One Good Turn by Judith Arnold Read Free Book Online Page A

Art, and as she neared the regal white museum she spotted him sitting on the broad granite steps, gazing westward, searching the crowds. He had on a fresh-looking white shirt and casual khaki trousers, and his eyes squinted slightly as he stared in the direction of the descending sun. His bare forearms rested on his spread knees, and between his legs on the steps sat a huge wicker basket. He wasn’t wearing socks.
    Within a minute of her seeing him, he saw her. He stood, lifted the basket by its handle and descended the steps to the lawn, slowing only to let a sweaty jogger pass him on the unpaved path. “Hi,” he greeted her, smiling tentatively.
    He smelled of wild mint. He seemed to tower above her. His eyes were still that golden honey color, but today they were warm and sweet and translucent. Jenny had remembered him as good looking, but somehow she’d forgotten the visceral impact he’d had on her at the party. For a fleeting instant she pictured Sybil pointing to the top drawer of her dresser and saying, “Help yourself to my supply.”
    No. Jenny was not going to need Sybil’s supply. No matter how attractive she found Luke, she wasn’t going to sleep with him tonight. She understood intuitively that if a relationship were to develop between them it would be based not on sex but on something much more profound. And if nothing profound developed, she certainly wasn’t going to settle for sex.
    She returned his smile and then lowered her eyes to the oversized picnic basket. “Are we going to be joined by some other people?” she asked.
    He touched her elbow lightly, guiding her toward the Capitol building, and then let his hand fall as they strolled across the lawn. “No. Why do you ask?”
    “That basket looks much too big.”
    He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I asked them to pack it with an assortment of food.”
    “You asked
them
? Who’s
them
?”
    He shot her a quick, nervous look. “I ordered this from a caterer,” he said, his voice edged with contrition.
    She’d been expecting sandwiches and soda pop, not a catered feast. She was suddenly very glad she’d decided to wear a dress rather than the culottes she’d originally considered putting on after work. She was even more glad she’d dressed nicely when, upon deciding on a relatively out-of-the-way stretch of grass near the Capitol Reflecting Pool, Luke opened the basket to remove a red-checked linen table cloth, two wine glasses and a chilled bottle of Chardonnay. He deftly uncorked the bottle, filled the goblets, and handed them to Jenny to hold while he pulled from the basket doily-lined dishes of cold shrimp, Cajun chicken wings, sliced roast beef and Havarti, thick slabs of sourdough bread and wheat crackers, carrot sticks, celery stuffed with pate and florets of cauliflower and broccoli. And two red-checked linen napkins.
    “Oh, my,” Jenny said weakly.
    “You don’t like any of it, huh,” Luke guessed, although his eyes were twinkling.
    “I love all of it. I’m going to make a pig of myself.” Handing back his glass of wine, she helped herself to a stalk of celery. “This is heavenly, Luke,” she said after devouring it. “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble.”
    “I didn’t go to any trouble at all,” he insisted, uncapping a small tub of cocktail sauce and dipping a plump shrimp into it. “All I did was make a phone call and tell them to have something ready for a six-fifteen pick-up.”
    She accepted the shrimp he’d prepared for her and tasted it. It was fresh and succulent. She sighed with delight. “You
are
rich, aren’t you,” she blurted out.
    He seemed startled. “What?”
    She smiled contritely. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid tact isn’t my long suit.”
    “That’s okay,” he assured her. He fell silent, absorbing himself with the task of arranging a slice of roast beef on a piece of bread.
    She’d made him uncomfortable. She nibbled on her shrimp thoughtfully, trying to