A Real Basket Case Read Online Free PDF Page A

said.
    He hefted his bag and smiled. “The massage oil is in here.”
    A nervous flutter tickled Claire’s throat, and she cleared it before saying, “Fine.” She preceded him into the kitchen and took her gym bag into the adjoining laundry room.
    Enrique shucked off his jacket and looked around, as if wondering where to put it and his gym bag.
    “I’ll take those,” she said.
    “I will need the bag later, but here.” He handed her his jacket and put the bag on the floor.
    Claire hung Enrique’s jacket along with her own in the hall closet. Through the glass beside the front door, she spied a UPS package on the porch. She unlocked the door, dropped the package on the front bench, then returned to the kitchen.
    Enrique had found the wine rack and was scanning labels. “How about some wine? It would be relaxing.”
    Claire glanced down at her hands, clasped in a tight knot before her. Yes, wine was a good idea. “Pick one you like. I’ll fix us some cheese and crackers for lunch.” She handed him a corkscrew and glasses, then opened the refrigerator.
    With a practiced pull, Enrique deftly extracted the cork from a bottle of Australian Shiraz. He filled their glasses with the plum-colored wine and carried them to the counter where she had laid out a tray with Brie and Jarlsberg cheeses, crackers, and grapes. He smiled, handed her a glass and lifted his. “A toast . . . to an excellent hostess.”
    Claire drank two quick gulps. The slow burn down her throat to her stomach felt good.
    Enrique settled on a stool and pointed at a family portrait on the wall. “Tell me about your children.”
    “My son, Michael, graduated from the Colorado School of Mines last year and works as an engineer for Electronic Data Systems in Boston.”
    “He must be very intelligent. What about your daughter?”
    “Judy’s a junior at the University of Colorado, currently in France on a semester study-abroad program.”
    “Will she be an engineer too?”
    “No, but she had us wondering. Michael knew his junior year in high school that he wanted to be an engineer. Judy didn’t pick her major until the last possible minute. Then she decided to make it a double. Art and French. In spite of her stubborn independence, she chose the same major as her fuddy-duddy mom.”
    Enrique raised a brow. “Art and French. Très chic .” In a mock salute, he kissed his fingertips and spread them wide.
    Claire laughed. “I didn’t do much with the major besides teach art in elementary schools before the kids were born.”
    “So your nest is empty now. Do you miss them?”
    “Yes, terribly.” Claire stared at the portrait, at Roger’s handsome squared jaw and the clear blue eyes that made her heart thrill when he looked at her with desire, which hadn’t happened since forever. She focused on the images of her children, and guilt washed over her. What would Michael and Judy think of their mom sharing wine with another man, alone, in their home?
    She put down her glass. “Enrique, I’m—”
    “Feeling a little awkward? I promise I will do no more than you want. You shouldn’t waste Ellen’s gift.”
    Her back muscles were already stiffening. A massage made sense, and he did say he would respect her wishes. “I don’t want to disappoint Ellen.”
    Enrique squeezed her hand. “Of course not. But now, let us eat. I am famished.” He slid a cracker into his mouth.
    The light remark dispelled some of her tension. She clinked her glass against his and took the last sip.
    Enrique refilled her glass. He maintained a steady flow of conversation as he plied her with cheese and more wine.
    Soon she felt a warm buzz and laughed as Enrique tossed grapes in the air and caught them in his mouth. Before she knew it, the wine bottle lay in the sink, empty.
    He stood. “Where is your bedroom?”
    Claire’s eyes widened. Then she realized he hadn’t brought a massage table. “Oh no, not my bedroom.” Her gaze lit on the kitchen table. “How about