“About the divorce.”
“No, he didn’t mention it.” Relief crawled through Sweeney at being able to say something that was totally, one hundred percent true. She wasn’t good at this subterfuge stuff, even though everything she had said was accurate in letter, if not in spirit.
“I didn’t really think he would, he’s so damn discreet.” The words sounded bitter. Candra paused again. “I noticed when we were in the gallery, he barely took his eyes off you.”
The uncomfortable feeling intensified as it inched like a worm up Sweeney’s back. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to get caught in the middle during their divorce. All she wanted was to forget she had been bushwhacked by some malfunctioning hormones and for a moment responded to his attractiveness.
“He’s been so damn careful since we separated that if he’s had any lovers, I haven’t been able to find out about it,” Candra continued. “When I saw the way he watched you yesterday . . . well, I was curious.”
Yeah, sure. There was definite bitterness there, Sweeney thought. And she definitely wanted to end this conversation. “Maybe there haven’t been any.”
Candra laughed. “What, Richard go without sex? Not likely. Anyway, what I wanted to say is, if you and Richard have something going, I wouldn’t mind. We’ve been separated for almost a year, so of course I’ve gotten on with my life. I’ve met someone I’m very fond of, and he’s far more comfortable to be with than Richard ever was.”
Sweeney couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. Thank you was out of the question. Why on earth would Candra call about this, anyway? Was she concerned that if Sweeney actually did begin seeing Richard, she would try to find another art dealer to handle her sales? That didn’t make sense, because Sweeney had no illusions about her worth to Candra; the gallery handled artists who made a lot more sales than she. No, this call was prompted by sheer nosiness, the curious inability of estranged couples to let go even though they were embroiled in the legal surgery that would sever them.
Well, she didn’t want any part of it. She shivered and reached for a blanket to wrap around her while she tried to think of a way to tiptoe through this conversational minefield. But a response seemed called for, so at last she said, “I hope you’ll be very happy.” There! That was innocuous enough.
Candra laughed, and sounded genuinely amused. “Oh, I doubt this is anything permanent. Life’s too short and too full of men to chance making another mistake. But I admit I was hoping Richard was interested in you.”
“What?” The word was faint with surprise.
Candra laughed again. “Don’t sound so shocked. I don’t care if he has a lover, or ten lovers. I don’t hate him; I don’t wish him ill. I just want him to stop being so stubborn about the settlement so we can be finished with this and move on. If he were interested in someone, he might want to get the divorce finalized and out of the way so he would be free. I know Richard, I know how he is when he focuses on one woman.” For a moment Candra’s voice softened, warmed with memory, and then she gave a little chuckle. “I had some very good times.”
Sweeney almost said Richard had asked her out. She wanted to ask exactly how good a time Richard showed a woman. For a moment the words lay on her tongue like ball bearings, ready to roll out. Caution made her swallow them. She had turned Richard down, so there was no point now in putting herself in the middle of this situation. Nor did she want to exchange girly talk on how good a lover Richard was, not that she knew or had any intention of knowing. She couldn’t bear any more of this weird conversation, so she subtly changed the subject.
“I thought I would bring some new pieces to the gallery.” Then she grimaced; damn, why had she blurted that out? Why couldn’t she have come up with something else? She didn’t want anyone to see the mess her work had turned into.
Candra laughed. “Enough of Richard, huh?” She shifted into business mode. “I’d love to see your new work. I’ve been so worried about you; you haven’t been producing the way you were before.”
“Oh, I’ve been producing,” Sweeney muttered.
“I know, you think it’s crap. I admit, I’ve been consumed by curiosity, but I didn’t want to push you. When can you bring them by? I want to be certain I’m here.”
She was committed, damn it. She glanced out the window to check the weather. “If it doesn’t start raining again, how about this afternoon?”
“Wonderful. I don’t have any appointments, so I’ll be here. See you then.”
Sweeney hung up the phone, then hugged the blanket tighter around her. Damn it, damn it, damn it. This was it, then. She had to take some canvases in, let someone else see them. She cringed at the thought, but at least now she would know if what she was doing was awful, or salable. This uncertainty about her work was dreadful, paralyzing.
She shivered violently and swore under her breath. Damn, why couldn’t she get warm?
* * *
Candra stretched to hang up the phone, then lay with her head pillowed on her arms. A large warm hand stroked her naked bottom. “No luck, huh?” Kai said. “I told you.” He bent to press kisses down her spine, more interested in his libido than her financial worries.
Normally she loved having sex with Kai. He was young enough to still be obsessed with sex, but old enough to have acquired some skill. There was a certain freedom in being with him, because he was so innately self-centered she had no qualms about focusing totally on herself, which intensified her pleasure. Now, however, she felt annoyed that he couldn’t seem to grasp how important it was that Richard stop being such a hard-ass about the divorce settlement. She shrugged away from his kisses and buried her face in the pillow.