Nightsong Read Online Free PDF Page B

chose. Of course, nothing ever is that simple.”
    “So you didn’t get to keep that promise?” She absently studied the food she’d spooned onto her plate before lifting her gaze again.
    “Oh, I kept it,” he said in a voice noticeably lacking in enthusiasm. “I’ve lived in more countries than most people can name.”
    “I hated moving from state to state, but I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live abroad.” Elleny sipped her tea. “I suppose you spent most of your time studying.”
    “Studying?”
    “Art. Didn’t you say you were an artist?”
    “Yes. That’s right.” Phillip lifted his glass, then set it back without taking a drink. “I’m afraid I didn’t make the best use of my opportunities, though. And I didn’t begin to take painting seriously until recently.”
    Elleny concentrated on her lunch to keep her surprise from showing. She would have sworn that Phillip Kessler was the type who’d been born knowing what he wanted.  And that he made the best of any and all opportunities. “So you’re not like Mark, who grew up with a paintbrush in one hand and a vision in the other?”
    Phillip smiled at that. “My hands were too busy stocking the shelves of the family grocery store. It’s pretty hard to envision colorful landscapes when you’re stacking cans of tomato paste.”
    “And now?”
    “Now I have the time and the opportunity to search for....” He stopped to choose a word and Elleny leaned forward.
    “…inspiration?” she suggested.
    “Something like that. Whatever it is, I know Mark and Jesse Damon both found it here.” Phillip lifted his shoulder in a modest shrug. “I never argue with success, so here I am in Cedar Springs, looking high and low for a studio.”
    “No luck so far?” She knew his answer would be negative even before he shook his head. If he had found a place to rent, the news would have gotten back to her by now. Dora Honeycutt was better than a dozen grapevines.
    Phillip ate in silence for several minutes before he caught her gaze. “I’ve been hoping you might change your mind about renting Mark’s studio. It would mean so much to me.”
    “Even if I did reconsider, you wouldn’t want it. That room has been closed ever since Mark died. It would take an army and fifty bottles of Lysol to clear the dust.”
    “Could I see it?” He leaned forward eagerly. “I’m not allergic to dust, and I’d be more than happy to clean the whole place for you.”
    “Phillip....” The explanation, coupled with the words of refusal, crowded together and wouldn’t come out.
    “At least let me see the studio. If only because Mark was my friend.”
    It was the best possible tack to use, and Elleny realized that Phillip used it deliberately. Yet she couldn’t take offense. In his position she might have done the same. She hesitated for only a moment more. “All right. We’ll go after dinner, but just to look.”
    “I understand, Elleny. Thank you.” Sincerity firmed the angle of his jaw, and he seemed pleased. Despite the sudden shadows she thought she glimpsed in his eyes.
    “Tell me about your bookstore, Shamrock Secrets.” Phillip’s tone was easy, his smile disarming.
    Elleny let him lead the conversation simply because she liked talking about the store, liked sharing her love of reading and didn’t mind explaining how it had seemed a natural step to take in order to keep from drowning in the emotional aftermath of Mark’s death.
    From time to time during the course of the meal, Phillip asked questions. Trivial questions for the most part, but phrased in such a way that Elleny felt the answers were important to him. His interest gave her confidence, and she responded naturally by inquiring about his career ambitions.
    All in all he revealed little more than she already knew, but Elleny was intrigued all the more by his reticence. She knew he was eager to see the studio, yet he never revealed a moment’s restlessness. When finally she