Beauty And The Brain. Elizabeth Bevarly

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СКАЧАТЬ of which was driving together romantically two people who were normally at polar opposites.

      Yeah, that was it, she told herself. The comet might just be within range enough now to be putting everyone under its cosmic influence, herself included. It was entirely possible that Rosemary was simply succumbing to a galactic disturbance over which she had absolutely no control whatsoever. The reason she suddenly found Willis at the center of her romantic fantasies wasn’t that she was honestly attracted to him, but that she’d simply been pulled into the sphere of Bob’s influence.

      Yeah, that was it, she thought again. Maybe she could just blame the whole thing on Bob.

      Then again, maybe Bob had nothing to do with it, she thought irritably. Then again, maybe she was just developing a big ol’ whopping crush on Willis Random.

      She leaned forward until her forehead rested on the steering wheel, then slowly and methodically began to beat her head against it in an attempt to pound some sense into her brain. The only person on earth who genuinely despised her, and she might just have a crush on him. Surely there were twelve-step programs for women like her. Maybe she should look in the Yellow Pages.

      She stopped bashing her head against the steering wheel and looked up again, only to find that Willis was standing on her front porch watching her. She closed her eyes again, wondering if he’d witnessed her attempted self-inflicted lobotomy, then decided that the way things were going, he must have. Could her life possibly get any worse?

      It had to be Bob, she told herself, meeting his gaze as levelly as she could. Yeah, sure, Willis was a prime physical specimen of manhood these days, but he was still a big jerk. There was no way she would normally feel affection for such a man. No way would she fall in love with someone who would always make her feel small.

      Inhaling a fortifying breath, she opened her car door and unfolded herself from the front seat, then reached back in behind herself for her blazer. The September afternoon was warm, the sun hung high in the sky and Willis was looking at her with something truly hot and smoldering in his eyes. That look, more than anything else, she decided, was what caused the perspiration that suddenly seemed to be dampening her shirt.

      He was angry at her already, she thought. And she hadn’t even walked in the front door yet.

      “We have a problem,” he said by way of a greeting as she stepped up onto the front porch.

      He was just now realizing that? she wondered. Gee, she’d had that one figured out way back in tenth grade. Some genius he was. But aloud, she only said, “Oh? What’s that?”

      In response to her question, he frowned and jabbed a thumb angrily over his shoulder, toward the front door. Gingerly, Rosemary preceded him through it. Inside, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Sunlight filtered through the lace curtains on the bay windows, scattering rampant shadows over her grandmother’s hooked flowered rug and the antique furniture that was arranged exactly as it had been when Rosemary was a girl. Her cat, Ska, was curled up on the window seat in the shape of a Christmas ham, just as she always was this time of day, her silver-and-gray-and-black striped fur sleek and shiny.

      “What?” Rosemary asked when she saw nothing amiss.

      Willis pointed to the cat. “That.”

      Puzzled, she asked, “Are you allergic to cats?”

      He shook his head. “No, I’m not. That’s not the problem.”

      “Then what is?”

      “She is. She’s a bully.”

      Rosemary couldn’t help the ripple of laughter that escaped her. “Ska? A bully? Don’t be silly. She’s the sweetest creature on the face of the earth.”

      “Her name is Ska?” he asked, arching one brow in disbelief.

      As always, after two minutes in Willis’s presence, Rosemary zoomed from defensive to combative in a nanosecond. “Yeah. Her name is Ska. You wanna make something of it?”

      He shook his head. “I should have known. That was what you called that strange music you always listened to in high school.”

      She took a step forward and settled her hands on her hips in challenge. “I still listen to Ska bands. All the time. They’re coming back now, you know. You wanna make something of it?”

      Willis, too, advanced toward her, crowding her space. “No, I just want you to tell that animal to be a little nicer.”

      As if realizing she was the topic of the conversation, Ska woke up and blinked her eyes at the couple, then stood and stretched. With a final flexing of her claws, she leaped down to the floor, then sauntered over to Rosemary, entwining herself around her mistress’s legs with much affection. Rosemary picked her up and scratched her behind the ears, and Ska settled into a contented, rumbling purr.

      “I can’t believe you’re afraid of a sweet little kitty-cat,” she told Willis.

      Willis frowned at her. “I’m not afraid of her. He is.” He gestured behind himself, toward a ventilated cat carrier surrounded by some of the boxes that had come out of his big...his big...truck thing.

      “Who is?” she asked.

      “Isosceles.”

      Rosemary narrowed her eyes at him. “Excuse me?”

      He expelled an impatient sigh, then strode over to the carrier in question, flipped open the door and withdrew a huge, hulking white cat that claimed a gorgeous, sleek coat of fur. “This,” he told her, clutching the monstrous beast to his chest, “is Isosceles. My cat.”

      Now it was Rosemary’s turn to go on the offensive. “What the hell kind of name is ‘Isosceles’ for a cat? Don’t you realize that’s just asking all the other cats in the neighborhood to beat him up after school every day?”

      “It’s a perfectly appropriate name,” Willis countered. “Every time he sits down, he forms an exact isosceles triangle.”

      Rosemary arched her brows. “What did you do? Take out your compass and protractor and measure him yourself?”

      Willis gritted his teeth. “You don’t use a compass for measuring triangles,” he told her. “They’re for drawing accurate circles.”

      Rosemary felt her face flame, though whether in embarrassment or anger, she couldn’t have said. “So what?” she bit out defensively.

      He shook his head in annoyance. “So that...that...that bully you call a sweet little kitty-cat has been after Isosceles ever since I brought him inside the house.”

      “Well, duh,” Rosemary said. “Of course she has. This is Ska’s turf. She’s not going to just sit back and let some interloper overrun the place.” Unlike her gutless mistress, she thought further to herself.

      “Well, just tell her to back off and give Isosceles a chance, all right?”

      Rosemary gazed down at Ska, who looked back at her with a contented little smile. “Good girl,” she told the cat. “Don’t let that invading, know-it-all tomcat take over the ground you worked so hard to gain. Now go out there and make me proud.”

      With a quick kiss to the cat’s СКАЧАТЬ