Charles Bingley- you will notice that there are 2 mentions of his history and indication that maybe he is not as wealthy as his canon character- all will be explained, so bear with me and feel free to ask questions.

William Darcy

Mercedes Lucas- mentioned a couple of times in the story- Francesca Bennet's frenemy and Char's mom, On Longbourn Theatre Company's board.

Dr Donald Lucas- mentioned a couple of times in the story- Tenured Longbourn State University Professor

Jane Bennet

Chapter 3: In want of a Muse

Late Summer, Current Year, Dona Maria, New Mexico: While ODG is interning in Colorado, her sister is busy avoiding a certain gentleman.

Researching the place that would be his home during production, Charles Bingley found images of desert brush and purple mountains. These were slightly different than the familiar, cosmopolitan, northern New Mexico he knew. In southern NM, small, worn, old shoeboxes of towns had names like Deming and Hatch, There was remoteness, characteristic of quirky indie movie towns, unchanged for generations.

It was his dear friend whom he happened to owe thanks to for this adventure. William Darcy, well known and critically acclaimed Visionary and Scenic Artist accepted an offer as Scenic Artist at Longbourn Theatre Company. He'd only done so contingent upon Longbourn offering Bingley to be the show's Set Designer and Charles was happy to take the job. With a resolve to fit his studio needs, Darcy talked Bingley into combining their housing stipends to lease more commodious lodgings than the usual apartments*. For himself, money was no object and he planned on paying the balance anyway. Bingley couldn't argue with the plan, Darcy insisted. They approached Theater Board Member Mercedes Lucas with their request. Mercedes's connections were instrumental in Bingley's acquisition of a grand house on part of the old Netherfield farm acreage.

Netherfield Farm had been divided into 'horsey' estates and the Lucases themselves owned some acreage bordering Bingley's leased property, where their daughter lived. The estates were plotted in the typical irregularly meandering Rio Grande fashion. The southwest plot that Charles and Darcy leased was resplendent with a small grove of Cottonwood, beyond which flowed the Rio Grande.

The ranch style home was a recently built rambling 2 story brick with a tin roof. Comfortable, yet well appointed, the home had state of the art kitchen, territorial built-ins, and Saltillo tile floors. It came furnished in an eclectic territorial style complete with a multitude of rooms fitting a variety of uses, including an upstairs veranda and ground level wraparound porch. The front was xeriscaped from existing and local plants to create a textured and colorful desert paradise.

Bingley was the first to arrive and settle into his new place one Indian summer evening, unpacking his bags. Mercedes had thoughtfully brought a welcome basket of wine, cheese, empanadas, tamales, tortillas, jams, honey, chile, pecans, grassfed beef, and other local goods. Charles put together a plate and opened his laptop to do a little homework on the cast and crew. Having set about researching each name, Charles was most diverted at the unexpected treasure he unearthed. Now that the muse was staring him in the face, Charles realized how desperately he'd been starving for new artistic vision.

*Theatres often house guest artists in pre arranged housing, whether dorm rooms, houses, apartments, or hotel rooms. Of course the accommodations are dependent on the Theatre's budget and the guest's importance. This arrangement is also the case for interns. In my time, I stayed in an attic bedroom that was invaded by bats, a highrise apartment (my only experience of the kind), a quaint old fashioned (possibly haunted) dormitory, what had once been an old bordello (fun, tacky and supposedly haunted), and the worst- an old boy scout camp in a swamp in the middle of a cornfield – complete with outdoor showers (I hated that summer gig).

www dot classicnmhomes dot com/

here is a site that shows Southern NM homes w/ xeriscaping. I didn't want to intrude on my family's neighbors to take pictures of examples on old farm property but it is similar, only greener with old trees around and fields interspersed instead of all desert.

Chapter 4: Meeting the Muse

Charles read her CV and easily found her featured as a fair queen and rodeo queen in a secession of photos on old sites. On one old County Fair video, Jane was performing at some event or other a couple of years ago. The southwest queen's jean clad hips were encircled by the biggest silver concho belt Charles had ever seen. Legs went on for days; her graceful arms were adorned with sizable traditional turquoise bracelets. The Nordic beauty's long hair swayed in time with her hips to the music she made, singing while playing on the guitar a rendition of Misguided Angel. The name was vaguely familiar- Jane…. Bennet? That distant pleasant memory of her was certainly the cause of his primal reaction, but when, where, had they met?

He immediately sent a friend request. Days passed in a whirlwind as Charles spent time in pre production mode at the University. She was always at the back of his mind, a wisp in the corner of his eye when he turned his head. Disappointment grew every day she didn't answer his request and every time she eluded him at the theatre.

Maeve teased him about skulking around the outside of the shop doors too many times to count, and she maddeningly refused to provide him with a certain student employee's schedule. He continued to skulk about. Maeve did her level best in talking up this young man to her employee. Scheduling her at opportune times wasn't beneath her, either.

Finally persistence paid off one day at the start of Fall Semester, when, opening the Costume Shop door, Charles was promptly rewarded with the site of a fine posterior greeting him. A well formed blonde was hunched over, picking up pins from the floor. He said nothing, observing what a magnificent body can do to a pair of patched up jeans. Before Charles could will himself to speak, the subject had turned around, hand on her hip, head cocked. In mute question, she cleared her throat. He shook his head to clear out the cobweb fantasies and managed: "Ummmm, hello, aren't you Jane Bennet?"

The Angel's eyebrows quirked."Maybe."

"Well, nice to finally meet you in person," he took her hand and pumped it with enthusiasm."I'm Charles Bingley. Did you see my friend request?" Since when did he have a soprano voice?

Maddeningly, she pulled away quickly and resumed her work so all he could see was her curtain of hair draped where she was bending over a box, "So, Mr. Bingley, to what do I owe the honor of being singled out?"

He couldn't keep from staring and realized he hadn't answered her when she looked up, expectantly. "I always research people I'll be working with to know their work. I was quite taken by your Fair Queen performance and one thing led to another, you know…."

"Well aren't you charming?" Her tone said something different.

He became fidgety. "If you find me charming does that mean you will finally friend me?"

"I suppose." She remained intent at her work. "Is that what you came for, or did you have actual Theatre business?"

"I heard that Lizzy sent swatches for me. Do you know where they are, so that I can get them today?" He became aware of his foot tapping only when she turned and looked down pointedly.

"Certainly." Jane handed Charles a packet. He took it, inspecting it while lingering, hoping it would offer him further reason to stay in the shop. Jane observed Charles in detail. His blonde curls fell forward artfully. His black jeans fit very well indeed and crisp button down shirt had to be custom made, azure like his eyes. The tailored vest was designer vintage which went nicely with well worn Rocketbuster boots*. A questioning expression flashed across her face.

Stuttering at first, he asked"Can I take you to coffee?"

"I was just going to class…."She remained intent on finishing her project, avoiding eye contact, and when he caught her eye, she blushed.

"Well, how about dinner tonight? I'd love to go somewhere that does good Southern New Mexican food. I'd love for you to show me your favorite hole in the wall."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his statement. "If you're man enough to handle the heat, I suggest my favorite, Rancho Bonito. On two conditions: promise to be a perfect gentleman and buy me a Margarita."

"I'm very much looking forward to it." He bowed and kissed her hand, which remained limply in Charles's sure grip as his lips brushed her knuckles for an exquisite eternity. Then, he turned and strode out the door.

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Jane gathered her things and headed to class. Her distraction was readily apparent as she sat down. "Jane! What happened?"Charlotte asked.

Jane was quiet for too long as far as her friend was concerned. Finally she spoke in a foreign voice. "Charlotte, do you think I'm safe having dinner with Charles Bingley?"

"That cute blonde artist from the newest production who tried to friend you?" Charlotte was now slightly bouncing in her chair.

Jane looked around to see if her friend was attracting attention and lowered her voice."The very one."

"If your moonstruck expression is any indication, no! I knew it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to his temptation. Hell, if it had been me, I'd have friended him right away. Let the sexting begin!"Her friend and classmate held her arm up in a salute.

Jane's face grew redder, the flush blooming down her body. "I knew I couldn't keep avoiding him. When he finally cornered me in the shop, Charles said he was a fan of my embarrassing fair performance. It kindof freaked me out but I couldn't resist… Especially with Maeve egging me on ever since he wandered into the shop the first time. He's certainly got her approval, and she knows him through a mutual friend. She told me to go for it. What if he's just the same old guy?" She shuddered.

Her friend shook her head, "Jane, you don't have to keep all men at arm's length. You know, if killing people with kindness were an art, you'd be a black belt."

"I have no idea what you mean, I certainly have no admirers," Jane responded, arms crossed protectively in front of herself.

"Yes, yes, you are completely oblivious to how your myriad potential suitors fancy themselves in love with you. But, dearest, after being let down, I understand how you don't believe any man capable of appreciating everything about you. And I do mean everything. A handsome, rather well known, talented man has sought you out, and he didn't run out of the building when he met you in person. Believe it or not, I think he just MAY have a crush on you." Charlotte pressed.

Jane's shoulders slumped."Yes, I admit that he must like me a little. It's quite vexing."

"What torture to be asked out by such a hottie, and one who's done his homework about you- it's so CUTE that he watched your videos! Mom knew something was up when she dropped off the gift basket; the way he obviously showed interest in the Costumers. Not to mention the way he's been loitering around the shop for weeks. He clearly has a clue that you're worth the effort, and he is making it! I have a feeling he's a keeper." Charlotte practically sang the last sentence.

"Char, I was planning on just going out- not marrying him. We've only met."Jane responded.

"Uh huh! Now who's the one suggesting marriage? I could analyze that but I won't," Charlotte sniffed. "If I were you, with a luscious man like that, I'd at least make out with him! And if he offered, who am I to turn down a hot piece of man candy!?"

"Charlotte!"The two giggled. Jane knew why her friend was so encouraging. Since the accident she was changed. Her figure was more generous but her friend insisted it still looked like it came straight out of a Botticelli*. After she needed reconstructive surgery, Charlotte swore her face bore nearly indistinguishable changes. The leg injuries restricted Jane from lengthy exercise such as her beloved riding, or even walking from one end of campus to the other. More damage was done from her mother's ongoing comments about how Jane was no longer the beauty in the family, how tragic that her face and body had been deformed, how sorry she was that poor Jane had to have a new career since she was too disabled to inherit The Farm. This only served to compound Jane's self consciousness and the pain inflicted when her boyfriend, a semi professional bronc rider, just stopped calling after he heard she was in an accident. She cried on Charlotte and Elizabeth's shoulders for weeks on end. Char and Lizzy were forever cheering her on to ignore her mother and live her life again. So, to Charlotte, this was a perfect opportunity.

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Charles messaged Jane a few days prior. Charlotte urged her friend to google Bingley. It was a cursory search, but they discovered Charles's father's Real Estate development empire, Charles's art, and Jane also found out his sister Caroline's work. After he left more charming messages, Charlotte persisted with her arguments that Jane should give him a chance.

Jane wished she had more advice. Of course Lizzy had been silent on the subject: only because she was nearly unreachable in Lambton, a place that had not yet heard of WiFi and had a dearth of DSL. Forget cell connections in that rocky canyon- not that there had been much time for Lizzy to talk anyway. Soon enough Lizzy would be back and they would catch up.

For now, Charlotte was here. In need of more support, after class, Jane went to Charlotte's to get ready for the date instead of going home. Nervous enough, Jane needed no help from her high strung mother. If Fran Bennet knew she was about to go to dinner with the talented, eligible Mr Bingley, Francesca would probably do something. Two words expressed Jane's thought on this: NO. WAY.

Ever prepared, Jane kept a change of clothes in her vehicle, never knowing when she'd need to crash after all-nighter. Jane and Char thus cobbled together the date ensemble from her and Charlotte's things. Jane had a long, silver Celtic knot pendant and an ethereal blue shirt dress on hand. She borrowed knee length boots and a blazer shot through with silver thread; Charlotte had convinced Jane to dress up a little. While the two had completely different looks and contrasting builds, their similarities of height and measurements conveniently enabled some sharing of clothes.

Jane had just finished dressing and was coming out to show her friend the result. She happened up on her friend who had her laptop open and was intently studying something. Looking more closely, Jane saw several images by the same artist interspersed on the search page with articles. Charles Bingley was the name attached both to the art and to the affairs. Her stomach dropped. She gasped. Charlotte gave her a stern talking to, first about sneaking up on a person and then about making assumptions. Putting every psych tool she had into the pep talk of her life (possibly even trying hypnosis, but who was counting?), Char convinced her friend to honor the date and ask him about his history.

She made a point that the initial search they'd made had not given any indication of current affairs. Charlotte confessed she had just wanted to do more digging and it took a bit of effort to find this dirt on Charles. All of the nudes were over a year old and his recent work was mostly theatrical. Jane gathered her wits and proceeded to what had to be a futile date. She was only humoring Char, wasn't she? Did she really believe the man's past was in his past? Or, if she went digging more, what else would she find?

*this will give you a slight idea of the look.

cowboylifestylenetwork dot com/2013-state-rodeo-queen/

*Navajo made- made by Native American Navajo Artists, not junk from a developing country sold at a hipster store made to look Native American.

www dot aaanativearts dot

* Rocketbuster

www dot rocketbuster dot com/

*4-H-An organization with multiple projects available to educate youth. It originally designed to educate youth about the importance of agriculture and associated occupations, continuing in this endeavor, 4-H has modernized and its focus is also largely on social responsibility. Youth still take yearly 'projects' to learn skills from horticulture, animal husbandry, agriculture, domestic arts, fine arts, crafts, public speaking, leadership, even rocketry and robotics…. The list goes on. This alludes to Jane having taken sewing for several years in 4-H, and thus becoming proficient at such practice!

* Botticelli- ie the renaissance artist responsible for Birth of Venus, Primavera, etc.

en dot wikipedia dot org/wiki/Sandro_Botticelli

Chapter 5: The Date

Late Summer of the Current Year:

When Jane entered Rancho Bonito, something on her sparkled as she moved and her loose flaxen hair fluttered in the breeze. So did her dress, revealing, from time to time, more of her shapely, long legs. "You look ethereal."The light caught another momentary sparkle in her dress and Jane noticed an expression of recognition flash across Charles's face. She wondered at it.

"Thanks!" She answered, brightly, but Jane was quite resolved his good looks would not divert from her mission to learn his true intentions. The search page was too stark of a reminder.

"What do you suggest I have?" His hand shook slightly as he sipped his water.

"If you've got the constitution, I recommend getting the barbacoa plate, ask for extra hot. It isn't as elegant as Santa Fe cuisine, but it has been to the taste of many connoisseurs." She gestured to the walls, holding signed photographs of regional, national, and internationally known writers, artists, actors and singers.

"I am determined to be pleased." Jane ignored him in favor of her menu and when both were ready they ordered.

Charles asked questions about the area, while Jane provided a thorough list of places to go when he might need art or theatre project supplies. They discussed salvage shops, traditional local craftsman, as well as textile and furnishing warehouses. Jane happily described her favorite places to be outside of The Farm; two massive used bookstores in town, and a handful of quaint coffee shops.

Another favorite was the charming Film Society where one could soak in an art film, glass of wine in hand- she confided she probably preferred the concession to the sometimes too angsty movies – favoring instead when they played an indie rom com. Charles learned that Jane also spent copious hours in the Psychology department, the University Library or in one of the all night restaurants studying.

Before she could stop herself Jane was mentioning 101 where there happened to be a listening party. Jane and Char had already planned picking up Lizzy from the airport on that particular afternoon. The listening party was to be their celebration of Lizzy's return. Charles enthused about going to such an event and invited himself and his friends, describing them to Jane. Dammit, she couldn't say no. She'd have to explain this to Char and Lizzy. The two settled arrangements for that evening.

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As they shared the meal- both ordered Christmas combination plates- Jane noticed he was digging in to the hot plate with gusto, not reaching for the water even once- clearly not an amateur. Observing, Jane began her plan of attack. Questions began innocuously "Tell me about your work," that sort of thing.

Charles started out talking about his artistic mediums. She listened, a placid look on her face, all the while asking questions to draw him out. Soon enough, he was inadvertently sharing his origin story, how his father disowned him, starving for an unknown amount of time- even doing art on the streets for cash. He had his spiel down and this part- the homeless part- She wondered how many girls ever heard it or if it was a buzzkill. But not for Jane… Wait a minute, was she into a homeless guy? No, he was just confusing her now. She continued to smile, nod and listening, even while the dialogue was running in her head. She had gotten really good at multitasking this way from her family….

"There I was, dragging my work around from place to place, painting to utter exhaustion, then spending nights in whatever borrowed space I could. I ate stale peanut butter sandwiches and slept on paint spattered cement studio floors in my old North Face sleeping bag, one of the few remnants of my past life. Painting was my only luxury.

I barely had enough to live on and less than a handful of friends upon whom I could depend, yet finally, FINALLY, I felt like I was worth something, if only a little.

In order to eat, I had long since sold off what valuable possessions I'd still owned. To buy more painting supplies, but not really believing myself ready, one by one, I began to sell work. Those were the pieces nagging at the back of my head in the early hours, done whenever I could steal time and space. Those were treasures sacrificed to my former life as University dropout and disowned son of a prosperous real estate developer.

Months moved more slowly than they ever had when I was in school. Word of mouth spread. Piece by piece was completed- many on commission, others the products of those ticks in the back of the mind.

I grew in success yet not enough to pay rent and fortuitously, my best friend and artistic mentor Darcy was staying in town so he asked me to be his guest. I jumped at the opportunity, and tried to hide how broke I was. The only reason he didn't notice was because of all the stuff going on in his life at the time. He was a mess, and his family was – well, that's not my story to tell. At one point, Darcy had to go back to New York, I had nowhere to go. I was too proud to ask him for any more help even though I knew he'd come through. I didn't want his charity.

Anyhow, Caroline, my sister, let me move in. I am indebted to her hospitality. And now I get the chance to host both of them and you shall meet." Charles realized that Jane asked questions to get to know HIM better, rather than the mundane questions women asked who were only interested in his career or looks. Just who was this woman? He had to turn the tables and find out. "Really, I've been going on about myself. I'm curious to know about those videos of you performing…"

Charles, a social adept in most situations, also asked questions that steered Jane into sharing about her past achievements. She even ended up discussing her family and her recent injury. She told of the pain, the recovery, but Jane didn't bare all to him, didn't say how it all affected her to this day. Even so, their mutual interest drew each into deeper conversation and both shared more than they intended, became attached more quickly than they could have imagined.

Jane remained wary of Charles, wondering if this was just his charisma and if she was going to regret her disclosures. She feared that with time- possibly in the light of day- she would see that he wasn't as fascinating as he seemed at this moment. She felt herself in great danger indeed. Damn Charlotte and Maeve.

"Jane, I'm enchanted not just by what is out here, but even more by what is in here." He surprised her with the lightest touch of his index finger just below the hollow of her throat, continuing the feather light stroke along her collarbone. Threading a lock of Jane's hair, he continued "you have a way about you… you're a Botticelli angel and I'm in your thrall. I'd love sketch your character and to sketch you."

"You're being quite forward." Her voice was sharp and she bowed her head, blushing. He gently took her by the shoulders, looking in her eyes with true intensity. At his touch, Jane grew woozy despite herself, "Enticing as the offer is, I can guess your agenda and part of me is tempted. But that is against my…resolve." Jane almost swallowed the last word.

"My intentions are absolutely pure- I can be platonic if you want." Jane presumed he was thinking nothing of the kind as his head drifted closer to hers.

She couldn't help but tilt her head forward to catch his conversation, smell his essence and feel his warm breath on her cheek. "This is dangerous." Her admonitions wore thin. Recalling something important- the page- mustn't forget the page-, she changed tactics, her head shifted away. "I've seen your work on the internet. I must admit it is amazing. I noticed that you sell a few nudes-f a variety of ladies."They didn't call her a black belt for nothing.

Charles bore a look of discomposure and Jane was duly satisfied. That had been her goal. "The last nude I -ahem- rendered was about 14 months ago- well before I knew of this production- of you. I was done with it then. I admit I've been around with several of my models. In the back of my mind I was waiting to meet someone to capture me who appreciates who I really am- not just what I do." He looked at her in a certain way when he said 'someone'. "When I came across you- I couldn't help myself. It feels like we've known each other . I need to…. I can't explain..." He sighed, trying again "I just want to enjoy working on this production, make some art while I'm here, and (laughing) I don't know, date you or something if you like me. And hopefully, if I'm very very lucky, my newest muse will agree to be the subject of my work."

She regarded Charles, her stomach fluttery since finding the nerve to ask hard questions. How had his charm grown in proportion to his awkwardness? She shook her head, "You're almost irresistible."

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He walked her to her car and Jane could feel the adrenaline of fascination. Charles took her hand kissing it in his sweet, lingering manner. The action suggesting more, as his soft open lips caressed the crevices of her knuckles. She was opening. "Thanks for the chance." His words caressed her fingers, sending wisps of warmth up her arm, pulsing to other places.

Jane felt as if her insides had sunk to her toes and the space left was filled with avarice. "I didn't say I'd give you a chance." Her fingers were tingling where his lips trailed, Breathing caught ever so slightly, communicating to him that she would, indeed, give him a chance. "I am quite taken by you, Mr. Bingley. But,"Jane said sweetly, "If you hurt me, you will be sorry. I don't let my guard down for just anyone."

As she spoke her hand gripped Charles like a vice. His eyes widened and he managed; "I swear; I'm honorable." Her grip softened but not her gaze. He begged a moment then fished out a token he kept in his pocket. It was a heart shaped locket with a glass encased lock of hair next to picture of his great great grandfather as a dashing young man. The man could have been Bingley, they were so alike. He pressed it into her hands. "I've never handed out family heirlooms to anyone, much less a 'mere' model."

She certainly wasn't going to accept this."I take it I'm not a mere model?"

"In case I've not made my feelings clear, know this. Exquisite as you are outwardly, it pales in comparison to the glimpses you've given me of what's inside. This is a symbol: I trust you with something irreplaceable, intimately connected with me to show that you can trust me.

My great great grandmother and grandfather met and married in 2 days. She a put her husband's photo in here. She wanted him close to her heart while he was in Europe fighting the First World War. At the time the locket itself was an antique and old fashioned but they were sentimental. She held out hope through the war. At one point he was thought dead. Just before the memorial service he turned up in a hospital. The man had lost his legs from trench rot, but other than that he healed. The two of them went off to Paris for a time and made art, becoming part of the Lost Generation. They settled down and had seven children and long lives. They're an inspiration to me.

The day I got this show was the day this locket came to me in the mail. It had no return address on the package. When I called my family to find out who sent it, everyone swore that locket had been buried with my grandmother. I took it as a sign, and when I came upon you I felt I knew what it was telling me. So, if I have to fight a battle for your heart, I will." Charles's hands encased her own which were still enfolding the heirloom. "You can trust me."

"You do know you have to work for trust, not just hand out sentimental antiques with an interesting story."Jane regarded him keenly.

"I'm generous to people I care about, and, you said it yourself, loyal to a fault. So, be careful of your challenges. I'll enjoy every minute working for your trust. What you share is safe with me." She could discern what he implied and had difficulty believing this was real. Wanting to believe it was, she looked at the token and, pinning it to her blazer and murmured thanks, unable to form any other reply. It certainly felt real as she fingered the case.

"I take that as a yes." She nodded. "And we are on for the listening party?"

Jane grasped his hand. "We're on." He said he hoped and believed she meant more than the listening party. Despite herself, she did, but she didn't answer him, simply grinning enigmatically before she got in her car.

That night, Jane lay in bed, considering Charles. It was obvious how he felt. She imagined- she knew he lay in bed a few fields away fantasizing about her. She could imagine him wandering up to the house, a lone light on, her silhouette, a pebble thrown at the window, her recognition and invitation. She hadn't felt turned on in months, but he really did it for her. When she lay there after her achievement, Jane had to admit she'd never felt such connection- lock to key, hand to glove. She'd already lost everything, and apparently so had he. Perhaps they both knew how to fight. She turned over and dreamed that she was watching something from The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus with Charles standing center stage.

* Christmas (enchiladas)- red and green chile (enchiladas) together on the same plate: Hatch Valley ( and New Mexico) green chile is famous because of its highly addicting, earthy flavor. Once you get started on mild, you just want hotter and hotter. The heat (at least if the chile isn't freezerburned/ etc) is more flavorful than the chemical heat of many other varieties of chile.

*I am amalgamating years for the sake of this story. When I was in college, El Paso had the 3rd largest garment producing city in the nation. The garment district in downtown El Paso was impressive. Since that time a lot of these producers have relocated from Juarez to China and although there are still lots of stores downtown, it lacks details like the myriad fabric stores with amazing fabrics. There was also an incredible leather warehouse in south El Paso, near Juarez, with all kinds of embossed leathers for amazing prices.

*warning, this may make you very hungry: here are examples of the Southern New Mexican restaurants:

latinopia dot com/latino-food/best-mexican-restaurants-las-cruces-new-mexico

*Lost Generation: en dot wikipedia dot org/wiki/Lost_Generation

Chapter 5: Unexpected meeting

One day before the anticipated outing, Jane sat at the table, large coffee in hand, determined to focus on her studies. She was not analyzing a certain someone. She was not. But when the subject of her reverie unexpectedly breezed into Desert Spirit, she was ill prepared.

"Unbelievable luck. I'm sure it's a sign." She wasn't sure if she heard him right. Jane had been too busy observing Charles's ensemble – and how good he looked in it. His skinny slacks and well crafted wingtips, subtly contrasted with a fitted pinstriped shirt which accentuated his taut chest and slim frame. If Charles's blue eyes weren't so arresting, to her embarrassment, Jane might have found it hard to look away from his assets. Keeping myself under regulation may prove quite the task.

She was astonished as she watched his eyes rake over her, head to toe. She felt like she was seeing herself through his eyes, simply by watching his expression. Her hair was twisted into a side chignon; she wore a creamy Indian style belted peasant tunic with the lightest purple flowers. Around her neck was 'his' locket, perched in her cleavage. The light shone behind her, outlining her form. When he finished the visual tour, his adam's apple dipped and she barely restrained a laugh when he actually gulped.

He stumblingly complimented her, which she deflected with particular interest in his sartorial origins. Charles told her how usually he allowed his sister and Jorge to dress him and cared little for conversing on the topic. He was suddenly spouting information that seemed to shock himself about the topic of fashion. She invited him to check out her Aunt's vintage store. That would be a good test- take him in for her aunt Phillips and the biddies to size him up. Of course the scheme could turn on her… Before she could take the invitation back, he was excitedly agreeing to the plan.

Conversation meandered into comparing their respective families and childhood anecdotes, such as his brother and father's unsuccessful attempts at getting him to play any kind of sport and Caroline's enthusiasm for pageants as a child.

Jane compared her own fair queen experience and the family's involvement in 4-H. She spoke of her mother's scheming and small town intrigues. Later she would look back in embarrassment: I can't believe I told him that. I never go into such intimate detail, not with acquaintances, and certainly not men who are interested in me. Not men like HIM. Shit. That was really too much. She couldn't help but laugh at that one and was almost regretful at his hurt expression. She apologized.

Charles looked at his phone and gasped "I hate to leave but I'm running late." But still, he sat there, unmoving, staring at her, frozen in an almost kiss.

"Why don't I walk you to your car, would that help?" Jane offered, wondering what his touch would feel like.

After a harrowing 30 seconds spent walking to the car she felt fingers caress paths along Jane's palms, up her arms, along her shoulders. Jane thought she might turn to jello. Damn him. They lightly embraced, bodies burned, mouths longed to taste, arms grasped. Ultimately both quit the hopeless business before they got farther off track from their less desirable former activities.

As he drove, Charles recalled an experience previously discarded as diversion.

He went last year with Darcy to Catalina's place in Sedona. They'd been meandering through West Sedona and came upon a psychic fair. On a lark Charles signed up for a session.

Darcy had glowered at Charles's whim but said nothing, grudgingly accompanying him to a room decked out in windchimes, statuary, giant crystals, and strewn with cushions. A wizard-like man named Victor sat before him at the reading. As instructed, Charles said nothing.

The Intuitive told Charles- "You are an artist of some kind? You seem to be chasing the muse. You're more tired than you look. Appearances are deceiving.

Don't worry, you'll find her. I have an image of you on a stage, traveling across desert, across farmland, across highway, across schools.

Your true nature is to withhold nothing: she will love you and hate you for it but you have to fight just like it was a Great Battle.

I am a peaceful soul who knows sometimes one must stand firm, one must face the ugliness for the sake of experiencing the beauty of love. Know yourself. Know the signs. They are gifts from heaven."

Charles was breathless at the detail Victor's foresight portended. What had been an amusement now rang true and Charles felt not a little silly as he considered the old wizard's words. He wondered at the warnings until his thoughts settled on more agreeable things.

* IE Preraphaelite art

*Sedona:

en dot wikipedia dot /article/five-new-age-metaphysical-shops-in-sedona-arizona-a403801/Sedona,_Arizona

and its famed new age shops:

suite101 dot com/article/five-new-age-metaphysical-shops-in-sedona-arizona-a403801

The next night

The anticipated date commenced at the international deli for a late lunch. Char, Richard and Will (as he liked to be called in the company of acquaintances) would make up the rest of their party.

Char and Richard did not disappoint Jane's hopes that they would get along. Richard, a Colonel who had recently transferred to Fort Bliss, seemed to easily win Char's attention. They flirted shamelessly, the (almost) Doctor and the Colonel. Quite the power match, Jane inwardly observed.

Then she was distracted in conversing with Charles about her favorite finds in El Paso, like the leather warehouse, an amazing fabric store, a bootmaker and the best places to get territorial furniture all of which had their uses for outfitting the production on which they were working.

Conversation meandered to life on both sides of the border. Charles showed great interest in an international 4-H program Jane had been in. It had contributed to the betterment of farmers and their families in the borderlands. He even expressed desire to participate in such endeavors himself which revealed something to Jane about his sentiment. She wondered what his actions revealed about his character.

This line of discussion having come to its natural conclusion, Jane and Charles turned to Will concerned at his quietude. The man was more occupied with an ipad containing his sketchbook and lists than with taking any notice of conversation with his tablemates. Jane wondered if he'd even remember having met them later- he seemed almost Aspergian, if not for the haunting look in his eye, which she'd catch every so often. He was an intriguing, handsome man, but one who could never interest her.

From allusions Charles made, Jane had gathered Darcy was not what he seemed. Charles said he'd experienced some losses and was just now settling down from the last one. Perhaps this was the cause of his intense disposition. Mischievously, Jane wondered if Lizzy would have the spirit to handle this handsome man with a brooding disposition- in a few hours, she would find out.

well, ODC are about to meet...