Mr. Imperfect

chapter 45



September

At last. Rori didn’t want to confess that she had been counting the days until Mike got on a flight in Salt Lake that would drop him off in New York, but she had been. Just like she’d counted the hours of his flight and obsessed over getting a town car there in time. A town car that seemed to be taking it’s time delivering the man to her doorstep.

She should have just picked Mike up at the airport herself. It would have saved her half a day of staring at the clock and drying her hands on her pants. So gross. But nerves were nerves, and as rational as she tried to be about his visit, her body had its own agenda. It hadn’t wanted to send a car to pick him up while she stayed at the school and taught. It had wanted to show up with the car and used the drive back to the museum to acquaint herself with his body.

But civilized people didn’t do that. And people in New York didn’t go pick up visitors at the airport. They sent cars. It was a very New York thing to do. Respectful and thoughtful without coming across as an anxious girlfriend who couldn’t stand to wait one second longer than necessary to see her man.

Yes, Rori was planning on sleeping with Mike, but she still had to maintain some boundaries to avoid sending the wrong signals. She couldn’t forget that in the end she would be with Anton. Mike Cannon was just her last hurrah before settling down… or he would be if he ever got there. He’d landed over two hours ago. Rori knew. She’d been checking the updates religiously.

Two hours. That was more than enough time to find the town car and get into the city from JFK. He’d even mentioned that he was FedExing his equipment and only bringing a carryon so there was no reason for him to be caught up with any luggage issues.

So, again, where the hell was he?

An hour of drawing time remained and most of the students were focusing in the details of their sketches. The model’s generous breasts, flared hips, and flawless skin made her an good subject. What made her a great model was the self awareness and self love so apparent in her shameless eyes. She knew she didn’t have the body shape that was considered sexy by glamour magazines. And she clearly did not give a shit. The glint in her eye all but said, Find every flaw you want. It doesn’t change the fact that I can make you see God anytime I feel like it.

The best models were always the ones who loved their bodies. Angelica was one of those rare few who fit in that category.

Rori made another round to observe the progress of the students. No one merited interruption. Like any artist with a willing muse, they were focused on depicting what had caught their attention. Some were focused in on one body part, others concentrating on the holistic impression of the woman. One of her favorite students had focused in on the soft slope of Angelica’s generous hips and curvy thighs in an angled profile. It maintained pure modesty while also capturing the unabashed sensuality of the woman.

“Excellent,” she murmured as she saw the student add the last shading details. This student had an obvious gift with realism but a passion for the abstract. His in-class work was phenomenal, but his original works ignored the skill he had honed and had frustrated, angry auras about them. Yet another tortured artist. Brilliance anchored by emotional torment. The combination was so common, it was a cliché.

Moving to the next student, Rori fought the urge to frown. Impassive. That’s what she needed to be. Just like she was with Mike.

Where was the idiot? He had no excuse to be lost and she knew he and the driver had found each other, since that was the last time he’d texted her.

Two hours ago.

She should just leave the class and get to the bottom of everything. It was where her head was at anyway. Her students wouldn’t care. Fredrik wouldn’t care. She was the only one who cared, which was the exact reason Rori had to stay right where she was and see the class through to the end.

Because if she didn’t, everyone would know she cared. And that would be bad, indeed.



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