than a half-hour at a time?”
“Ass calluses?” Lacy suggested. She was bustling around behind the counter, an apron around her waist, making espresso and steaming milk. She managed to keep up her end of the conversation effortlessly while turning out hot beverages for the modest crowd in the coffee shop.
“Ryan’s ass must be like steel by now,” Gen said. “Oh, God.”
“ ‘Oh God’ what?”
“Just thinking about Ryan’s ass.”
Lacy grinned at her. “It is a nice one.”
Gen plucked a napkin from a nearby dispenser and started tearing it into tiny pieces. A little furrow formed between her eyebrows. “He makes me all gooey and stupid. Which is ridiculous, because he’s not interested in me.”
“What if he were?”
“What do you mean?”
“Gen.” Lacy reached over the counter and put a hand on Gen’s, stilling them. “Put down that poor napkin and focus.”
Gen did.
“What if he felt the same way about you that you do about him, and sparks were flying everywhere, and you two were crazy in love, with animated birds and kittens and unicorns and all of that crap?”
“I could go for that,” Gen offered.
“Yeah. You could go for it right up until you leave for New York. Which is what you’ve said you plan to do. Ryan’s not going anywhere. His family has been on that land for 170 years. What are you going to do, have a long-distance relationship while you’re three thousand miles apart?”
It surprised Gen that she hadn’t thought of it that way. Why hadn’t she? She knew she was planning to leave, and she knew Ryan never would.
“No. I guess I haven’t considered the realities, because it isn’t real. There’s nothing there. It’s just a fantasy. And that’s all it’s ever going to be.”
“Well … I wouldn’t count on that.”
Gen’s head snapped up and she looked at Lacy.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “You never know, that’s all. You just never know.”
When Gordon Kendrick wasn’t grousing about the yogurt, he was bitching about something else. Less than a week after he’d moved into the guest cottage on the Delaney Ranch, he was on the phone with Gen, complaining that the bed linens weren’t organic, and that had caused an unsightly rash on the tender flesh of his thighs. Gen didn’t want to think about Gordon Kendrick’s thighs.
“I have sensitivities to environmental toxins,” Kendrick was going on. Gen had him on speakerphone in the gallery, and she was bustling about, doing her usual tasks, while he groused.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Gen said as she sorted bills and perused her e-mail.
“Yes, well. It’s difficult to be productive, from an artistic standpoint, when my system is out of sorts.”
“Because of the inorganic sheets,” Gen continued.
“Among other things.”
She wondered about the other things. What was he going to ask for next? A personal acupuncturist? An aromatherapy consultant?
“Well, you’re unlikely to find organic sheets in Cambria, since we lack a major department store,” she said, keeping her voice even. “But maybe if you drive into San Luis Obispo …”
“I don’t have a car at my disposal.”
Gen sighed and rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I can arrange for a rental car for you. Or, if you prefer, you can order the sheets online.”
Kate came through the front door of the gallery at that moment, and Gen gestured with her fist behind her head, throwing her head to the side and sticking her tongue out, in a mime of hanging herself.
“I had really hoped that you would attend to such things for me,” Kendrick went on over the speaker. “The whole point of a retreat such as this is that I should be able to focus on my work exclusively.”
“Mr. Kendrick …”
“Distractions like this … procuring bed linens and rental cars and the like … I don’t know how I’m supposed to work at my full potential.” His voice sounded whiny and petulant.
“Oh, miss? Miss?” Kate broke in. “How much is this painting? Miss?”
Gen smirked at her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kendrick, but I have a guest in the gallery. Can we finish this conversation later?”
“Well, I …” Kendrick began.
“Miss! I want to buy several very expensive paintings but I’m in a terrible hurry!” Kate said.
“I’ll be right with you!” Gen said. “Mr. Kendrick, I have to hang up now. I’ll talk to you soon! You take care! Goodbye!” She punched the button to disconnect the phone and slumped against her desk in exaggerated exhaustion.
“God,” Gen said.
“That guy sounds like a real asshole,” Kate observed.
“You have no idea.”
Kate was carrying a small paper sack and two to-go cups of coffee. “I went to the donut place,” she said.
“Donuts?” Gen’s eyebrows rose. She didn’t usually eat junk food like donuts, but she’d skipped breakfast and her stomach was growling.
“Don’t worry. Donuts for me, an egg white wrap for you.”
“Oh, bless you. You’re a doll. I’m starving.”
Kate spread the food out on Gen’s desk and took a seat in her visitor’s chair while Gen settled in behind the desk. It was still early—before ten a.m.—and the gallery was empty.
“So, how’s married life?” Gen asked, taking the cover off of her coffee and taking a sip.
Kate snorted. “I’m hardly married.”
“You might as well be. I mean, you’ve got to pick up his dirty underwear. That’s like marriage. There’s dirty underwear, right? I’m assuming.”
“He mostly deals with his own dirty underwear.”
“Well, thank God for that.”
Kate broke off a piece of chocolate donut and popped it into her mouth. “It’s good. Really good. I’d thought it would be hard—the adjustment—but it just feels … right.”
“Oh, honey. That’s great.”
“Jackson is just … he’s everything Marcus wasn’t. He lets me be me. He …” She’d started tearing up, and she wiped at her eyes. “Oh, jeez. Look at me.” She let out a breathy laugh.
“That’s wonderful, Kate. I mean it.” And she did. While Gen had dealt with a lot of feelings when Jackson had moved into the house, she had to admit that her friend was practically glowing with happiness these days. She loved Kate, and so she loved Jackson, too, for making Kate feel this way.
If there was still a nagging feeling eating at her—a feeling that she wanted what Kate had but was worried that it might never happen—well, that was her own issue to deal with and it wasn’t something she should put on Kate.