Counterpointe by Ann Warner Read Free Book Online Page A

satisfaction. Well, today she’ll just have to wait on her exam while I redo your grant.”
     
    Rob was both surprised and relieved at Donna’s reaction. Surprised to learn Joyce hadn’t treated Donna particularly well; relieved to be able to count Donna on his side since she was more important to his day-to-day well-being than was Joyce.
     
    “Come back at two, and I’ll have it ready for you.”
     
    He went off to teach his class, hoping this wasn’t the opening salvo in a war, but suspecting it might be.
     

    Although Rob had arrived a few minutes early to take Clare sailing, she had been ready, with no resorting to dark circles or unkempt hair.
     
    “Are you always so prompt?” she asked as he held the car door for her.
     
    “I try to be. I hope it’s okay?”
     
    “Actually, it’s a quality I appreciate in a man.”
     
    “Is that on your checklist?” he asked, beginning to maneuver through the narrow Marblehead streets. “Punctuality?”
     
    “Checklist?”
     
    “For the perfect man. You’ve heard mine for the perfect woman—physically fit, excellent table manners, attentive to my every utterance. I thought you might be willing to share.”
     
    His tone was teasing but she sensed it was a serious question. She could blow him off, of course. Give him a stock answer, like the one they’d given each other to the how-come-you-never-married question. But he’d made her think. Did she have a checklist for the perfect man?
     
    Well, for starters, someone who wasn’t Zach. Zach who had been lacking in every way except one—his absolute passion for dance—and could she ever be involved with someone who had little or no interest in the ballet?
     
    “It’s okay.” Rob’s voice startled her. “You don’t have to share.”
     
    “I don’t mind sharing. It’s just not something I’ve thought about.”
     
    “I thought most women started working on their lists in kindergarten.”
     
    She shook her head, amused. “As a little girl, I guess I planned to marry a prince.”
     
    “You ever notice how princesses are mostly blonde but princes usually have black hair? Kind of makes a body wonder how royal families manage to defy genetics that way.”
     
    What an odd sense of humor he had. Because he was a scientist? Whatever the reason, he made her laugh more easily than...well, certainly more than Zach ever had.
     
    Rob fiddled with the knob on the car’s tape player. “I thought you’d get a kick of this.”
     
    The music had a lively beat, and the song, sung by a man with a slightly nasal voice, was “Margaritaville.”
     
    Oh, too funny. Maybe she should have accepted Rob’s suggestion they bring Mona along. “Jimmy Buffett, right?”
     
    “Are you a fan?” Rob sounded pleased.
     
    “Not exactly. But since Cincinnati considers itself Parrothead Central, exposure was unavoidable. How about you?”
     
    “Definitely a fan, although I draw the line at wearing a parrot on my head.”
     
    He played the rest of the tape, and by the time they reached Falmouth, they were both singing along, amply demonstrating that neither of them had been endowed with singing talent. It was the most silly fun Clare remembered having in a long time.
     
    When they arrived at the harbor, Rob pointed out his sister’s yacht. “She’s a forty-foot Morgan sloop. Jim bought her used, which is how he explains her name.”
     
    When Rob issued the invitation, Clare had pictured a tiny sailboat like the ones on the Charles River, so the Ariadne was a pleasant and welcome surprise.
     
    They motored out to the yacht in a Zodiac. Rob helped her aboard the stern and unlocked the door leading belowdecks. She descended the ladder-like steps to find herself in the main cabin. It was far roomier than she expected, the ceiling a comfortable height for even a six-footer like Rob. The bow area was closed off by a door. She slid it partially open to find a stateroom containing a queen-sized bed. She closed the