Scottish Romance: Scottish Highland Romance: Highland Songstress Read Online Free PDF Page B

applicants we’ve had. So I’m basically still the studio 'baby'. I’m really sorry though, can we take a rain-check?” I leaned in and kissed him, pouting a little.
     
    “Hmm. You’ll have to make it up to me tomorrow night.” He kissed my neck and squeezed me. I giggled a little and nuzzled him.
     
    “Alright, I’d better check on the pasta,” I said, getting up, but he pulled me back down.
     
    “Oh, no you don’t. The toll is a minimum of 5 smooches.” I kissed him four times in a row, making a loud smacking sound. I pulled back and looked on his desk. Elliot was a pretty successful comic book artist, and he had left the company to work independently in his office.
     
    “Is this your new story?  What’s this one about again?”
     
    “Oh, I scrapped that one. I kind of hit a wall. I’ve been brainstorming all day.”
     
    I tilted my head in disapproval. “Elly, you can’t scrap every idea that isn’t perfect. You’d meet more submissions if you just stuck with the ones you have.”
     
    “Babe, you don’t get it. I can’t just put out whatever comes to mind. I have to be happy with it or I’ll end up hating myself for submitting it, especially if no one bites.”
     
    I internally rolled my eyes. The smell of burning pasta caught my attention and I hurried out of the kitchen.

***
    I woke up to morning doves singing loudly outside my window. Stretching out my long, limber limbs and collecting my messy red hair, I rolled over and kissed Elliot’s shoulder. He was breathing softly, and I laid and stared at him for a long time. He stirred and I kissed him first on the arm, and then the neck, and then the cheek. He turned and kissed me on the lips, and sleepily pulled the covers to his chin and fell back asleep. I rubbed my eyes and rolled out of bed. It was 6:00 AM. I made a cup of my strongest tea and took a long, hot shower.
     
    When I arrived at the studio an hour later, I didn’t see Nancy’s car. Oh, so you expect me to be here early, but you apparently get to sleep in. I pushed the negative thought out of my head, and yawned as I ascended the stairway, sipping on my second cup of tea. I bet this coach guy is going to be some ridiculous asshole, just like the last one. I don’t care how good at dancing you are, you’re not absolved of being pretentious about it.
     
    I took out my keys and began to unlock the studio door, but was startled to find that it was already unlocked. I opened it slowly, and cautiously walked inside. Binghamton wasn’t the most dangerous city in New York, but I was paranoid out of principle. I spent most of my childhood in the heart of New York City, and never quite lost my tendency for imagining dangerous possibilities. I balled up my fist and proceeded carefully, checking all of the door handles of the offices on the way through. Finally, I reached the ballroom, and stopped just as I was reaching the corner. There was a shadow moving across the ballroom, almost soundlessly, and I could hear breathing. That’s when I heard the faint sound of Frank Sinatra playing on the main stereo, and I peeked around the corner, almost running straight into the shadow’s owner.
     
    “Ooof!” I screeched loudly. I looked up and froze for a moment. I was staring into the most incredible eyes I'd ever seen. I was never much for brown eyes, but these were the same shade as a willow tree, and beautiful.
     
    “Ah, I’m sorry about that.” The man spoke with a velvety, yet gravelly voice.
     
    He had cropped brown hair that curled perfectly on the top of his head, and was both tall and lean in stature. I realized that I must have been staring at him a little too long, because he began to look at me curiously. I looked down and realized that my balled up fist was resting in his palm; I had almost reflexively punched him in the stomach. And he had reflexively blocked it without any noticeable effort.
     
    I backed up immediately, my cheeks flushing wildly.
     
    “I am so