Authors: Sandi Perry
"You're
my
favorite
female,"
he
smiled
at
her
winningly.
"Don't
let
Mom
chew
your
ear
off."
"Don't
worry,
I've
got
it
covered.
You
just
enjoy
your
night."
She
looked
around
the
room
at
all
the
industry
leaders
and
felt
so
happy
for
him.
She
sat
at
a
table
filled
with
well-wishers.
Everyone
loved
Kenyon.
Would I even be able to fill a table if
I were to receive an award
,
she
wondered.
She
knew
the
answer,
even
though
she
was
reluctant
to
admit
it.
Alex,
Kenyon,
Emily,
her
mother,
they'd
all
been
pushing
her
for
weeks,
now
to
let
down
her
defenses
and
let
life
happen
to
her.
She
reached
up
to
wipe
away
the
lone
tear
that
threatened
to
ruin
her
carefully
applied
make-up.
She
stood
up
and
applauded
the
loudest
as
Ken
walked
up
to
the
podium
to
receive
his
award.
The
next
day
dawned
early.
Allison
hadn't
been
able
to
sleep
when
she'd
gotten
home
from
the
dinner
the
night
before
and
had
put
in
lot
of
time
sketching
in
her
loft.
She
had
finished
the
charcoal
of
Kaitlin
and
had
some
thoughts
about
how
to
proceed
with
the
oil.
She
shuddered
to
think
about
the
awkward
few
minutes
when
Michael
would
bring
her
by
in
a
couple
of
hours.
Why
did
he
bring
her
in
anyway?
She
was
almost
a
teenager;
surely,
she
could
walk
up
the
steps
herself
after
the
driver
dropped
her
off.
She
felt
a
fresh
surge
of
irritation
toward
Michael
Essex
and
hoped
he
had
sense
enough
to
realize
his
attentions
toward
her
were
unwanted.
She
had
downed
three
cups
of
coffee
by
noon
and
was
a
jittery
mess
when
her
doorbell
rang.
She
buzzed
them
in
and
was
surprised
when
only
Michael
showed
up.
He
marched
straight
through
the
door
she
held
open.
"Kaitlin
is
sick;
she
won't
be
able
to
keep
her
appointment,"
he
said.
"Seriously?"
she
asked.
"Allison,
I
have
been
called
many
things;
but
a
liar
is
not
one
of
them,"
he
admonished
softly.
"I
didn't
mean
to
imply
that
you
were
lying,
it
just
seems
unnecessary
to
me
that
you
came
here
anyway.
Kaitlin
could
have
just
called
me
to
cancel."
"She
has
laryngitis,"
he
said.
"I
see,"
she
said
with
her
arms
folded,
"and
this
has
nothing
to
do
with
last
night?"
His
look
pierced
her,
"You
told
me
off,
at
least
you
tried
to—I
didn't
really
give
you
the
opportunity
to
speak
your
piece.
Please,"
he
waved
his
hand
at
her
as
he
sat
down,
"'let
me
have
it."
"I'm
not
going
to
do
that.
It
isn't
important
anymore."
"But
it
is...I
seem
to
be
stepping
on
a
lot
of
toes
lately
with
regard
to
the
females
in
my
life.
I
need
to
understand
what
I'm
doing
wrong."
She
took
a
deep
breath,
"You
need
to
listen,
for
starters.
You're
intimidating...tut,
tut,"
she
wagged
her
finger
at
him,
"no
interrupting.
That's
number
two.
You
have
a
bad
habit
of
doing
that.
I
don't
know
if
that's
a
tactic
or
the
impatient
reaction
of
a
man
whose
mind
works
at
lightning
speed
and
is
on
to
the
next
thought
before
the
conversation
is
through.
And
thirdly,
and
most
important
of
all:
women
like
to
be
heard.
They
will
use
their
friends
as
a
sounding
board,
and
if
they
are
involved
with
a
man,
or
considering
becoming
involved
with
him,
they
want
their
voice
to
be
recognized
and
respected
by
him."
He
looked
at
her
silently
for
a
minute,
"That's
a
lot
to
consider.
It
seems
I
have
been
doing
many
things
wrong,
according
to
your
scale.
Kaitlin
and
I
had
a
big
row
last
night
before
I
left
for
the
dinner.
By
the
way,
your
friend
is
a
terrifically
talented
young
man;
he's
doing
a
bang
up
job
on
my
summer
home.
But
back
to
the
fight,
Kaitlin
was
invited
to
a
party
and
was
all
dressed
up
to
go,
and
I
forbade
her."
"You
forbade
her?
That
sounds
a
little
1950,
don't
you
think?"
"Well,
she
looked
so
beautiful,
half
child/half
woman.
I
panicked.
She
has
laryngitis
now
because
she
lost
her
voice
yelling;
and
she's
actually
just
sick
of
me,"
he
said
sheepishly.