by Lisa Scott
***
“When are you going to dump me?” Goldie asked two days later, as they packed their things to return to the city. They’d spent a wonderful day hiking through the forest, and then Goldie finished a few more paintings as Blake sat and watched.
He folded his beach towel. “Oh, no. You’re dumping me. I need to be distraught and broken hearted. My mother’s so in love with you she’d hate me now if I dumped you.”
She shook her head. “But I can’t break up with you.”
He dropped his head back. “Goldie, you’re a great girl and a lot of fun, and you’re an amazing kisser, but I can’t have a girlfriend right now. I’m so wrapped up in my career, it’s just not fair. I’m being honest.”
I’m an amazing kisser? She shook the idea out of her head and put her hand on her hip, tapping her toe. “I mean, your mother wouldn’t think I’d break up with you. Here’s our story: you find out I’m quitting law to pursue art, and my irresponsibility makes you wild. Why would I leave you?”
He shrugged. “Because I demanded you keep your job.” He pointed at her. “I was unreasonable; I didn’t support you. And you got mad.”
“But you’ve been really nice about my painting.” Miss Sniggles hopped on her lap and licked her hand. “You said my paintings were unique and thought provoking.” She’d almost cried when he said that the day before. She looked down, running a finger through the dog’s fur. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about my art.”
“Nicer than your parents?”
“They think it’s a waste. Just like you do. At least, that’s what you’re going to tell your mother.” Oh, it felt horrible saying that.
He frowned. And they stopped talking about the breakup.
***
Back in the city, Blake knew he should’ve gone back to work. But he told himself it was smart to stay at home to keep an eye on Goldie. Maybe she was really a thief who was going to rob him blind. Yeah, right. But instead of going back to the office, he watched her paint at the park. They took Miss Sniggles for such long walks, they ended up having to carry her. And they explored all the restaurants he’d been meaning to try. Basically, they were acting like a couple; and he liked it.
On Friday, he was disappointed when he realized he only had three more days of vacation left. And he wasn’t looking forward to going back to the office. Not just because he wouldn’t be spending time with Goldie, but the endless work just didn’t appeal to him.
After feeding the dog, Goldie was ready for dinner. It was ten blocks away, and normally, he would’ve hopped in a cab. But Goldie wanted to walk, and he looked forward to her observations as they strolled along. She noticed things he never saw: the strip of paper from a fortune cookie skittering along the street; a lonely button caught in the groove of the sidewalk; a balloon floating away in the sky.
As they ambled along the sidewalk, letting people stream around them, Goldie reached for his hand and pointed across the street. “Look, a pigeon is sitting right on top of that fire hydrant. I wish I could stop and paint it.”
Then she started swinging their hands—and he didn’t stop her. Who is this man and what has he done with Blake, he wondered.
He looked over at Goldie, grinning at the sky, and pulled her to him, kissing her right in the middle of the sidewalk.
When his hands started wandering down her back, he remembered they were in public, and stepped back.
“Wow,” she said, in a husky voice. “That was unexpected. I mean you don’t kiss just anybody in the middle of the sidewalk.” Her eyes sparkled. “It’s kind of special, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is.”
They walked in silence to the restaurant. Blake didn’t know what to say about what was happening between them. He didn’t know if it was real, or the result of their ruse.
They ordered champagne at dinner to celebrate her art show at the bakery the next day, but neither one talked about what was going to happen Monday when he went back to work. They hadn’t talked about their impending break up in a few days.
***
The next morning, Goldie had eaten more passion bread at the Naughty and Nice bakery than she cared to admit, but so far, she’d made zero sales. The bakery customers were too busy sampling the goodies, looking straight past her work.
She rearranged the paintings one more time, hoping the new layout would catch someone’s eye. Then the bell on the door jingled and Blake and his mother walked in. Her heart kicked up, nervous that they’d be surveying her work, but also thrilled to see him again. And it had only been four hours since she left his apartment.
Or maybe it was the passion bread kicking in.
“Nicole, how are sales? These are beautiful,” his mother cooed, immediately drawn to one she’d painted in the park.
“It’s been going okay,” she lied.
Blake stood, examining at her work. “Would a few of these would add a little personality to my apartment?”
She laughed. “A few paint samples would add a little personality to your apartment.”
He tried to look angry, but she saw the corners of his mouth twitch. He strolled through the bakery checking out the paintings. She was as self-conscious as if they were nude pictures of herself hung on the wall.
His mother picked out two of the framed paintings, and Blake hovered in front of the series she did at the cabin. He turned to her. “I want all of these you did up in the mountains.”
Mentally doing the math, she silently squealed over the sales. But then she realized as his supposed girlfriend, she would be expected to give them to him. Truth was, she owed him. She could think of it as payment for room and board. “Oh, honey, you can just take them if you want them.” She twisted her hands behind her back.
Shaking her head, his mother put her hand on her hip. “Nicole, real artists don’t give their work away, not even to loved ones. We’ll pay for these like your regular customers. And I simply must talk to my friend about setting up a show at her gallery. Oh, and the prince’s ball! He lives in Blake’s building and I’ve already contacted his assistant to inform him you’ll be donating a piece for his charity auction to benefit the hospital. Blake will be taking you, of course.” She gripped Goldie’s arm and lowered her voice. “You’re going to make incredible contacts there.”
“Great idea, Mom,” Blake said.
The bell jangled on the door again, and she was feeling lucky enough to believe she could score another sale.
When she saw who it was, she froze; it was Gloria Midas. Her sister, Veronica, worked at the bakery. Gloria apparently liked to hang around looking for freebie cupcakes. Gloria Midas certainly wouldn’t be buying any paintings.
Goldie had the misfortune of meeting her a few days earlier while scouting out the location for setting up her work. And Gloria had noticed the apartment sitter flyers she’d hung up as well. “I’m never going to work,” Gloria had said, inspecting the flyer. “Unless you call finding a husband work.” Then she cackled.
Now, Gloria clicked across the floor in her high heels and cocked her head, looking at Goldie’s paintings. “You’ve still got a lot of stock here. If you don’t sell anything, are you going to have to start working here?”
Blake’s mother chuckled. “My dear, Nicole is a lawyer and an artist. She doesn’t need to work here. Painting is her hobby and she’s quite good at it.”
Gloria looked stunned, then laughed. “Nicole? You’re kidding, right? Goldie is an apartment sitter on a good day, and a struggling artist who crashes with her friends on the rest.”
His mother’s hand hovered over her mouth. “Blake?”
Blake looked ready to defend her. But this was Goldie’s chance to make everything right for him. As her heart sunk, she took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Blake, it’s true. I’ve lied to you. I’m not who you think I am.” It hurt as much to say it, as if she were truly revealing a lie.
He took a step toward her. “Don’t do this…”
She
couldn’t bear to hear what he’d say. Gathering her purse, she dashed out the door, realizing all her things were still at his place. Didn’t matter. She’d stay at Ariel’s and arrange to get her things later, then pick up her artwork another day.
She’d left things behind before during her stays: socks, barrettes, and toothbrushes.
But never her heart.
***
Blake paid for his paintings, and his mother’s, too. They left the store quickly before that horrible woman could make any more accusations.
“What was that all about?” his mother asked. “That woman was lying about Nicole, right? Right?” She sounded desperate.
He looked up at the sky. This was exactly what he wanted. He could pretend to be devastated by this news, and keep his mother off his back for a while. But in all honesty, he was devastated. He liked Goldie. A lot. And he was interested in seeing where this could go with her.
His mother stopped walking and grabbed his arm. “Blake, what’s going on?”
“Mom, come back to my place and I’ll explain everything.”
***
His mother sat in stunned silence as he explained how Goldie came to be his “girlfriend.”
She rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was putting so much pressure on you.” She sighed. “The thing is, I really like Nicole—I mean, Goldie—even if she isn’t a lawyer. And I like what she’s done for you. You’re happier and more relaxed.”
He nodded. “I know. Everything has changed since she showed up.”
“Go get her, Blake. Don’t let her go.”
The thing was, he didn’t know where to find her.
Fortunately, she called to get her things the next day. “Goldie, we need to talk.”
“About what? I’m sure that got your mother off your back in a real hurry.”
“Come over. Let’s talk. I want you to see how your paintings look hanging in my apartment.”
“That’s really kind of you, but let’s just cut our losses and move on.”
“I’m not ready to move on.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not sure. I just know the thought of you leaving my life hurts. And Miss Sniggles will miss you like crazy.”
She was quiet for a long moment and he felt hopeful. Then she said, “Blake, it’ll never work. I’m not from your world—unless I’m crashing in it, or babysitting a dog. Your toaster probably costs more than everything I own. I’m sorry. I’ve got to get my life together. Goodbye, Blake. And thank you for everything. I’ll be over tomorrow to get my suitcases.”
***
Being back at Ariel’s was only a temporary situation. With the earnings from her art sale and a job—location yet to be determined—she should be able to get her own place in three months.
She dreaded seeing Blake, but she would be as quick as possible, like she was pulling off a Band-Aid. Hopefully, the same theory applied for pulling someone out of your heart.
Turned out, it wasn’t a problem; he wasn’t there when she showed up. His mother answered the door. “Oh, hello. Blake just dashed out.”
Goldie’s heart sank, not only because secretly she had wanted to see him, but because she couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his mother’s eyes, hear the disapproval in her voice.
“I’m just going to quickly gather my things.” She headed for the bedroom, but Mrs. Behr stopped her.
“Not so fast,” she said.
Here it comes. Well, she deserved it. She raised her head to face her.
There was concern in Mrs. Behr’s eyes. “Why are you doing this? I know you and Blake care deeply about each other. Anyone could see that.”
Goldie steeled herself. “But it was just a charade. I’m not who you thought I was.”
“You weren’t deceiving Blake. You were helping him deceive me, and I can get over that. I was hard on him.”
Miss Sniggles came tearing out of her room and pranced around Goldie’s feet, which certainly didn’t help. She reached down and scratched the dog’s ear, unwilling to pick her up. “He’s a lawyer. I’m practically homeless. He needs a different kind of girl.”
His mother shook his head. “You’re creative and brave. You followed your dreams when no one else believed in you. Me? I gave up my art the first time someone disapproved. Blake abandoned his love of writing when I expressed my concern. But you have passion and commitment. Blake is different because of you. He’s a better person; he’s truer to himself. This apartment, all these things he has are nice. But they don’t make him happy.” She pointed at her. “You do.”
Goldie shook her head, and caught her thumbs in the belt loops on her jeans. “I have to get my act together before I could try a relationship with him. I’ve been living a vagabond life. It’s embarrassing, looking back now. I can’t just move in with him and pick up where we left off. He’d always wonder if I was just with him because it was convenient.”
His mother sighed. “So you have something to prove. I can understand that.”
Goldie made her way to the bedroom, with the dog on her heels. Tears welled in her eyes when she saw her paintings hung in the hall; they looked perfect, like they belonged there. Too bad she didn’t.
She jammed her things in her suitcases, picked up his robe and smelled him one more time, then left the room.
His mother was waiting at the door for her. She handed her a business card. “Stop by this boutique. I bought a dress for you that will be perfect for the prince’s ball. But of course, if you don’t like it, you can choose something else.”
Goldie stared at the card. “I don’t understand. Why would I be going to the ball with Blake now?”
“You’re not. You’re going as the artist who donated a beautiful painting for the charity auction. And all my friends are going to be there, and they’re simply dying to talk to you about commissions for their home. I’d be terribly embarrassed if I had to tell them you weren’t coming now.”
She shook her head. “You’re just being kind. I’m not so sure I can make a living from my art. You and Blake were just being nice buying my stuff.”
Mrs. Behr put her hand on her hip. “Goldie, after you left, someone came and bought all your work.”
“One person? Who?”
“The owner’s grandmother, Kate Robinson. She loved your work. She’ll be at the ball, too, and wants to meet you. And of course, her granddaughter, Rose, will be there with her boyfriend. He’s my personal trainer, you know. Come on. It’ll be fun!”
Goldie frowned. “Will Blake be there?”
His mother shook her head. “I’m not sure. But you’ll come, right?”
“You’ve been so wonderful to me. Of course I will.”
***
Mrs. Behr had picked out a beautiful strapless dress of midnight blue for Goldie. As she turned to inspect herself in the mirror, she realized she’d never worn anything so stunning. The cost of the dress would probably cover rent for a month at a small studio apartment, but she was determined to enjoy herself and be a professional. She couldn’t pass up this opportunity to make some new clients and sock away some money.
Later that night, on the elevator ride up to the penthouse of Grimm Towers, her fingers shook as she gripped her clutch, loaded with business cards she’d just had made. When the elevator zoomed past the seventh floor, she thought of Blake and sighed.
She spotted a uniformed butler standing outside a door and presumed it was the prince’s place. He welcomed her and opened the door for her. She was hit by sudden wave of nerves. All these important people; all these rich people. Would they know she was a fraud?
She scanned the ornate ballroom, bigger than she could’ve imagined would be in an apartment. Classical music played, waiters circulated with champagne and hors d’oeuvres. An elaborate display was filled with whimsical cupcakes and desserts. Goldie spotted Rose from the bakery and rushed over, pleased to see someone she knew.
&n
bsp; “How did you land this gig?”
Rose grinned. “The prince loves our Sea Goddess muffins.” She frowned. “Although he didn’t order any for the party.” She shrugged. “Hey, I’ve got loads of money for you from you art sale. Stop by Monday and I’ll pay you.” She pulled a handsome man toward her. “Let me introduce my boyfriend, Jack Wolff.”
She shook hands with a gorgeous, buff man and wondered how much passion bread she’d plied him with; he looked utterly smitten with her.
Then three women in aprons hurried over. Rose sighed. “Ladies, I need you to man the table so I can circulate and talk with the guests.”
Goldie willed her jaw not to drop. Veronica and Gloria scurried behind the table, aprons tied on over their elegant dresses. “Hello, Gloria. I didn’t know you’d be here. Working,” Goldie added. “Have you taken on a part-time job?”
Gloria stuck her nose in the air. “My mother, sister, and I are volunteering.”
Goldie nodded, “Oh, I see.”
“Of course, we didn’t realize that until we got here,” their mother said through her teeth.
Veronica dusted her hands. “I said I could get you into the ball, I guess I forgot to mention that small detail.” She winked at Goldie.
Veronica’s mother hissed at her. “Take off your apron. Here comes Jeremy James. You can’t give up on him yet.”
Veronica rolled her eyes. “Mother, when the right guy comes along, I’ll know. And Jeremy is not the right guy for me.”
“And just what are you going to do until then?” her mother asked.
“Work at the bakery. Go to cooking school.” She shrugged as Jeremy and his girlfriend approached.
Goldie did a double take. “Shawna White? From Central High? Is that you?”
Shawna squealed and hugged Goldie. “You look great. I heard you were in the city working as an artist. I ran into your mother at the grocery store last time I was home. She’s so proud of you chasing your dreams in the city.” Then she twisted her lips, uncertain. “But she wants you to get your cello out of her house.”
Goldie laughed. “Thanks for the tip. How are you?”
