her it was a low-risk operation. The fact was, a girl like her, a woman with intense blue eyes and heat boiling just under the surface, wasn't going to be capable of having a casual relationship. She'd get burned without even realizing there was a fire.
She ordered halibut sautéed with asparagus tips. He went for the oyster burger. Then, afterward, when they walked back out to his car, he managed to hold the door open for her without watching her legs as she slid into the car. Then he punched the stereo once he'd started the engine, looking for a distraction.
Nina Simone singing the blues.
So far, so good. Now, if he could just keep the dance a public event and stay out of dark corners, they'd both get through the night safely.
Claire felt the band's music before she heard it, a pulsing vibration in the air surrounding the hall. Someone grabbed Blake's arm as they came through the entrance, and he smiled an apology at her and mouthed, "Be with you in a minute."
She shrugged and went on inside. A big hall filled with last night's strangers, people she supposedly knew but had never really talked to.
The man who appeared at her side looked vaguely familiar, like so many of the people around her.
"Claire, isn't it?"
"Don," she said, remembering his name and trying to remember whether Blake had said he was a probation officer or a social worker. "How are you?"
"Better than I was a minute ago. Could I talk you into a dance?"
She looked back and saw Blake still entangled with the man who'd stopped him at the door.
"All right, but I'll warn you, I've never danced much."
"I thought you were going to turn me down." He had a nice smile, and when they began to dance, she found him an undemanding partner.
"I met one of your clients today at Blake's shipyard."
"Blake? Oh, you mean Mac? I'm hoping you're going to tell me you met Jake there, but it's probably Tim."
"They were both there, painting green preservative onto the hull of a boat."
Don executed an impressive turn that she managed to follow. "That's good news. Jake's got a court appearance coming up soon, and it was beginning to look as if no one would be able to come up with a good reason for giving the kid a break. Guess I should have known Mac would turn the trick."
"Is that what happened with Tim?"
"You should have seen Tim two years ago. I suppose you saw the tattoos, but that was the least of it." The music stopped and Don asked, "Shall we go another round? We're not doing badly here."
"All right," she agreed. He was, she thought, a nice man. A comfortable man. "Have there been others, besides Tim and Jake?"
"Quite a few. It started, I guess, about seven years ago. Mac and Stenners, up at the high school. They got together and set up a wilderness camp for troubled kids. Mac figured if you could get a kid when he was just edging into trouble, take him out on a boat and make him face nature and high seas, teach him to eat off the sea, he'd find himself."
"And it worked?"
"That—the nature excursions—and the fact that Mac was willing to take some of the kids on at the shipyard, putting his money where his mouth was, so to speak. The kids listen to him. He's tough on them, but they respect him for it. They know he cares about them, and they know they can't con him because he's been there. If it weren't for James Denver, Mac figures he'd probably have ended up as a career criminal—or dead."
"Do you think it's true?" She knew she shouldn't be probing this way, that she had no right to the information Don was giving her. She asked anyway, because she was going to have an affair with Blake McKenzie. A brief affair, but while it lasted, she wanted to know everything she could, because once the week was over she'd never learn any more, never see him again.
Unless she came back.
No, she thought. Coming back wouldn't be wise.
He noticed the moment she began dancing with Don. He saw them meet, saw her step into Don's arms. Blake figured she didn't know
She ordered halibut sautéed with asparagus tips. He went for the oyster burger. Then, afterward, when they walked back out to his car, he managed to hold the door open for her without watching her legs as she slid into the car. Then he punched the stereo once he'd started the engine, looking for a distraction.
Nina Simone singing the blues.
So far, so good. Now, if he could just keep the dance a public event and stay out of dark corners, they'd both get through the night safely.
Claire felt the band's music before she heard it, a pulsing vibration in the air surrounding the hall. Someone grabbed Blake's arm as they came through the entrance, and he smiled an apology at her and mouthed, "Be with you in a minute."
She shrugged and went on inside. A big hall filled with last night's strangers, people she supposedly knew but had never really talked to.
The man who appeared at her side looked vaguely familiar, like so many of the people around her.
"Claire, isn't it?"
"Don," she said, remembering his name and trying to remember whether Blake had said he was a probation officer or a social worker. "How are you?"
"Better than I was a minute ago. Could I talk you into a dance?"
She looked back and saw Blake still entangled with the man who'd stopped him at the door.
"All right, but I'll warn you, I've never danced much."
"I thought you were going to turn me down." He had a nice smile, and when they began to dance, she found him an undemanding partner.
"I met one of your clients today at Blake's shipyard."
"Blake? Oh, you mean Mac? I'm hoping you're going to tell me you met Jake there, but it's probably Tim."
"They were both there, painting green preservative onto the hull of a boat."
Don executed an impressive turn that she managed to follow. "That's good news. Jake's got a court appearance coming up soon, and it was beginning to look as if no one would be able to come up with a good reason for giving the kid a break. Guess I should have known Mac would turn the trick."
"Is that what happened with Tim?"
"You should have seen Tim two years ago. I suppose you saw the tattoos, but that was the least of it." The music stopped and Don asked, "Shall we go another round? We're not doing badly here."
"All right," she agreed. He was, she thought, a nice man. A comfortable man. "Have there been others, besides Tim and Jake?"
"Quite a few. It started, I guess, about seven years ago. Mac and Stenners, up at the high school. They got together and set up a wilderness camp for troubled kids. Mac figured if you could get a kid when he was just edging into trouble, take him out on a boat and make him face nature and high seas, teach him to eat off the sea, he'd find himself."
"And it worked?"
"That—the nature excursions—and the fact that Mac was willing to take some of the kids on at the shipyard, putting his money where his mouth was, so to speak. The kids listen to him. He's tough on them, but they respect him for it. They know he cares about them, and they know they can't con him because he's been there. If it weren't for James Denver, Mac figures he'd probably have ended up as a career criminal—or dead."
"Do you think it's true?" She knew she shouldn't be probing this way, that she had no right to the information Don was giving her. She asked anyway, because she was going to have an affair with Blake McKenzie. A brief affair, but while it lasted, she wanted to know everything she could, because once the week was over she'd never learn any more, never see him again.
Unless she came back.
No, she thought. Coming back wouldn't be wise.
He noticed the moment she began dancing with Don. He saw them meet, saw her step into Don's arms. Blake figured she didn't know
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