The Art of Deception (Choc Lit) by Liz Harris Read Free Book Online Page B

think that just because he’d offered her a job he’d start to look at her in a romantic way. And if he didn’t, it’d be so much easier for her to keep her focus.
    A thought suddenly hit her, and she felt a sharp stab of panic. If he did have a girlfriend, she might be planning to join him at some point over the summer. It wasn’t something he would have mentioned at the interview in London – his plans for the summer were none of her business – but just in case a girlfriend was coming out, it was all the more urgent that she develop a friendship with him as quickly as possible.
    Inspiration struck.
    ‘You’re right,’ she said with a bright smile. ‘Art classes are much more suitable for this location than cookery would have been. But you’re wrong about something you said earlier, or rather you’re wrong about something you implied.’
    He looked at her in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘ You said that you didn’t have any ability for art.’
    ‘ Well, I haven’t – I’m absolutely hopeless at drawing and painting, and trust me that’s an understatement.’
    ‘ But you could learn to paint. It’s a myth that you’ve either got talent or you haven’t – everyone can be taught. After that, it’s just hard work.’
    ‘ Do you really believe that?’
    ‘ I know it’s true. I’ve seen people start an art class without a clue which end of the brush to hold. And I’ve watched them work hard, lesson after lesson, until in the end they’re absolutely amazed at what they’ve achieved.’
    ‘ Thinking of my past efforts, I find that virtually impossible to believe,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘I’m afraid I’m still inclined to subscribe to the natural ability theory: I’m the living proof of that.’
    ‘ So put it to the test,’ she said lightly, trying not to show how much she wanted him to agree. ‘Come along to some of my classes and see how you get on. Stephen’s going to join us; you could come over with him. There’s more than enough equipment for an extra artist.’
    She held her breath.
    ‘I might just do that,’ he said slowly. ‘You’ve got me thinking now. It could be fun, and after all, what have I got to lose? You know, you may just have got yourself another pupil.’
    She let her breath out slowly. If Max came to the classes, she’d see a lot more of him. It was a start, but no more than that, as the others would be there, too. She must keep on thinking. What she really needed was quality time alone with him, which meant she’d have to come up with a way of getting him by himself.
    She glanced at him, at t he planes of his face, which gleamed like burnished gold in the rays thrown out by the dying sun.
    Her mind went into overdrive . Then, bingo – inspiration struck again. She had an idea, and if she got it right, Max might pick up the threads and make the suggestion she wanted …
    ‘ You know you ignored all advice and chose art over cookery,’ she said, injecting a bouncing lilt into her voice, ‘for purely selfish reasons, I’m very glad you did.’
    ‘ For selfish reasons? Now that’s intriguing.’ He looked amused, she was pleased to see.
    ‘ Yes, definitely for selfish reasons. I wouldn’t be here if you’d plumped for cookery, would I? I make a mean omelette, but I’d be hard pushed to stretch that skill for a whole week. Day one, find bowl; day two, remove three eggs from beneath nearest chicken; day three, break said eggs into bowl. And so on.’
    He laughed. ‘You’ve got a point there. Yes, I think I might have expected a little more for my money, both as an employer and as a punter. Now, if you’d been able to make tagliatelle al tartufo , in addition to making an omelette, then we could have been in business.’
    A bolt of excitement shot through her . She could build on this. ‘That’s your favourite dish, is it?’
    ‘ Indeed it is.’
    She sighed loudly. ‘Sadly, that’s not in my repertoire: truffles don’t abound in