Lace and Paint (True Colors Book 1)

by Ally Sky

  “Absolutely.”

  “Yeah, and anyway, the sooner you go, the smaller the scar you’ll have. Really. A friend of mine had her chin cut open and, to this day, she’s sorry she waited.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, she has a really ugly scar. But you’re a guy. I’m sure it doesn’t matter to you.” I shrug again.

  Come on, go already… While the day is still salvageable!“Maybe I should go. You know, so that Ben and John will be happy.”

  Thank God! What twenty-one-year-old guy wants an ugly scar on his face?

  John comes out again and lights another cigarette. I look at Ronnie expectantly. Ugh, he’s as stubborn as they said he was.

  “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea, seeing a doctor,” he finally mumbles and John looks at him in surprise.

  What were those two wasting their time on? It was really easy convincing him.

  “Really? You want to go to the A&E?”

  “I think so. It’s probably nothing. But maybe once the doctor confirms it, you’ll chill.”

  John turns to me, but I don’t give anything away. I just shrug again. At this rate, I’ll be demanding a serious shoulder massage from my man this evening.

  “Let’s go.” John signals to Ronnie to follow him. They put out their cigarettes and go inside. I lie back and hear the front door opening and closing. I understand my man has left. Danny looks out from the house.

  “Everything okay?” He smiles at me, but looks concerned.

  “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” I smile back at him.

  “Okay. I’m going to Tesco. Do you need anything?”

  “No, but if you wait fifteen minutes, I’ll come with you.”

  “Great, I’m going to change clothes,” he says and disappears into the house. I get up and follow him.

  My thoughts are somewhere between the emergency room and a birthday party for a pair of two-year-olds. I can imagine the balloons hanging high above the green lawn, two cakes, a pile of presents, and a green-eyed man rolling on the grass, having fun with his niece and nephew. If that witch hadn’t done what she had, it could’ve been his child rolling around with him—his child and hers.

  Danny and I fill up the cart with groceries for the upcoming week.

  “So what’s happening with Tom?” Danny puts a six-pack of beer in the cart and pushes it down the aisle.

  “Not much,” I answer, trying not to give too much detail.

  “Why haven’t you brought him to meet us yet?” He continues pushing the cart and we stop in front of the large shelf of bread.

  “I don’t know. It just hasn’t worked out. You know, he works until late and I’m not sure we’re at that stage already.”

  “That stage?”

  “Yes, you know, supper with my older and overprotective brother. I don’t want you to scare him off.”

  “Yeah, I guess I really can be scary.”

  “Right.”

  “How’s it going at work?” He’s interested, and I realize it’s been a while since we’ve had time to just sit and talk. I’ve been busy in the basement or sneaking off to Ben’s house, and he’s been busy at work, barely making it home in time for supper.

  “I think it’s going well,” I reply. Obviously I don’t tell him I have precise, inside information about what my boss thinks of me.

  “I’m glad. It seems as if your life is heading in the right direction.” He’s pleased, and I’m not sure whether he’s right or wrong.

  The truth is, I’m not getting enough sleep and I’m probably drinking too much, but in spite of that, my life is in some kind of a routine.

  But I also know my demons are stirring behind the scenes, and that the complicated situation with Ben isn’t helping much. I know myself well enough to know I’m on the edge. One slight movement could throw me up or down, and I have no way of knowing what it’ll be.

  “I’m glad Ronnie agreed to go the hospital.” I change the subject. Danny doesn’t need to know what’s going on inside my head.

  “Yes, it was a rough morning.” He exhales in relief. I can just imagine.

  “So, what, he just came knocking on your door?” I ask in an attempt to understand the sequence of events.

  “Yes, he got us out of bed at nine,” he replies.

  I also woke up at nine, although not where he thinks I did.

  “Okay, I think we’re done here. Let’s go home and find out how many people I’m cooking supper for tonight.” I grin, not sure if Ben will be joining us. A slight feeling of disappointment creeps in because my day with him was interrupted. I would much rather eat supper with Ben on his comfortable sofa, watch a movie on television with him, and then fall asleep in his bed.

  Okay, I have to calm down. I’m starting to think like a sweet, little housewife. And he’s not into that, other than the part about the bed. So no ideas about romantic suppers at his house or my heart really will shatter into pieces.

  We pay, pack the groceries, and walk home.

  Danny’s phone rings just as we enter the house. He answers as I start filling up the fridge and cupboards.

  “It’s for you. Ben needs help with something.” He’s holding out his phone and my heart skips a beat. Ben needs help with something? And he told Danny? I’m confused.

  “Hello?” I answer formally.

  “Hi, did I surprise you with my phone call?” I can picture him smiling on the other side, but my face stays impassive in front of Danny, who’s looking at me curiously.

  “Yes.”

  “Is Danny still next to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Listen, we’re still here and I need help. Do you think you could pop over to Hamleys to buy the twins birthday presents? They close at six, and I don’t think I’m going to make it.”

  Wow, birthday presents for the twins? What do I know about two-year-olds?

  “Do you have any idea what?” I’m looking at Danny, who’s still looking at me.

  “No, but I’m sure you’ll find something,” he laughs.

  “Okay, I’ll go there now,” I reply.

  “You’re a savior. I’ll see what time I finish here and then we’ll see whether I’ll come to you, or you may have to bring the presents to me.” I can literally hear him smiling.

  I actually like the second idea—a great excuse to go to his.

  “Okay, talk to you later,” I answer formally and end the call, giving the phone back to Danny.

  “What does he want from you? Something work-related?”

  “No, it seems that his brother’s twins have a birthday. He needs help with the presents.” I pretend to be busy sorting out the fridge.

  “Oh, good thing he asked you and not me.”

  “Yeah,” I mumble.

  I finish sorting out all the groceries, grab my purse, and take the tube to Regent Street.

  At the entrance to Hamleys, I ask myself how I am supposed to know what to look for. There are five floors filled with every imaginable toy and game.

  I begin wandering around the huge shop and imagine being a child and walking around here for hours. But I’m not a child anymore, just a twenty-six-year-old woman, with no kids of her own, who has no idea what two-year-olds like. Eventually, I see what I’m looking for: a big sand-and-water activity table that can be put in the backyard. It’s written here that it’s suitable for two-year-olds but it’s huge. How will I be able to get it out of here?

  I take out my mobile and send Ben a message.

  17:47

  Where are you?

  I’m thinking about a solution, when Ben gets back to me.

  “Hello,” I answer formally. I need to be cautious, he may not be alone.

  “Hi. What’s happening?”

  “Everything is fine. Where are you?”

  “We’ve just finished now. It took so long. John will tell you about it at home. Where are you?”

  “Hamleys. Do you have the car?”

  “It’s in the hospital parking lot.”


  “Can you come over here and pick me up? The present you bought for the twins is big,” I say with a laugh.

  “Really?” He laughs back.

  “Yes, it’s very cool. You’ll be their favorite uncle in the whole world.” I’m pleased with myself.

  “Okay, I’ll fetch you from the shop. Can you wait outside in twenty minutes?”

  “Yes. I’m going to go now and spend your money.”

  “Okay, twenty minutes.” He hangs up and I realize he never asked me how much the present costs. I hope I’m not going to get into trouble with him. It costs one hundred and ten pounds.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m standing in front of the store as the silver Porsche pulls up and Ben jumps out. He’s momentarily speechless when he sees me standing there with the monstrous box between my legs.

  “Wow! What did I buy them?” he jokes.

  “A sand-and-water table for the backyard.” I smile widely, pleased with my choice.

  “That’s pretty cool.” He loads the box into the car and I get into the passenger seat. Ben climbs into the car and turns to me.

  “Where are John and Ronnie?” I ask.

  “In John’s car.” He smiles at me.

  How stupid of me. Of course, there’s only room for two in Ben’s car.

  “It’s just you and me, kiddo.” He teases me, and I grin broadly. I have the pleasure of spending a few more minutes alone with him.

  “Just you and me.” I’m ecstatic. Ben leans over to me, catching me off guard, and presses his lips to mine. I feel his tongue in my mouth and his hands in my curls.

  After a moment, he pulls away, a silly grin on his face.

  “Are you ready for the show, Miss Blum?”

  “Absolutely, Mr. Storm.”

  Ben accelerates and slips into the traffic with ease.

  When we enter the house, Ronnie is sitting on the sofa. He has a big bandage on his nose. John and Danny are sitting next to the black, marble island.

  “How was the outing?” I ask John.

  “Long. The guy broke his nose,” John smiles tiredly. He seems glad the day is over.

  “Can I pamper you with supper?” I ask.

  I’m in a good mood. I just bought a present for Ben’s niece and nephew and I kissed him in the car.

  “Do you feel like cooking?” John asks hesitantly.

  How can I not cook for him after such a long day?

  “Yeah, I’m happy to. We’ll throw something on the grill and have a few beers.” I think that’s the best way to end the evening, plus it’s an offer Ben won’t want to refuse.

  “Excellent, I’m knackered,” he agrees and I turn to Ben, who’s talking to Ronnie in the living room.

  “Are you staying for supper?”

  “Of course, why not? After a day like today, beer and meat sound great,” he answers formally, but I’m content. I’m willing to continue with this charade all evening if it means him being here.

  We spend the evening on the patio. I try not to steal looks at my man, not to stare at his soft hair, which I love caressing so much at night, and not to get lost in his eyes.

  Several schemes are running around my head as I try to think of a way to sneak out to his house again tonight.

  At nine thirty, the men go their separate ways. Ronnie says goodbye to me with a painful smile and Ben leaves with a cold and formal goodbye, which makes me want to laugh.

  John and Danny retreat to their bedroom and I lie on my bed, after having washed all the plates in the kitchen. I send a message to Ben.

  21:39

  When are you leaving tomorrow?

  21:40

  Early in the morning. I have a few things to do at home before the party.

  21:42

  Can I see you tonight?

  21:43

  Not tonight, beautiful. It’s been a long day

  By the way, how much did the present cost me?

  My heart clenches in disappointment. Once again, he’s told me not to come. It really was a long day, and I totally understand him. He probably wants to shower and go to bed early, and it’s obvious to both of us what’ll happen if I go there. I just wanted to see him so much. I send a message back.

  21:45

  110. You’re a very generous uncle.

  I wake up in bed and look at the clock. It’s four in the morning. I’m wide awake. Why am I waking up so early? I know myself and I know I won’t be able to get back to sleep. I go down to the basement, put the music on low, and get addicted to the feelings. I paint like I haven’t painted for ages—I paint love.

  Sitting on the patio Monday evening, I put my laptop on my knees and go into my blog.

  A response from Carrie Bradshaw: You are wasting your time. Find yourself another drug.

  I smile. That’s not going to happen. But it’s nice to see you’re still around, Carrie.

  A response from Beverly B: He’s so annoying! You need to tell him how you feel. He’s an idiot if he doesn’t snatch you up. And if not, at least you’ll know he’s not leading you on, he’s just not interested. Is he really that hot?

  Yes, he really is that hot. And no, I have no intention of saying anything to him, even though I have a feeling he already knows how I feel. We lie in his bed and talk for hours into the night. He listens to all the stories I tell him. He enjoys laughing at me quite a bit. I get annoyed and snap at him, but that only makes him laugh even more. And I love it. I would readily accept him annoying me like that for the rest of my life.

  A response from Juliet: I am mad about you! Your writing is amazing! And thanks for not sparing us all the juicy details Forget all the nonsense; if the sex with him is so great (I loved the trick with the showerhead…) don’t let him go anywhere!

  I blush when I think about it. I’ve received quite a few responses about the showerhead.

  I finish reading by nine thirty and decide to log into the blog’s statistics to see how many people have read it in the past few days. I press on the correct square. Okay, let’s see what we have here.

  No way… Seriously? There’s no way I have so many readers. I mean so, so, so many readers: 16,493 to be exact.

  The numbers have gone crazy.

  Maybe I should write to them again about it. These numbers can’t be right. Okay, maybe tomorrow I’ll check the statistics again.

  I go into Facebook and send a short message to my man, who probably hasn’t thought about me all day.

  Talia Blum: I hope the present was a success and you enjoyed seeing your family. Good night.

  I wait only a minute to give him a chance to answer. I stare at the screen, waiting for the sign in the corner to turn red, letting me know I have a new message.

  He doesn’t disappoint.

  Ben Storm: I am the most wonderful uncle in the world. Thanks to you I had a great day.

  Talia Blum: I’m glad to hear. Did you stay the night?

  He opens a chat box and replies straightaway.

  Ben Storm: Yes. We drank, and I didn’t think it was responsible for me to drive in my condition.

  Talia Blum: Glad to hear.

  I’m glad he didn’t drive drunk all the way to London, but I’m totally disappointed I won’t see him tonight.

  Ben Storm: Your present was perfect. You should have seen the twins.

  Talia Blum: I don’t usually crash parties I wasn’t invited to…

  Ben Storm: Just meetings that you impulsively cancel?

  Talia Blum: Hey! I haven’t done that for quite a while! Don’t encourage me.

  Ben Storm: I’m not. In spite of that unforgettable dress you wore to Hawksmoor.

  That dress! I knew it was a success!

  Talia Blum: I can wear it again just for you

  Ben Storm: Sounds good. And in a moment of banality, what did you do today?

  Talia Blum: A banal answer to a banal question—I worked for you and painted and wrote. As usual.

  Ben Storm: Nothing about you is banal.

  Tal
ia Blum: Flatterer.

  Ben Storm: Absolutely. Did you write something good?

  Talia Blum: Maybe…

  Ben Storm: Your mysterious blog again…

  Talia Blum: My mysterious and faulty blog.

  Ben Storm: ?

  Talia Blum: The numbers have gone completely nuts.

  Ben Storm: How come?

  Talia Blum: 16,493. LOL.

  Ben Storm: How many?!

  Talia Blum: 16,493. It’s not a typo, at least not mine.

  Ben Storm: Wow.

  Talia Blum: Yes. Does it make sense to you that so many people read my pathetic blog?

  Ben Storm: If you write like the piece I read in the park, then yes.

  Talia Blum: Then you’re faulty just like my blog. Don’t worry, we’ll fix you in no time.

  Ben Storm: Really? And how do you plan on doing that?

  Talia Blum: You’ll have to wait and see.

  Ben Storm: I’m dying to see.

  Talia Blum: I’m not dying to wait…

  Ben Storm: What’s the matter? Do you miss me?