Part 161 (2/2)

and the contact she'd made at Rolling Stone would approve of the shots

she'd taken of Devastation in the recording studio.

She was scrounging in the refrigerator for something more interesting

than molding bologna when she heard the elevator open. ”I hope you

bought supplies,” she called out. ”We're getting down to science

projects in here.”

”Sorry.”

Emma whipped around at Blackpool's voice. ”I thought you were

Marianne.”

”No. She gave me a key.” He smiled easily, holding it up before tucking

it into his jeans. ”I'd have stopped by the deli if I'd known I'd find

a hungry woman.”

”Marianne's at cla.s.s.” Emma checked her watch. ”She should be back

soon.”

”I've got time.” He swung into the kitchen to peer over her shoulder.

Emma s.h.i.+fted away automatically. ”Pathetic,” he decided, but helped

himself to the imported beer Mariannd kept stocked for him. There was a

bra.s.s opener screwed into the wall. He popped the top, then studied

her.

She'd scooped her hair on top of her head to keep it out of the way

while she worked. At his scrutiny, she became aware that her jeans were

too tight and her T-s.h.i.+rt too big. She dragged at it as it slipped off

one shoulder.

”I'm sorry I can't offer you anything else.”

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