Splash

by Kristen Kelly

  Hard as I tried to not look in that direction, his bare legs caught my notice. Their strong muscular shape. The way the kilt dusted the tiny space above his knee socks. I actually stumbled over the last thing I was going to say, sending a ruffle of laughter through the crowd once again. I took a deep breath, looking at my notes. Why the hell was I getting flustered over a complete stranger?

  After my speech about each individual artist’s life, the man disappeared and I forgot all about him. It was time to wrap it up. Time for the real show to begin.

  “Um, Liz…” Maura called from the back of the room. She was holding a large wrapped canvas. “We forgot this one. I found it by the door.” Carrying the canvas she walked up the steps of the stage, grinning like she had some sort of secret to share with me. I stared at her, expectant, taking the canvas in my possession.

  “I don’t know who the artist is,” I whispered, covering the mike with my hand this time.

  “Oh, you will,” Maura assured me.

  “Okay. Whatever. Can someone get me another easel?”

  One of my artist’s husbands, brought me another easel. He set it up beside me on the stage.

  “Well, seems we’re all in luck,” I said. “I’m not even sure who the artist is, boys and girls.”

  Maura appeared at my side with a pair of scissors and an exactor knife. The two of us, along with a drum roll from someone’s cell phone, unmasked the last and final painting. Everyone oohed and ahhed and then and then everyone applauded.

  Everyone but me. “What the…? Where did this come from?”

  There were gasps from the audience and just a few people tilting their heads as if trying to decide whether the work had merit or not, but all in all, I got a pretty affirmative response from the crowd.

  As I stared at the painting, my heart dropped in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. The last time I felt this way was after the wind was knocked out of me after trying to surf for the first time. I had no explanation then, because I didn’t see the wave coming. And I had no explanation now.

  I searched the crowd looking for my gift bearer.

  The Highlander! It was him.

  Chapter TWENTY SIX

  Damon

  My breath went stone cold as I realized someone had given her the painting.

  My painting.

  Good lord, what was I thinking? I’d wrapped the darn thing so fast, encased it in bubble wrap then a thick coarse canvas over that for protection, I hadn’t stopped to think what it would mean to have Delia revealed for the world to see.

  Exposed.

  In all her glory. Naked as the day she was born.

  Liz and her associate had unwrapped the damn thing. Completely. She’d not only taken it out of its protective casings, but someone had set it upon an easel on the podium right beside her. And she was talking about it. Explaining who my grandmother was in full descriptive detail, right down to her five muses, a story I knew nothing about. Told Liz, but never me. Part of me was sad. Another was angry. But the painting was good. Really good!

  Of course, I’d seen the painting before, marveled at how talented the artist was. How lifelike. Even though she’d painted her with white hair, the rest of the painting was on fire. Youthful. Energized. The real Delilah. The rendition of her was amazing! How perfectly she’d captured the essence of my shamefully sexy grandmother showed how very intimate they’d become in their relationship. In the way only two women could know each other.

  I looked around the room.

  Mrs. Lucy Delaney, my DD, blended in beautifully with the rest of the artwork. Each and every one of the pieces had some element of sexuality portrayed. I wondered if Delia had ever seen the portrait herself. Had she liked it and how had Liz kept it such a secret from me? A small part of me was jealous. Secrets. There were always secrets.

  Liz covered the painting back up, saying that particular work was not for sale. She ended with a smile, an invite for refreshments, and a cash bar to everyone in the room. There was something different about her. A confidence I’d not seen before. She looked…in command of her own world. Yes, that was it. She commanded this room. And my heart to beat again as well.

  I watched her leave the podium. Watched how her shimmering auburn hair fell about her shoulders. The slight bounce of her full breasts. The larger than life sparkling green eyes as she looked over the room. Searching. My cock twitched when she looked in my direction. I stayed in the shadows, not sure of what to do next. I didn’t have a clue.

  When she disappeared in the back hallway all I could think was she’s getting away. I know it was silly. Where would she go? She had a show to run for Christ’s sake, but it was clear that the painting had completely thrown her off balance. I went after her, but I stayed back, out of sight as the woman who’d stopped me at the door, also went after her. The woman paused. She glanced back at me, then ahead to her friend, and then followed her into the ladies room.

  Shit. Now what was I going to do? Wait, you idiot. Listen to what Delilah was trying to tell you. If she thought you were ready for all this six months ago, she wouldn’t have made you wait.

  Finding the painting had made it clear, Liz was the one. The one for me. The only one. And my grandmother had known it.

  So I stood there, outside the little door with the silhouette of a ladies’ hat hand-painted on it, feeling a heating duck blow hot air up my kilt. I was glad I’d opted for more yards of tartan making my kilt heavier. Maybe the hardon I was sporting could be concealed, instead of making a ridiculous tent I couldn’t hide.

  I thought of our time together, the sweet candy-coated scent of her skin, the glitter of firelight eyes when I touched her skin bronzed to copper in the summer sun. I thought of waking up in her arms, conversations we’d had. When my mind strayed to our time in the sex room, which was a mistake, my cock went rock hard. I couldn’t stand still any longer. With no one within earshot, this was my opportunity. I was going to take it.

  Feeling like the biggest creep on the planet, I snuck inside, and shut the door, grateful for the tiny entranceway that kept me hidden. Once, I flattened myself against the wall, I didn’t move.

  I heard every word.

  “I know she was your friend, Liz but, she was an old woman. Pardon me for stating the obvious, but we all have to die sometimes.”

  “That’s not what’s upsetting me,” Liz said.

  “Okay then what?”

  “He’s here, Maura! He’s here and he looks so good. The one time in my life I manage to get over someone without making a huge mistake... Why did he have to look like that!? ”

  “But you are over him…Right?”

  “Well…”

  “Come on, Liz. We talked about this. Remember? Stiff upper lip, as the Brits say.”

  I heard giggling as I imagined the woman physically trying to push Liz’s lips into a smile. “Now wipe away those tears and smile. Oh come on! You’re at your very first art show! This is your dream! Your baby. Don’t let some asshole destroy that for you.”

  Asshole?!

  “I can’t help it,” Liz whined. “What if he’s the one, Maura? What if I blew it with the one man in the universe I’m supposed to be with for the rest of my life?”

  “Is that really how you feel?”

  “Yes. No! I don’t know. Jason says I’m a lousy judge of men, and he’s right. Or I think he’s right, so how would I know, Maura? How would I know?”

  My hands tightened into fists, as I thought of Jason, my former friend. He’d told me much the same thing at one point in our relationship. Judging by the way I’d actually helped him set up that blind date at the club—like a fool, I’d actually believed him.

  “Screw, Jason, Liz!”

  Huh. Now, I’m starting to like this woman.

  “Screw them all.”

  Ok, maybe not.

  “Why not be like me? Single and fancy free. Forever. I don’t need a man. Never have. Never will.”

  “Maura�
��”

  “Oh god, you have that look.”

  “Maura, I think I love him.”

  “Liz, sweetie, you’ve come so far. Can’t you just be happy? I want you happy, Liz. Look at what you’ve accomplished today.”

  “I know but...”

  “And so help me, if you do something stupid again, I’ll kill you myself!”

  I heard a light chuckle. “Don’t worry. I have my head on straight. I know I can be happy on my own but... It’s just…he does something to me, ya know. What if things had played out differently? If Jake had never shown up. If Delilah had never given me the Club…God, it became such a mess in the end.” I heard sniffling. “And he’s here, Maura! He’s really here. What the hell do I say to him after what I’ve done?”

  “What you’ve done! All you did was accept a gift from a wealthy old woman. There’s no crime in that.”

  “It wasn’t the way he saw it.”

  “Well, maybe he sees it different now. Are you going to talk to him?”

  “I’m not sure I can, besides he probably just came to give me the painting, right? He tried to do that before.”

  “He did?”

  “Yeah, and I told him to keep it.”

  “Well, I guess he didn’t listen.”

  “Right, and it is my painting. I guess he must have read about the show and thought, hey, she needs this and it’s just lying around here so…”

  “I don’t know. Seems like a lot of trouble to give you something you said you didn’t want, but I guess… I guess that sounds reasonable. I can see you’re not going to rest until something here is resolved. Christ, you’re worse than I am when it comes to men.”

  “Maybe it runs in the family.”

  “God, I hope not. So…you want to get this over with, right? We can’t hide in the bathroom all day. It’s now or never.”

  “Right.” A long pause.

  “What’s wrong now?”

  “What if he hates me?”

  “Then I think you need to find out if that’s true. Okay, how about this? Let’s rehearse what you would say.”

  “Yes! That’s a terrific idea.”

  “Okay, tell me what you’re feeling.”

  I tried not to breathe, wanting to here every word of their conversation.

  “This is only hypothetical, right ? I’ll probably never tell him all this.”

  “Whatever. Just spill it. You’ll feel better after you get it off your chest.”

  “Maybe.”

  I wished I could get closer. I wanted to see the sincerity in her emerald eyes, smell the spiciness of her skin, cup her chin in my hand while she revealed the true nature of her feelings for me. But more than that, I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her, feel her yield against me. I wanted to I lift my kilt and...

  “Oh god, I look a wreck,” Liz said.

  I imagined her gazing into a mirror.

  “And my armpits smell.”

  “Take off your blouse, dab some water under your arms with a paper towel.”

  Fuck! My cock stirred.

  I was kicking myself for not wearing proper boxers. The loose fitting briefs gave too much room stimulation. Luckily I was distracted by something tickling inside my nose.

  “Geeze, I can see right through your blouse.” Maura giggled. “Good thing he’s not in here with us.

  My nostrils flared. A vision of Liz’s gorgeous pink tits blossomed in my head. Both of them.

  “Good enough. Give me the blouse.”

  “I can’t go out there, Maura. I can’t face him.”

  “So tell me what you would say if you weren’t so scared. If you were sure he felt the same way. If you had nothing in the world to lose. Not your self-respect. Nothing.”

  “Okay.”

  And it was at the precise time, my nose decided to do its thing.

  I let out the loudest, most echoing horrific sound ever known to man. When I sneezed; it echoed in that tiny room and rippled along the walls.

  There was no place for me to hide. Not now.

  Chapter TWENTY SEVEN

  Liz

  “Damon…?”

  Before I could say a word, Maura took it upon herself to chastise Damon in the worst possible way. “And another thing,” she was shouting. “If you ever come around my cousin again, I’ll be the one to press charges on your sorry ass, and I’ll ruin that stupid ridiculous Club of yours which we both know is nothing but a front for whatever illegal things you have going on. I’m a lawyer. I can make things happen Mister. So don‘t forget that. Think you’re above the law because you have money? Think again. I know about all those kiddies too. I’ll bet there’s plenty you’re trying to hide. Child labor? Porn? Whatever it is. You and your hoity, toity club over there can just…”

  Hoity, toity?

  I shot Maura a what the fuck look and she grinned, giving me a half-hearted shrug.

  “Why are you doing here?” I asked Damon.

  “I brought you the painting.”

  Maura jumped in front of me. “Not what she meant. What…are…you…doing in the ladies room, you jerk off?” Maura punctuated every syllable with a finger on his massive deliciously hard chest.

  For some reason he was smiling, staring at me with the most tender expression, apparently not bothered by Maura’s interrogation. He wore a black wool bolero jacket fastened with gold buttons, a green, gold, and tan tartan kilt, and lace-up brogue shoes with white knee socks. On any other man, I would not have been impressed, but on Damon….

  Damon looked at me imploringly with those gorgeous sea-water blue eyes. The eyes I got lost in. That already owned me. Heart, head, and soul. Of course Maura had no way of knowing how I felt. All she saw was a peeping Tom who had no business listening in on our private conversation. A conversation about him.

  He tried to explain himself to us, but every time he opened his mouth, Maura went off on another tangent. Finally he grabbed her arm. “We need to talk to Liz. Is that too much to ask?”

  I looked down at the hand on my arm. When he let go Maura muttered, “I don’t think she has anything to say to you.”

  Before I could tell her this was about me and not her, Damon shook his head, turned on his heel and then walked out the door. As it shut way too quickly, it froze the ice around my heart. The words inside my throat. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think.

  All I could do was stare at that grey metal door. Waiting.

  After my brain finally deciphered what just happened, I looked at my cousin for the first time since she’d gone on her rampage, wanting to rip her head off. “What the hell did you do that for? If you had just stopped yelling at him for one fucking second he might have actually told me why he was here. He might have…”

  “Liz…”

  “And now I’ll never know,” I went on. “I’ll never know how he felt about me. Ever! The one chance I had is gone. Gone, Maura! Just like that. It wasn’t your fight. It wasn’t about you, dammit!”

  I was so damn angry, my jaw hurt from clenching my teeth.

  “I just wanted him to…well, do you actually want the ladies room to be the place that you remember being proposed to in?”

  I took a deep breath, trying to process it all. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “I mean, I just wanted him to leave. It’s clear to me why he came here, Liz. The pipe band. The painting. Following us….in here.”

  “Then all that was just to get him to leave?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Oh.”

  “Well…?” Her eyes went round as marbles and she cocked her head toward the door. “Go after him, woman. If you don’t, I will.”

  With one final look in the mirror to make sure I didn’t have raccoon eyes, I bolted through the door and down the hall. When I didn’t see Damon right off, I started to panic. What if he gave up? What if he’d had enough of crazy? He’d told me that once. But had I listened? No. He’d had to deal with my conniving stepfather and Jason was no picnic towa
rd the end. And now Maura who was completely out of control. Lots of people couldn’t take Maura, but we were a package. If he couldn’t take being around my family, how could I expect him to accept me?

  And then I saw him.

  Crouched down on the floor, his back to the wall, the kilt splayed like a fan, strong muscular knees bent upward. As I made my way toward him, he rose, apparently not seeing me, and strode away toward the door. I watched him carefully, wanting to see if he could leave so easily. Walk away from me with not so much as looking back to see if I was coming. If he did, I couldn’t blame him, but I hoped he was tougher than that.

  I didn’t have to wait long. As he got to the door, someone handed him his bagpipes. He paused, looked back toward the podium, straightened his shoulders, and walked out onto the snowy sidewalk.

  I followed him out into the cold windy world, searching up and down the street. Taxi cabs honked. Buses roared, and there were so many people out today, I could barely see anything through the curtain of snow that was falling.

  But he was gone.

  I shouted his name as I ran past the building. Past Macys and a newsstand, I yelled like a mad woman. Over. And over. And over.

  Finally giving up, tears stung my eyes when I realized I’d blown it. I’d never see him again.

  Maneuvering myself through the crowd of people, a couple of venders selling trinkets, woolen hats and bagels on long sticks, I searched up and down 77th street one last time, but Damon was nowhere to be seen.

  Traffic was terrible, and pedestrians littered the sidewalk. I searched and I searched, until my feet and hands were literally freezing.

  I’d not grabbed a coat and went back inside the building. Before I could open the door however, someone opened for me.

  My breath caught. “Damon,” I breathed. “I thought you…”

  He took my green woolen coat and hung it around my shoulders. I swear I was warm within seconds of looking at his face though. “I thought you left. I…?”