in the face again. “My mind was just wandering. That’s all.”
“To Shane,” Ronnie said. She nodded sagely. “Interesting.”
“Excuse me? What are you talking about?”
“Admit it,” Ronnie retorted, “you were thinking about Shane when I came up. That explains that little catch in your voice.”
“There was no—”
Ronnie shut her up with a wave of her hand.
“Fine. I was thinking about Shane,” Ella admitted. “My best friend is packing up and moving fifteen hundred miles away from me. I’ve been thinking about him a lot.” As soon as she spoke the words, relief flooded her. Of course! That’s why she’d been lusting after Shane. It was so simple, any Psych 101 student would see it: she’d been feeling frustrated and angry when she couldn’t beg and plead and force Shane to stay in New York with her. So her subconscious was coming up with alternative methods of persuasion—seduction.
It wasn’t lust. It was selfishness. Her id wanted Shane to stay in New York. Her psyche wanted its best friend.
What a relief. And thank goodness she’d taken that psych course, or she might never have realized the source of that absurd daydream. She and Shane, doing it like that. Doing it at all. The idea was ridiculous. Unthinkable.
And so damned appealing.
No! She sat up straighter, determined to keep her thoughts in check. “I’m just bummed that he’s leaving,” she said firmly. “That’s all.”
The teasing expression on Ronnie’s face was replaced by one of genuine understanding. “I know, kid. He said he was heading out on Monday. You must be terribly sorry to see him go.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I’ll really miss him.”
A beat, and Ella held her breath, wondering if Ronnie was going to shift the conversation back to erotica. Wondering even more if Ronnie was going to push for a more full description of Ella’s recent fantasies.
But Ronnie simply nodded toward the exit. “Let’s get a coffee. I have some news about your internship application.”
And right then all thoughts of Shane evaporated. Ronnie had come here to talk about Ella’s career, not her libido. And work was the one thing that never failed to snare Ella’s full and complete attention.
ELLA STARED AT RONNIE over her coffee, not quite sure she comprehended what her friend was saying.
“I really got it? The internship at the Metropolitan Museum?”
Ronnie laughed and twirled the spoon in her coffee. “You really got it. I bumped into Dean Rostow earlier and he mentioned that he was going to tell you on Monday. I begged a little, and since I wrote one of your recommendation letters, he said I could go ahead and tell you if I saw you.” Her smile widened. “So I’ve been searching the library for hours trying desperately to locate you.”
“Thank you!” Ella flung her arms out across the table to hug her friend. The internship at the Metropolitan Museum—working directly with the curator—was both coveted and incredibly hard to obtain. Ella had been cultivating relationships, hoping for recommendations, since she’d been a freshman undergrad. She almost couldn’t believe that her persistence had paid off.
“Why not?” Ronnie asked when Ella voiced the thought. “You worked much harder than all the other applicants. Why shouldn’t it be you?”
“I don’t know.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I guess I still have a hard time believing how great everything has gone for me these past couple of years.”
Ronnie’s smile was kind. “Why shouldn’t it go well? You work your tail off, don’t you?”
“Hell, yes,” Ella said. She nodded, the motion somehow boosting her confidence. “I deserve this, don’t I?” Maybe life had been more difficult back in Texas, but that was why she’d left, right? So she could get away from the sorry life she’d had there and find a satisfying existence. She’d done it and she should be proud. And she was.
Ronnie put a hand over hers and squeezed, teacher and friend. “You totally deserve it.”
“Wow.” Ella shook her head, still not quite able to process the information. “Do you have any idea how good a stint like this is going to look on my résumé?”
Internships were highly competitive and depended significantly on who you knew. Ella’s grades were stellar, but this was her first year in the program, which meant she was low on the totem pole. But that hadn’t daunted her. She’d had her heart set on two internships since she’d entered the program—one for each summer of her master’s studies. The field was extremely competitive. With two internships, her odds of finding a job that was both financially and emotionally rewarding increased significantly.
The ironic part, of course, was that her mother had given her that bit of advice. As far as love, care and support went, Cecilia Davenport fell flat as a mother. But for career planning? Well, that was where Ella’s mom truly shined.
She took a deep breath and laughed again, still overwhelmed by her good fortune. “Sorry. I’m just so excited. This is huge. I mean, an internship like this could lead to a job. Can you imagine? Working at the Metropolitan Museum fresh out of school?”
“If anyone can do it, you can. You’re the most motivated student I’ve seen in a long time.”
“You’re just saying that because I make great margaritas.”
“You’re from Texas—you’re supposed to be able to make all variety of drinks from tequila. And I’m not saying it because you ply me with alcohol. I’m saying that because it’s true.” She cocked her head and studied Ella. “Speaking of alcohol…we haven’t had a wild night on the town in months. Probably since you and Tony started dating. But I guess you two have been having your own wild times.”
“Yeah. Absolutely.” She frowned and took a long swallow of her now-tepid coffee, ignoring the guilt and telling herself it was a fib, not a lie, and she didn’t have to reveal all her personal details just because Ronnie was a good friend.
The truth was, she and Tony hadn’t had sex in two weeks. During the workweek, their schedules never seemed to mesh, and the past weekend they’d gone out to his parents’. Ella had stayed up so late playing Trivial Pursuit with Tony’s father and sisters that Tony had already been asleep in bed by the time she’d gotten back to their room. She’d thought about waking him but decided he needed the rest.
No more. Tired or not, he was going to have to come over the second he got off the plane from Los Angeles. And she’d even put on something sexy, like that itchy lacy thing he’d bought her for her birthday. She hated the thing, but she knew it would turn him on, and—
“Ella?”
She shook her head, pulling herself back into the conversation with a bright smile. “I guess both you and I have been having our wild times at home. That’s the way it’s supposed to be for you, right? After all, you’re married now.”
At that Ronnie laughed. “Jack doesn’t mind if I go out drinking with the girls.”
