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  • Home > Katie Ashley > Runaway Train > Strings of the Heart (Page 11)     
    Strings of the Heart(Runaway Train #3) by Katie Ashley
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    Rhys scowled. “It’s a hazard of being back home around pompous sounding ass**les. It usually takes me a few weeks of being back on the road with the guys to get it out of my system.”

    “I like it. There’s nothing wrong with an expansive vocabulary.”

    Cocking his brows at me, he asked, “Are you trying to say using big words is sexy?”

    “Mmm, hmm. Totally.”

    “Then I’ll just have to keep giving you an illustrious repertoire of wording, eh?”

    “Ooh, I like it very much.” Those words were certainly an understatement. I mean, Rhys wanted me to think he was sexy? He didn’t say he wondered if other girls found it sexy. Just me. Call me crazy that I was probably reading too much into it, but I couldn’t help it. I would take anything I could get.

    Rhys grinned and shook his head at me. “So what’s this internship about?”

    Part of me was reluctant to talk about it because I didn’t want to jinx it. Getting full college credit for what I wanted to do was almost too good to be true. But Rhys’s interested expression made me forget my resolve. “It would be designing and implementing a collection of my own.”

    “That sounds intense.”

    “It is. I would receive credit not just for this summer, but it would also take the place of several other fashion design classes.”

    “Who would you be working for?”

    Here was the kicker of revealing everything. After nibbling on my bottom lip for a moment, I replied, “Runaway Train.”

    “Huh?” he asked, his expression waxing confusion.

    “I would be designing and making some of the wardrobe for Runaway Train and Jacob’s Ladder. I would also be doing hands-on work with the current stylist.”

    “Does that mean you’d be touring with us?”

    “Yeah, it would.”

    Rhys’s expression was hard to read. It seemed like many different emotions filtered through him. When he smiled, I exhaled a breath of relief. “That sounds like an amazing opportunity, Allison.”

    “Really?”

    “Hell, yes. I mean, it’s one thing getting to come out on tour and work firsthand with a tried and true designer and stylist, but then there’s the fact that you would be creating your own collection at your age. That’s very impressive.”

    “You sound as if it’s a done deal, and I’ve already gotten it. I won’t know for a few more weeks if I’m accepted or not. There are a ton of applicants, too.”

    Shaking his head, Rhys said, “There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll get it.”

    “But how do you know how good I am at fashion design?”

    “I don’t have to know how good you are at it. I know you, and that’s plenty enough to tell me that you’re one of the candidates at the top of the list.”

    I couldn’t help feeling extremely flattered by his high praise of me and my abilities. “Thank you for believing in me.”

    “No need to thank me, Allie-Bean.” He cocked his head at me. “Now are you ready for our tour?”

    “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, with a smile.

    After taking a left, Rhys motioned at an imposing mansion. “Do you know what that is?”

    I nodded. “The Juliette Gordon Low House—the founder of the Girl Scouts lived there.”

    He smiled. “See, you’re not totally lost about Savannah culture and landmarks.”

    “I’ve never got to go inside it though.” Tilting my head, I asked, “Want to be my tour guide there?”

    “I would love to.” After peering at the sign giving tour hours, he then glanced down at his expensive-looking watch and grimaced. “Unfortunately, it’s four and just closing.” Flashing a grin, he said, “I could try to use my VIP status, but I’m not sure how many of the tour guides would actually know me.”

    “I’m sure a lot of the Girl Scouts would. Runaway Train’s audience is pretty vast on the age scale.”

    “Maybe.”

    “Well, bummer on the tour. Guess that means you’ll have to bring me back another day, huh?” I teased.

    With a roll of his eyes, he replied, “You act like it would pain me to spend time with you. That is not the case.”

    “Really?” I asked, as my heartbeat sped up.

    “Of course not. Plus, I love history.”

    As I dodged out of the way of some Girl Scouts leaving the museum gift shop, I eyed Rhys curiously. “Hmm, I never pegged you as a history buff.”

    He laughed as he shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I was more of a history nerd.”

    I couldn’t help laughing at the absurd thought of him being a nerd. Sure, it would seem from the way he had been speaking very formally and properly this afternoon that he could be a nerd, but at the same time, I’d spent lots of downtime with him, and he was the furthest thing from a nerd. That wasn’t just my crush talking either.

    “You can laugh, but seriously, I have photographic evidence of my nerdom,” Rhys argued.

    “I find it very hard to believe considering who you are now that you were ever even remotely in the category of a nerd.”

    Rhys tsked at me as he checked left and right for traffic. “I’m going to gloat pretty badly when I show you the pics and get to say ‘I told you so.’”

    “Ha, we’ll just have to see.”

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