“I’m two hours late.” He came toward her. “That’s why I called you. I wanted to tell you I was stopping to pick up Chinese.” He picked up her phone on the worktable and checked it. “It’s turned off.”
“It couldn’t be.” She frowned as she took the phone. He was right, it was turned off. “I must have hit the button by mistake.”
“That’s hard to do.” He was studying her. “You look … frazzled. And as if you’re not quite with me. Did you have lunch?”
She tried to remember.
“You didn’t.” Joe pulled her to her feet. “Breakfast?”
“I was going to fix toast and orange juice. But then I got busy.”
“I can see you did.” Joe was looking over his shoulder at the reconstruction as he pushed Eve toward the kitchen bar. He gave a low whistle. “Good God, you’ve already got those depth markers that look like voodoo sticks inserted on her. It usually takes you another day to get to that point.”
“Everything went smoothly. I had a little trouble with the orbital cavities but nothing major.”
“Evidently not. I’ve never seen your work go this quickly.”
Neither had Eve, she realized in sudden shock.
She stiffened, stopped short, and turned to look at Jenny.
As Joe had said, the depth markers looked like voodoo sticks.
Not only that, but she was almost done with the insertions. She was even further along than Joe knew to starting the actual sculpting.
There was no way she should be this far along.
Jenny, what are you doing to me?
No answer.
“Let’s get some food in you,” Joe said quietly. “I’ll get the plates.”
She nodded jerkily. “And I’ll go and clean up a little. I’m not exactly a presentable dinner partner.” She moved quickly down the hall toward the bathroom. “Five minutes, okay?”
Seconds later, she closed the bathroom door behind her and leaned back against it. Frazzled? The woman in the mirror definitely fit the word Joe had chosen. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair mussed, and she had a streak of clay on her throat.
And she had turned off her phone.
Forgotten about even minor sustenance.
And she had been driven to work like a proverbial demon to try to get that reconstruction finished.
Driven?
She was a workaholic, and she knew about driving herself.
This didn’t feel like that at all.
I believe we have to come to an understanding, Jenny.
And soon.
She stepped closer to the vanity and washed her face and hands thoroughly. She ran a comb through her hair, then turned out the light and opened the door.
“Better,” she told Joe as she started toward the kitchen. “But not perfect. That’s up to you and that Chinese dinner you brought home. I’m starving.”
*
“You were hungry.” Joe smiled as poured her coffee. “At least I’m not going to have to worry about your having an attack of malnutrition.”
“You’re not going to have to worry about me at all.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek before she jumped off the stool and gathered their plates and utensils. “You have your job, I have mine. Sometimes they both have a few weird quirks. We just accept them and go on. Right?”
“Weird quirks,” Joe repeated as he watched her put the plates in the dishwasher. “Odd phrasing. Would you care to elaborate?”
“Not at the moment. Perhaps after I’ve worked a few of them out.”
“Not accept, work them out. Opposites.” He gazed at her thoughtfully. “Do I sense a battle in the offing?”
“You sense a tired woman who is going to head for the shower, then go to bed.” She headed down the hall. “Care to join me?”
“Not going to work any more tonight?”
She stopped and looked at the reconstruction shimmering under the work light.
Waiting.
Dear God, she wanted to go back to work. The urge was so powerful, it was almost irresistible.
Almost.
“No.” She turned. “I’ve worked enough today. Tomorrow is soon enough.” She started down the hall. “Or maybe even the next day…”
*
She couldn’t sleep.
Eve lay there in the darkness, hearing Joe’s even breathing next to her.