Precocious turned around and headed to the back of the gallery where her street clothes were stored while Linda propped open the gallery door with a convenient cinderblock and walked to Precocious’s truck. She lowered the tailgate and was reaching for one of the tarps that had been folded and placed near the front of the bed of the truck when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Linda jumped, yelped, and spun around, her hands out to instinctively block any punch that might be thrown. She relaxed minutely when she saw it was Leon behind her. “Don’t you know better than to sneak up on an unsuspecting woman?”

“Sorry.” Leon looked honestly contrite. “I thought you heard me come up. I’m not in the quietest shoes.” He lifted his left foot to show off the large motorcycle boots he was wearing. “You okay?”

“I just don’t do well with people coming up behind me. It’s nothing personal.” Linda finally relaxed her stance and took a deep breath. “Shouldn’t you be home or unpacking your catering truck or something?”

“I’m high man on the totem pole. I delegated." Leon tried to smile, but he was so nervous that he wasn’t sure he’d pulled it off. “Need some help?”

Linda looked him over with suspicion before nodding and gesturing to the back of the truck. “If you want to jump in and help me spread out the tarps, we can get the paintings loaded up.” She waited for him to haul himself into the back of the truck before she started unfolding the first tarp. “Why did you delegate? You must be exhausted.”

“I wanted to see you.” Leon’s smile was a little easier to find when Linda blushed and looked away. Before she could respond or Leon could charm her further, Precocious stepped out of the gallery, keys in one hand, and spotted the two of them at her truck.

“Hey, Leon.” Precocious greeted him as if it wasn’t weird that he would be standing in the back of her truck holding a tarp when he had left the gallery almost an hour ago. “Found my keys,” she said to Linda.

Linda glanced over as she straightened out the first tarp. “Pants?”

“Yeah.” Precocious walked around to the front of the driver's side of the truck and opened the door. She slipped her keys into the ignition and turned them to start the truck. She cranked the air conditioning all the way to 'freezing my ass off' and stepped back out of the truck. "I'll start bringing the paintings out."

"Thanks," Linda made a point of watching Precocious walk back into the gallery. She was hoping that if she pretended Leon wasn't there, then he would disappear.

"I'm not going to disappear."

~Damnit.~ Linda looked back at Leon. "Why would I want you to?"

"Because you don't want me to ask you out because you're having issues of some kind."

"So?"

Leon shrugged. "So, nothing. I'm just pointing out what you already know." He paused in the act of untangling a corner of the tarp and crouched on his heels. "Why won't you go out with me, Linda, seriously? I know I'm not disfigured or otherwise scarily unattractive. What is it about me that you find so repellent?"

"You're male, and right now, I don't like any male who wants to ask me out." Linda looked over her shoulder as Precocious came out with the first painting. "It's not you; it's me."

Leon snorted and ignored the fact that Precocious was within earshot. "Bullshit it's you. It's not you. It's not me. It's that asinine bastard of a jackass that you hat to hit with the cast iron skillet. He made you afraid, and you went for it for reasons I don't understand at all. I’m not that guy."

"Spoken like a true moron in a romance novel." Linda took the painting from Precocious and slid it length-wise into the back of the truck. "We'll have to make more than one trip for this."

"Hell, we made seven trips here, and since you sold half your work, we've only have to make three. It's cool." Precocious squeezed Linda's shoulder and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "just accept a fucking date, would you? You'll be a hypocrite if you don't. At least your ex didn't show up tonight to harass *you*."

Sometimes, Linda hated it when Precocious was right. She gave her a 'fine, leave me alone, would you' look and looked back at Leon. "Coffee?"

Leon beamed like he'd just won the lottery and free beer for a year. "When?"

"I don’t know." Linda thought over her schedule for the next few days. She usually took a couple of days off after a show to relax a little bit. "How about Monday?"

"Name a time, and I'm there."

"Don’t you work on Monday?"

Leon waved it off with a flick of his wrist. "I'm a caterer. We have interesting hours. I can certainly find time to have coffee with you."

"Considering you've invested more time just getting her to *accept* coffee than the actual date is going to last," Precocious muttered under her breath as she walked back into the gallery.

Linda pretended like she hadn't heard Precocious's comment. She could always kill her later. "How about two o'clock, at 'Beanie's'?"

"I will be there. There won't be bells, but I'll be happy." Leon jumped off the back of the truck and slung a companionable arm around Linda. "I take you out for coffee, and you'll wonder why you waited so long to accept my honest invitations to worship at your feet." He kissed her cheek and strutted into the gallery. "You'll fall for me!"

"It's going to take more than coffee!" Linda couldn't help but laugh a little at the whole situation. For the first time since the cast iron skillet incident, Linda felt equal parts female and in control. Every once and a while, Precocious had good advice.

*

Monday morning dawned scorching hot. Southwestern Kansas, dry except where the irrigation made the fields otherwise, was not known to be particularly kind in the height of summer. The air rippled in a way most people outside of Southwestern Kansas usually only saw in movies. There were no small creatures out to gasp at the heat and the unbearable sun, but there were certainly enough farmers out wiping their brows with their forearms to let people know that it was too damned fucking hot.

Tyler woke up when the air conditioner didn't kick on, and he rolled out of bed with a grumble. Or, at least he tried. Something leggy and female and smelling mildly of slightly ripe booze and expensive lotion was blocking his path off the bed.

~What the fuck did I do?~ Tyler had been in a massive alcohol haze Sunday night, due mostly to his inability to turn his cell phone off, and his total ability to answer his cell phone even when he knew it was going to be Julia on the line. She had been drunk and calling since Friday. Tyler suddenly had a bile-inducing thought; ~Oh, please do not tell me I fucked Julia. Please tell me I did not have a blind drunk fuck with the woman who relished making my life hell the last eight months. Dear God, if you are indeed merciful and kind and all that, you will make this woman in my bed anyone who is *not* Julia. Please.~ Tyler pulled the covers off the face of the leggy, odd-smelling mystery woman. It was, indeed, Julia. ~Fuck you, God. This isn't funny.~ Julia suddenly turned over and opened her eyes. Tyler froze like a deer in headlights or some other bad cliché.

Julia smiled the smile of a woman who has captured the man of her choice and plans to use him in ways considered cruel and unusual by the United States, but were in no way possible to make illegal. "Hello, Tyler." Her voice was smug and a little raspy from the lack of non-alcoholic moisture in her mouth. "You were fabulous last night."

Tyler stared in utter disbelief. "We did not-"

"We did." Julia sat up and slid out of bed, leaving the sheets behind, and walking naked to the bathroom. "I rode you three times. You don't remember?"

"I-how-" Tyler searched for something that would prove her wrong. "I was drunk! How could we have sex if I was *drunk*?!"

Julia turned her head so that she was looking over her shoulder in a way that would have been sexy for anyone who was not Tyler in a massive panic. "You had the good kind of whiskey dick. It was up and running, but it wouldn't go off. It was great." The last sentence was practically a purr. Julia flipped her hair over her shoulder and finished her saunter to the bathroom.

Tyler stared blindly at the sheets, his own nudity, and then at random objects around the room like they were going to stand up and tell him what to do. The comb didn't have any advice. Neither did the clock, the lamp, or the small stack of broken down boxes that were stacked by the door. Deciding that he was going to need a lot of liquor or one really good hit of acid to get advice from inanimate objects, Tyler took a less crazy route, and climbed out of bed to make some coffee. He wrapped his robe around himself before heading towards the kitchen. Nudity would only encourage Julia. He didn’t want to encourage her ever again.

The coffee pot, fuck love it, was working exactly like it was supposed to. ~Unlike me,~ Tyler thought darkly as he pulled his mug off the drying rack and filled it to the rim with very hot, very black, very sobering coffee. ~Not that I really need sobering.~ The doorbell sounded, and Tyler cursed. "Not now." The doorbell sounded again. Tyler muttered curses to whatever asshole delivery person or postal worker made their rounds at nine forty-six in the morning, and walked through the living room to fling open the front door. Precocious stood on the stoop. Tyler suddenly wished he could die. Quickly. With no explanation.

"Morning." Precocious made no move to step inside Tyler's house. She held out a box of donuts. "I come bearing gifts." She performed a quarter-turn so Tyler could see her backpack, "and some files, if you have the time."

Before Tyler could use the basic excuse of not having time for files, Julia slithered up behind him and took his coffee cup from his hand. She sipped it like it was a regular occurrence, and gave a cold, victorious smile to Precocious. "Sorry, he's busy."

Precocious, who had been completely cheerful a few seconds before, suddenly went winter in Wisconsin cold. Her voice was stiff. "Well, from what I hear, when it comes to you, he won't be busy for that long." Before Julia could retaliate, Precocious nodded to Tyler and held out the donuts. "Breakfast on me. I'll see you later." She turned and walked back towards her truck, shoulders back and a defiant tilt to her chin.

Julia snorted in an amused way that high society women with too much money were born to snort. "I still can't believe she dragged you to that art show."

Tyler turned away from the door, donuts still in hand, and stared at her in disbelief, much as he had ten minutes ago in his bedroom. Some part of his head recognized that she was nude, but he pushed it away. "I wasn't dragged; I went willingly. And I was having a good time until some drunk bitch of an ex called me up."

"Careful what you say, Tyler; you fucked me last night." Any warmth Julia might have had was gone.