Free Picture This by Jayne Denker

to call Vic and ask him for time off . . . I don’t even know how long I’m going to be gone . . .”
    â€œYou mean it’s going to take longer than just this weekend?” Niall couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice.
    Celia actually smiled, though her eyes were watery. “Gran’s pretty darn stubborn.”
    â€œImagine that.”
    â€œWhat are you implying?”
    â€œNothing! Nothing. I am saying absolutely nothing about certain traits running in the family. So . . . Vic’s okay with it, right?”
    She shrugged. “He told me not to expect him to hold my job for me if I’m gone for more than a week.”
    â€œDick.”
    â€œHe’s got a business to run.”
    â€œWhat did you tell him?”
    â€œThat if there wasn’t a job for me at his place when I got back, I’d get a better job as a leg model.”
    Niall laughed heartily. “Atta girl.” After a moment’s silence, during which Niall realized he still had his hands on her shoulders, felt awkward, removed them, and realized he felt more awkward as he wondered what to do with his hands, he offered, “Want me to call Vic, have him hold your job?”
    â€œI don’t want you pulling strings for me. What happens, happens, you know?”
    â€œI know. So what happens now ?”
    â€œI have a bus to catch, I guess. I’m really sorry, Niall. I was looking forward to our . . . to us . . . you know. Coffee,” she finished awkwardly.
    â€œIt’s a shame, I’m not gonna lie,” he said. “I even got the silver chariot out of storage for you.”
    He gestured toward the curb, and she looked around him. “Oh my God. What is that?”
    â€œHey now, don’t insult my Stinger.”
    â€œYour what?”
    â€œThat, woman, is a vintage, highly desirable 1974 Corvette Stingray 427.”
    He loved this car. It was long, it was low, it had bizarre, swoopy lines like a kiddie roller coaster. It was everything ridiculous about the seventies packaged into fifteen tacky feet of vehicle. It was the most impractical thing he could possibly drive.
    It was one of the first indulgence items he’d bought when he had his first hit film and realized he didn’t have to worry about his bank account balance any longer.
    Celia’s lips clamped together and all she let through them was a skeptical, “Okay. And what were you intending to do with that . . . thing?”
    â€œI thought we could go for a drive, but now . . . Hey,” he exclaimed, “let me take you to Port Authority.”
    â€œIt’s easier to take the subway.”
    â€œYeah, but when was the last time you rode in such a classic machine, huh? I swear, five minutes in the passenger seat, and you’ll fall in love with it.”
    â€œI’m not sure I want to be seen in that, er, classic .”
    â€œWell, maybe it doesn’t want you to ride in it. You’d better get in, see if Sting likes you. He might not, you know.” Niall picked up her suitcase and carried it down the steps for her.
    â€œI thought all cars were girls.”
    He smiled to himself when he realized she was following without any further argument. “This car’s all male. Wait’ll you hear the muscle under the hood.”
    Niall stuffed her bag in the space behind the two seats then stood back, holding open the passenger door.
    Celia raised one prettily shaped eyebrow as she gingerly climbed in and sat down—way down. “Um . . . this is interesting.”
    â€œI think the word you’re looking for is ‘spiritually transcendent.’ ”
    â€œThat’s two words.”
    â€œDon’t quibble, woman.”
    â€œI don’t know. It looks like, you know, something a guy would drive to compensate for something else.”
    â€œIs that all women think when they see a hot sports car? Because I’ll have you know it’s not true in the