Read Online Lovers and Strangers by Candace Schuler - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Candace Schuler
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talented, either," she added before Jack could respond to the statement about her looks.
It saved him from embarrassing himself with some stupid remark about the perfect luminescence of her lovely face.
"I'm more than happy to leave the acting classes to people like Sammie-Jo," Faith said. "She's the talented one." Her smile beamed with pride in her friend. "She's going to be a famous director some day."
"Not an actress?"
Faith shook her head, swallowing another meatball before she answered. "Sammie-Jo says acting is only a stepping-stone to bigger and better things."
"You and Sammie-Jo don't just work together at Flynn's. You're roommates, too, right?"
"Temporarily," she said, poking at a spring roll with her chopsticks. It was too big to pick up with the slender wooden implements and she couldn't figure out how she was supposed to cut it into smaller pieces without a knife. "I was only planning to stay with her a few days, or maybe a week, just until I could find a place of my own, but Miranda—that's her regular roommate, Miranda Muir—got a part in a movie. She's going to be on location for at least six weeks, so I'm staying with Sammie-Jo until she comes back. It works out perfectly for me," she told him, trying to saw through the spring roll with the edge of a chopstick, "because now I'll have a chance to learn my way around a little bit before I decide where I want to live."
"Do you have any ideas as to where that might be yet?" Jack asked, casually picking his spring roll up with his fingers.
Faith smiled and put the chopsticks down on the edge of her plate. "Something close to the campus, probably, since I don't have a car. I'd rather not get one if I don't have to, because of the expense and all. Although I guess I'll end up getting one eventually, anyway. Sammie-Jo says a car is—" She paused suddenly, eyeing him over the spring roll she held poised halfway to her mouth. "You must be a really terrific reporter," she said admiringly.
Jack cocked an eyebrow at her.
"You've got me sitting here, babbling away about myself like I've known you forever. I don't usually do that."
"You don't?"
"No, I'm not usually much of a talker. And I tend to be kind of cautious with people I don't know well." She bit into her spring roll, smiling blissfully as the new tastes exploded on her tongue. "Especially men," she said, after she'd chewed and swallowed. "But I feel very..." Comfortable had been what she was going to say but it was the wrong word. The way her nerves were humming had nothing to do with comfort. "...Safe," she decided. "I feel very safe with you. Isn't that strange?"
Jack snorted inelegantly. Safe, she said. When he was sitting there thinking about how much fun it would be if they were eating their dim sum back in his apartment. In his bed. Naked. Offhand, he could think of about a half-dozen more interesting uses for hoi sin sauce than wasting it as a dip for Chinese meatballs.
"Were you really a war correspondent?" Faith asked, breaking into his lascivious reverie.
Jake pulled his mind out of the gutter; Faith McCray wasn't the kind of woman you fantasized about smearing foodstuffs on. Not unless you were a complete degenerate.
"That's as good a label as any, I guess," he said reluctantly, abruptly wishing he had a cigarette. But he'd already had his limit for the day. "Mostly, I just call myself a reporter. I don't cover wars exclusively."
"What other kinds of things did—" Faith hesitated uncertainly. Sammie-Jo had said he "used to be some kind of newspaper reporter" but he'd spoken in the present tense. "What kinds of things do you cover?" she asked.
"Death, destruction, corruption, political upheaval and general mayhem." He shrugged and reached for his teacup, picking up the tiny, handleless cup between his thumb and index finger. "All the usual things that make the news every day. And it's did and will do, but not currently doing," he added firmly, taking a sip of tea. "I'm on an extended
It saved him from embarrassing himself with some stupid remark about the perfect luminescence of her lovely face.
"I'm more than happy to leave the acting classes to people like Sammie-Jo," Faith said. "She's the talented one." Her smile beamed with pride in her friend. "She's going to be a famous director some day."
"Not an actress?"
Faith shook her head, swallowing another meatball before she answered. "Sammie-Jo says acting is only a stepping-stone to bigger and better things."
"You and Sammie-Jo don't just work together at Flynn's. You're roommates, too, right?"
"Temporarily," she said, poking at a spring roll with her chopsticks. It was too big to pick up with the slender wooden implements and she couldn't figure out how she was supposed to cut it into smaller pieces without a knife. "I was only planning to stay with her a few days, or maybe a week, just until I could find a place of my own, but Miranda—that's her regular roommate, Miranda Muir—got a part in a movie. She's going to be on location for at least six weeks, so I'm staying with Sammie-Jo until she comes back. It works out perfectly for me," she told him, trying to saw through the spring roll with the edge of a chopstick, "because now I'll have a chance to learn my way around a little bit before I decide where I want to live."
"Do you have any ideas as to where that might be yet?" Jack asked, casually picking his spring roll up with his fingers.
Faith smiled and put the chopsticks down on the edge of her plate. "Something close to the campus, probably, since I don't have a car. I'd rather not get one if I don't have to, because of the expense and all. Although I guess I'll end up getting one eventually, anyway. Sammie-Jo says a car is—" She paused suddenly, eyeing him over the spring roll she held poised halfway to her mouth. "You must be a really terrific reporter," she said admiringly.
Jack cocked an eyebrow at her.
"You've got me sitting here, babbling away about myself like I've known you forever. I don't usually do that."
"You don't?"
"No, I'm not usually much of a talker. And I tend to be kind of cautious with people I don't know well." She bit into her spring roll, smiling blissfully as the new tastes exploded on her tongue. "Especially men," she said, after she'd chewed and swallowed. "But I feel very..." Comfortable had been what she was going to say but it was the wrong word. The way her nerves were humming had nothing to do with comfort. "...Safe," she decided. "I feel very safe with you. Isn't that strange?"
Jack snorted inelegantly. Safe, she said. When he was sitting there thinking about how much fun it would be if they were eating their dim sum back in his apartment. In his bed. Naked. Offhand, he could think of about a half-dozen more interesting uses for hoi sin sauce than wasting it as a dip for Chinese meatballs.
"Were you really a war correspondent?" Faith asked, breaking into his lascivious reverie.
Jake pulled his mind out of the gutter; Faith McCray wasn't the kind of woman you fantasized about smearing foodstuffs on. Not unless you were a complete degenerate.
"That's as good a label as any, I guess," he said reluctantly, abruptly wishing he had a cigarette. But he'd already had his limit for the day. "Mostly, I just call myself a reporter. I don't cover wars exclusively."
"What other kinds of things did—" Faith hesitated uncertainly. Sammie-Jo had said he "used to be some kind of newspaper reporter" but he'd spoken in the present tense. "What kinds of things do you cover?" she asked.
"Death, destruction, corruption, political upheaval and general mayhem." He shrugged and reached for his teacup, picking up the tiny, handleless cup between his thumb and index finger. "All the usual things that make the news every day. And it's did and will do, but not currently doing," he added firmly, taking a sip of tea. "I'm on an extended
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