Page 25 of The Player

Damn me for wanting what’s bad for me.

Chapter Eleven

Nicole had spent the last hour in her studio with a palette knife, trying to get the light right on the red umbrella in her painting. Under it, a woman in a saffron sari was crossing a street still wet from the rain, and Nicole had built her out of thick strokes of orange, brown, gold, and blue. Most nights, she could stand in front of that canvas for hours and never notice the time. Tonight, she kept looking at the cordless phone she’d brought from her bedroom and set on her worktable, like wanting it to ring might actually make it happen.

When it finally did, she dropped the palette knife onto her worktable and grabbed the phone before the first ring ended.

“Hello?” Her heart was beating like crazy, and she could hear the hope in her own voice. Damn. Way to play it cool.

“Hey, Nicole. It’s Cedric.”

“Oh. Hey.” Nicole hoped he couldn’t hear how disappointed she was. That wasn’t fair to him.

With the phone to her ear, she went to the window and leaned against the frame. The light was on over the back door, and she could see the little deck and some of the grass, but past that, the yard was dark all the way to the trees. A few minutes of small talk brought them around to Saturday.

“I made reservations at Berman’s. Seven o’clock. Have you ever been?”

“Yes, actually. It’s a really nice place.” Her mother had taken her and Bailey there after helping them settle into their house. It was the kind of place where you dressed up and nobody blinked at a fifty-dollar entrée. It had all kinds of awards and a name people dropped when they were trying to impress you.

“Only the best for you,” he said. That was Cedric. Back when they were together, he spoiled her every chance he got.

“Aw, that’s sweet of you.” A call-waiting beep sounded in her ear. “Hey, Cedric. I’m sorry, hold on one second. Someone’s calling on the other line.”

Nicole clicked over before he could get a word out. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Drew.”

Nicole tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, wriggled out of her smock, and hurried into her bedroom, where she fell back against the pillows, grinning. Thank God nobody was around to see it. She was supposed to still be mad at him, but he’d called, and right then, that was all she cared about.

“Hey. How are you?”

“Chillin’. So . . . that guy today. Ced, right? He’s the ex?”

“Cedric. And yeah, he’s the ex.” Crap. Cedric was still on the other line. “Hey, hold on one second, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Nicole clicked over. “Cedric? I’m so sorry, but I have to take this.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ll see you Saturday. Seven o’clock.”

“I’ll pick you up at six. The reservation’s for seven, remember?”

“Right. My bad. I’ll see you at six.”

Their goodbyes were quick, mostly because she hustled him off the phone, and she wasn’t exactly proud of that. Once Cedric was gone, Nicole settled deeper into the pillows. “Sorry about that. I’m back.”

“Was that him?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you two back together?”

“No.”

“But you’re thinking about it?”