Free Some Like it Easy by Heather Long Page A

around us? It becomes so much background noise…in the present.”
    “All right, I find you more than a little hot right now.” Penny laughed and forced her attention to his assignment. She was supposed to be reading. He said nothing in response, but he didn’t have to. His words haunted her as she dove into his paper. The investment in rebuilding post-war Europe saved it from utter collapse and fostered relationships that continued into the present. The same could not be said for the collapse of the Eastern Bloc following the end of the Cold War.
    How can one make reparations for a war not fought with bombs or bullets, but ideals and dreams? The failure of western economics is to identify and quantify the value of a people so used to living with a foot at their throat. The response to such freedoms, or the lack thereof, will manifest in one of two ways—insane growth or the need to find a new oppressor to fill the void of absolute power.
    Freedom is more than an investment. Freedom remains a field needing plowed, tended, harvested and, yes, sometimes left fallow so the soil can rest before it becomes rich and fertile once more.
    Okay, the man was downright swoonworthy. Or at least his words were. “I take it back,” she said, still reading.
    “Take what back?”
    “The part about finding you a little hot.”
    “Oh?”
    Glancing at him, she nodded. “You’re insanely hot to me right now. You can really write.” Not only that—amidst the poetry of his argument, he included facts and figures to support his contention. And it made sense.
    Awareness slid over her and she stole another peek to find him staring at her. Her lips tingled, remembering his earlier kiss. Nothing prepared her for the contact or her swift response. He’d barely given her any time to appreciate him before ending it. So many reasons why this is a bad idea…
    “Thank you.” He sounded so polite and formal. She curled her toes into the carpet. The last thing they needed was an affair. His brother. Her sister. They were totally different. They wanted different things.
    But he was pretty. He had the dark-eyes-smoldering look down. From what she’d seen scattered through the news, he was fit and trim beneath his clothes. Handsome, intelligent—remembering Mallory, she added sweet and thoughtful to the list. Big signs reading Warning! and Danger! should be flashing through her mind.
    “You’re welcome.” Forcing her attention back to the computer screen, she finished reading his paper. She added a couple of notations, but they had to do with formulas he’d cited—formulas she didn’t understand until she read his explanations, so maybe her notes wouldn’t be useful. When she finished, she traded his laptop for hers. “It’s good…and it made sense, which I think should count for something.”
    Homework. Not hot guy. “Indeed, I am grateful to hear it. While I disagreed with your premise, I must admit you made a compelling argument for the benefits of despotism in the development of the arts.”
    Talk about a cold bucket of water on her interest. “Despotism? I’m not endorsing despotism.”
    “Of course you are, and you are entitled to your opinion. You’re an artist. A patron would provide you with the ability and platform to pursue your heart’s desire without worries about finances. However, a patron could also be considered a master. You’d have to surrender some of your rights to achieve your dreams, creating per their preferences rather than to the tune of your art. A trade-off, to be certain.”
    Penny wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want a master.”
    “No?” But something about the way he pronounced the word left her tummy tightening.
    “No,” she said firmly and flipped open her laptop. He’d left copious notes on her paper—well-thought-out, interesting notes. In some, he’d even offered a counterargument on the case of Michaelangelo’s victimization by the Medicis. Somehow, his notes detracted from the