In His Wildest Dreams. Debbi RawlinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
her. She said you’d know what that meant.”
“Oh, no.” Brenda set aside a jar of garlic salt, her expression crestfallen. “I can’t believe this. Did she sound really upset?”
“Kind of matter-of-fact, I guess.” He rooted around a lower cabinet until he found a large pot. When he stood, Brenda hadn’t moved, her expression still troubled. “Who is this woman?”
“A friend.”
“That much I figured out.”
“I mean a really good friend. She’s saved my butt a couple of times during midterms. She’s incredibly together, kind of like I want to be when I grow up.”
“Like that’s ever going to happen.”
That got him a tiny smile. “Look who’s talking.” Then she looked bummed again.
“Hey, cheer up. Your friend will figure it out.”
“Yeah, I know. It just doesn’t seem fair. Her thesis is on dream interpretation, and she’s been working hard at it for over a year now.”
“Ah, another one of your perpetual student friends.”
“Knock it off, Nick. Emma’s different. Things haven’t been easy for her. She doesn’t have parents who paid her tuition. She was on partial scholarship and had to take out a student loan, plus she works part-time as a waitress and as a teaching assistant for Professor Lyster.”
Nick yawned.
“Sometimes you’re a jerk.”
“What? It’s my fault Grandmother’s trust fund paid our tuition? I didn’t hear you complaining.”
Brenda glared at him. “You could show some compassion.”
“For God’s sake, lots of people put themselves through school. What’s the big deal?”
“Yeah, but Emma’s different. She’s had to work twice as hard because of a learning disability she had as a child.”
He stuck the pot under the tap and started to fill it with water. “How much am I supposed to put in here?”
When she didn’t answer, he turned to find her staring out of the window, totally lost in thought. Her chin-length dark hair hid most of her face but he could tell by the slump in her posture she was really upset.
He turned off the water. “Hey, Bren, why don’t we go out for Chinese, or maybe Italian this time? My treat.”
She shook her head and gave him a wan smile. “Nah, I don’t feel like it.” She went back to preparing the chicken. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Ah, hell. Rotten timing. Of course Nick didn’t think Brenda would have a problem with doing him this small favor, especially since she’d been too busy studying the past few years to use the family ski house, but still. “I need the Aspen place for Thanksgiving.”
A small frown drew her brows together. “It’s my turn to have it this year, right?”
He didn’t like the way her interest suddenly piqued. “You’re not planning on using it.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” She had that lost-in-thought look again. It made him nervous.
“You haven’t been there in five years. You don’t even like to ski.”
“But it’s nice and quiet out there. An excellent place to unwind, study, whatever.”
“It’s quiet here.”
She glanced at him with that faintly amused look again. “What’s the deal? You promised some sweet young thing you’d take her skiing in Aspen?”
“So?”
“So, too bad. It’s my turn to have the house. You should have checked with me first.”
He muttered a curse. “Bren, come on.”
“Sorry, Nick, I really am.” She did look apologetic, as though she wasn’t going to give in. Dammit. “But I do need it this year.”
“Bull. You hadn’t even remembered it was your turn.”
“I know, but this thing with Emma…”
Oh, man, there was that apologetic expression again. “What does this Emma have to do with it?” He paused, struck by inspiration. “If you think she might be upset, shouldn’t you stick around and comfort her? You are her friend.” He tried to look sincere and concerned. Too bad Bren knew him too well.
Her look of disdain made him sigh. “Why don’t you rent another place?” she asked, turning back to cutting up the chicken.
“Are you kidding? Everything’s booked by now.” He took a long pull of his beer, annoyed that everything had gotten complicated. “Hey, how about I rent you a place? Anywhere you want. Jamaica? St. Thomas? You and your friend can soak up the sun and study to your heart’s content.”
She pursed her lips, drummed her fingers on the counter. Good. Obviously she was thinking about it. “I have another solution.”
“Okay.” He started to relax.
“You can be Emma’s subject.”
“What?”
“You let her study you for the next two weeks and the house is yours.”
“That’s no solution, that’s blackmail.”
“Suit yourself.” She shrugged and turned back to the cutting board, but not before he saw the beginning of a grin.
“Study me? Like figure out what’s going on in my subconscious?”
“Not exactly. You simply relay your dreams to her and she analyzes them, and then compiles the data for her thesis.”
“Using a bunch of psychobabble.” He snorted. “That is so not going to happen.”
She shrugged again, the stubborn glint in her eye all too familiar. She meant business.
“What if I find someone else?”
“Nope. You’re perfect for the study. You can fall asleep in a heartbeat and you’re good at recalling your dreams. Besides, she needs someone yesterday.”
“Oh, man.” He abandoned the pot and sat at the kitchen table. “I can’t just drop everything for the next two weeks.”
She laughed. “Like what? Playing tennis, or maybe having dinner with your girlfriend du jour?”
He sighed with disgust.
“Like I said, suit yourself.”
“How many hours a day does this thing take?”
“You’ll have to talk to Emma about that.”
He narrowed his gaze in suspicion. “You aren’t trying to fix me up with her, are you?”
“Oh, God no. Emma’s much too good for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Just let me know if I should call and tell her to expect you.”
“You realize this is blackmail.”
Brenda smiled. “I call it a trade.”
He got up, muttering a few choice words as he headed out of the kitchen.
“What about dinner?”
“I don’t have time. Call your friend. Tell her she’s got a new sucker.”
Brenda waited until he was out of sight and then pumped her hand in the air. “Yes!”
She did a little victory dance around the kitchen table, and then headed for the Mickey Mouse phone Nick had given