Within Reach

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but our team is here now. You’re going to have to leave.”

“Okay.”

She took one last look around her devastated studio. As she’d said to Michael, there was nothing she could do here till tomorrow.

Shoulders straight, she headed for home.

* * *

MICHAEL WORRIED ABOUT Angie all night until he went to bed and then started again first thing when he woke the next morning. She’d done so much for him and the kids and he hated the thought of her having to deal with the invasion of her creative space all on her own.

After he’d dropped Eva at school, he drove into the city. Charlie was asleep in his car seat by the time Michael found a parking spot. He unstrapped him and carried him the block to Angie’s building. Charlie began to wriggle in his arms as he approached the entrance and he set his son on his feet and took his hand.

“You happy now?”

Charlie nodded.

“Shall we go visit Angie, then?”

“Angie?” Charlie’s face was a study in delight.

The directory in the foyer told him A. Bartlett was in studio twenty-three on the fifth floor. He eyed the ancient cage elevator suspiciously before deciding to take the stairs. After the first flight, Charlie allowed himself to be carried again, a capitulation which shortened their upward trek by several minutes.

Glass crunched underfoot, and when they arrived at the fifth floor more piles of broken glass were stationed periodically along the corridor, clearly waiting to be collected and disposed of. Michael winced when he saw the damage to some of the studios he passed.

“Down. Down!” Charlie commanded as they neared Angie’s.

Michael set him on his feet but kept a tight grip on his son’s hand as he searched for number twenty-three. Belatedly it occurred to him that he probably should have called first—for all he knew, Angie might be out arranging repairs or talking to clients. Then he saw that the door to what he assumed was her studio was open and lifted a hand to knock on the doorframe to announce himself. His hand froze inches from the wood as he registered that Angie was inside and that she wasn’t alone.

Not by a long shot.

Instead, she was in what looked like a fervent embrace with a tall, muscular man with long dark hair. The other man’s hands were splayed possessively over the small of her back, his face nuzzled into the curve of her neck and shoulder. Her arms banded around him, the muscles in her arms flexing as she held him close. Michael couldn’t see her face, but it was blindingly obvious that he was about to step into what was clearly a very private moment.

He would come back later. Maybe take Charlie for a walk around the block, then pop in again. Give Angie time to do…whatever with her friend. Or whoever the guy was.

He took a step backward, already pivoting on his heel.

Charlie resisted, straining against his grip. “Angie.” He pointed at the object of his affection.

Angie’s head came up, eyes wide.

“Charlie.” She stepped out of the other man’s arms as her gaze shifted to Michael. “Michael. What are you guys doing here?”

She looked and sounded so surprised he suddenly felt a little self-conscious. “We, um, wanted to make sure you’re okay. But we can come back later.” He tugged on Charlie’s arm again. “Come on, matey. You want to go get some chocolate?”

“Don’t be silly. You weren’t interrupting anything,” Angie said.

Long-haired guy frowned, not liking the sound of that.

“I can’t believe you came all the way into the city just to see me. How lucky am I?” Angie bent to scoop Charlie into her arms.

His son happily sat on her hip, despite the fact that he’d squirmed his way out of Michael’s arms barely minutes before.

“Angie,” Charlie said, reaching out to touch the sparkling earring dangling from her lobe.

“I thought we could help you clean up, sort things out,” Michael said.

Angie’s expression was soft with gratitude. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”

Long-haired guy shifted his weight ostentatiously, drawing attention to himself.

Angie looked a little sheepish. “Sorry, I’m being rude. Carlos, this is Michael and Charlie. Carlos has a studio on the fourth floor.”

“Good to meet you. I hope things didn’t go too badly for you last night.” Michael offered his hand.

“I was lucky for once, since they skipped me. But poor Angie was not so lucky.”

“No,” Michael said, very aware of the other man sizing him up.

Carlos stepped closer to Angie and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I need to get back to my work, but we’re still on for lunch, yes?”

There was a faint lilt to his voice, indicating that English was not his first language.

“Can I call you? I really want to get as much of this sorted today as I can. I can’t afford to lose more time.” Her forehead was puckered with worry.

“You have to eat, beautiful,” Carlos said. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, maintaining the contact longer than was strictly necessary. Almost as though he was trying to make a point—although to whom, Michael had no idea. “Call me, okay?”

Carlos gave Michael a reserved nod before leaving. Angie jiggled Charlie on her hip, making him giggle.

“This is a nice surprise, isn’t it? A lovely surprise,” she said. Her cheeks were a little flushed, as though she was embarrassed about something.

Michael surveyed the room, taking in the graffiti and the pile of glass and other debris that had been swept into the corner. Pieces of a broken table and chairs lay beside it, and twin piles of books were stacked near the door. A mid-century sideboard in teak veneer lay facedown on the ground.

“They did a real number on the place, huh?”

“Pretty much. If it moved, they smashed it, and if it didn’t, they painted it.” Angie shook her head with disgust.

Michael crossed to the sideboard and crouched, getting a good grip on it before easing into an upright position. Once it was righted he saw it was still half-filled with books, which explained both why it was so heavy and why Angie hadn’t tackled it on her own. There was more broken glass underneath, as well as the smashed remains of what looked like a porcelain menagerie—a lion, a tiger, an elephant and a monkey.

“More casualties.” Angie’s face was taut with unhappiness.

“No be sad,” Charlie said, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “You no be sad.”

She immediately smiled, rubbing her nose against his. “It’s okay, Charlie-boy. I’m okay.”

Michael pushed the sideboard against the wall and crouched to tidy the books on the shelves.

“Don’t worry about those. I can do that later,” she said.