Free Reaction by Jessica Roberts Page B

salads?” Creed looked at Liz, then across the table to the others.
    Paige’s face remained even. “Yes, that sounds nice. I’ll grab some fruit for you, babe.” She gave a love-squeeze to Nick’s bicep.
    “Yeah, let’s go,” Liz answered Creed. “I’m famished!”
    The salad bar—apparently an Architectural Department tradition supplied by a famous local restaurant known for their salads—was across the ballroom on a sidewall. Nick and I had both never been big salad bar fans. Evidently neither was Peter, and he also stayed behind as the group left.
    At first impression, she wasn’t Nick’s type at all. She was stuffy, tame, she drank, she passed on the rolls, of course, and she liked salad bars. And she was blonde! I broke off a piece of bread and put it in my mouth. It tasted like paper. After a few difficult chews, I couldn’t hold back my thoughts any longer. And besides, it was an honest question.
    “I thought you preferred brunettes.” The comment was childish. I knew it even before I heard Peter’s muffled laugh. My adrenalin was in complete overdrive at the moment, apparently taking control of my mouth. And I’d become so accustomed to speaking my mind to him, I couldn’t just squelch the habit overnight.
    He only frowned at me as if to say, ‘Grow up’.
    Still, within his frown, I practically fell apart at the way he stared at me. Because he was staring at me. Because his face was stunning, even when it glowered. But mostly because the look drew me beneath his beauty; to that part of him I loved the most.
    After forcing down my bread with a large gulp of water, I made myself apologize. “She’s pretty,” I admitted, shoving the words out. I should have had the strength to stop there; or if only the salad bar line wasn’t so long and they had returned sooner, or why couldn’t Peter butt in when he was supposed to? But none of that happened and out came, “If only her nose wasn’t so off-center.”
    I couldn’t believe I’d said it. Where had it come from? It was awful of me. I was the worst sort of person. And I could only imagine the look on Nick’s face. I avoided it for as long as possible, eventually unable to stop myself from glancing across the table. He raised a questioning eyebrow at me, and then began rubbing the back of his head. Peter’s head was also down, but I didn’t have to see his face to know he was shaking with laughter.
    The table rustled as the group returned from the salad bar. Paige gazed at Nick with a mildly puzzled look as both he and Peter cleared their throats. Peter must have had trouble schooling his features because his face was flushed but blank when it came up.
    I shrugged off Liz’s questioning glance and promised with my face that I’d fill her in later on the bad-formed remark she’d missed.
    “I was just telling Creed about the project you and I are working on,” the older gentleman spoke toward Nick while resting his salad on the table and adjusting the black cocktail napkin under his drink. The man then addressed the table at large. “A commercial construction company here in St. Louis has been commissioned by the state to renovate four dozen strip-malls throughout Missouri. And two of Nick’s designs were chosen for the project.”
    “Jackson Enterprise Construction?” Peter asked Nick.
    “Gateway,” Nick responded, a touch belatedly.
    “It’s a tremendous undertaking,” the gentleman went on. “But the end in mind is to transform the old decomposed buildings found in downtown areas of smaller cities, into fresh modern styles. A mini face-lift to the state, so-to-speak.”
    “And not soon enough,” Paige added. “It’s high time we do something about the lower class areas around here. The smaller towns in Missouri are such eyesores.” Her next comment was addressed to the gentleman and his wife. “Did you know that some households in the farming areas don’t even have flushable toilets? Can you imagine?”
    Nick