“What is going on with them, by the way?” It felt rude to ask, but she was curious. She kept her volume low.
“You didn’t know? Our father was married to Charles’s mother when his mistress became pregnant with Margarite. Father accepted her and brought her into the home, but Charles has always blamed Margarite’s mom for the dissolution of his mother’s marriage. He takes it out on Margarite.”
“But she had no control over that!”
“Her mother died in childbirth, so I think he sees this as the next best thing.”
“How awful.” Tiffany’s head hung in sympathy.
“Yes, it is rather. Why don’t we change to a more pleasant topic?”
Tiffany nodded. The two of them continued chatting all the way to the restaurant. Luke kept the conversation light after that. She wanted to know more about him, but he kept dodging her questions and rerouting the conversation. After lunch, Sergei dropped her off at her apartment.
Tiffany opened the door to get out, but then paused, “Who will I be painting tomorrow?” Her heart pounded strangely in her chest as she looked into Luke’s blue eyes. If she was painting him, she would have an excuse to stare at him more.
“Tomorrow will be Alaric.” The car door closed with a satisfying click behind her. She watched the car’s taillights fade as they turned around the corner. Now that he was gone, Tiffany’s mind cleared a little. She needed to keep her wits about her. She still had four more portraits to do. She couldn’t afford to lose focus now.
Chapter Four: Alaric
The next day, Sergei dropped her off at the Krieger estate again. She had barely reached the front step when a young woman opened the door, “You must be Tiffany!” She threw her arms around Tiffany before she could really prepare herself for what was going on. “I’m Adeline!” The young woman bounced back from her. Her hair was straight and blonde. The blue eyes that looked up at Tiffany were the same shade as Luke’s. Tiffany was silently embarrassed that she had recognized the color of his eyes.
“Hi,” Tiffany smiled back. The girl’s happiness was infectious.
“Come on!” She grabbed Tiffany’s hand and bolted up the stairs. She led her to the studio. Where a young man was standing nervously. “Alaric! This is Tiffany.”
He waved meekly and maintained his stiff posture. Adeline skipped around the studio looking at all of the supplies that were spread out. Tiffany watched the dynamic between the two. It was like night and day.
“We’re twins by the way,” Adeline said as she trailed her fingers across the different chairs. “Fraternal. Mom said I got all the spunk, and Alaric got all the modesty and restraint.”
Tiffany noticed that Alaric still hadn’t said anything. It seemed that most of the Krieger siblings had overwhelming personalities. She chose her words carefully, “Adeline, would it be ok if Alaric and I were alone for the painting process? I work best when it’s just me and the subject. Plus, I want the piece to be a surprise.”
Adeline’s face glowed, “Oh! I love surprises!” She squealed and skipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Once she was sure to be down the hall, Alaric tilted his head at Tiffany, “You knew that was one of the only ways to get her to leave without a struggle.”
“I took a guess.” Tiffany smiled at him. “Which chair do you want.”
Alaric walked along the row of options and selected a simple but dignified white chair. The understated fabric upholstery was beautifully tailored. Alaric lifted it quickly and placed it in the center of the room. He sat down. His shoulders were relaxed, and one of his legs was crossed over the other with the ankle resting on his knee. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Me? Not much to say really. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about you?”
“I’m sure.” His face was kind as he looked at her with eyes that matched his twin sisters. He had a small dimple on his left cheek.
Tiffany thought for a moment, “Well, painting is my life really. I love it. It just doesn’t love me all the time.” She paused. This was a weird conversation to be having with a client. “I take that back, the art loves me. People just don’t always like it enough to pay for it.”
“Luke did, though.”
Alaric’s comment caught her off guard, and she found herself blushing. “Yeah, I guess he did, didn’t he?” She smiled to herself and began to paint the young man in front of her.
“Does he do this kind of thing often? Hire starving artists just for fun?”
“Luke hardly ever does anything for fun.”
“Really?” The statement made Tiffany sad. It made sense. Luke had always seemed very work oriented the few times she had been alone with him. He almost seemed preoccupied with something.
“He likes you.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He never brings girls home.”
Tiffany ducked behind her canvas to hide her red cheeks. “Well, it’s not—I mean—it’s not really like that, though. This is just business.”
“It’s still a big step for him.”
Clearing her throat, and trying to clear her thoughts, Tiffany began to paint. Each stroke of her brush pulled her deeper into her work until all thoughts of Luke were pushed out of her mind. Paint soared across the canvas in sharp, defined waves.
After several hours had passed, Tiffany’s stomach began to growl. There was a knock on the door. Tiffany paused from her painting. Was it Luke again? Her heart beat a little bit faster as the door swung open.
Adeline eased her head into the doorway. She had her hands clasped over her eyes, “I’m not looking. I promise. I just thought you guys might need some food. Do you need a break?”
Tiffany’s heart sank, but she laughed at the girl’s sweetness. “Yeah, we can take a break. I’m almost done.” She brushed her hands on her apron, “Are you hungry, Alaric?”
“Starving.”
Adeline kept her hands over her eyes until they were all out in the hallway and she heard the click of the door closing. “How’s it going in there?”
“I still have a few touches I want to add, and then you can see it.”
The three of them walked down the stairs. “We’re having a picnic. I hope that’s ok.” Adeline led them through the kitchen to a back balcony. The patio furniture had been moved to the side, and a blanket was spread out.
Tiffany stopped just outside of the balcony door. Luke looked up at her from the blanket, “Miss Page, won’t you join us?” The smile on his face made her heart skip a beat.
“Uh, sure.” She tried to focus on breathing normally. The blanket was warm with sunshine, and a butterfly flitted near a flowerbed. Light dappled Tiffany’s legs. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the warmth of the day. It was nice to be outside for a while.
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Luke’s voice was soft. She suddenly became very aware of his presence so close to hers.
“It’s a beautiful day.” She flashed him a smile and popped a grape in her mouth.
Luke squinted at her and thrust his thumb under her chin. He turned her face towards him. Caught off guard, Tiffany’s heart fluttered in her chest. Luke smiled and brushed a finger along her cheek. “You had some paint.” As his head released her and he turned back to watching Adeline frolic through the garden, Tiffany’s heart sank. It was just paint. Of course. She hid her disappointment behind a sandwich and turned away.
Alaric was leaning against the balcony sipping a mimosa quietly. His blonde hair formed a halo in the sunlight. Alaric and Adeline seemed to be the youngest. If Tiffany had to guess, she would say Luke was the oldest followed by Charles and then Margarite. It suddenly struck her that she hadn’t seen any of their mothers, or their father for that matter. Tiffany nibbled her sandwich as she wondered about the missing parents.
“You look lost in thought.” Luke had been watching her.
“Just wondering where your father was. I haven’t seen him around yet.”
“He�
��s away on business. He should be back in a few days.”
“Is that why you had a meeting yesterday? Are you filling in for him here?” She was nosy, but she didn’t care.
“I handle all of the business meetings at the hotel here in town. In another year or two, Charles will take over the German branch, and Margarite will inherit the one in France.”
She hadn’t realized they owned hotels in other countries, as well. Her eyes widened, “Wow. That’s impressive.”
“Not for us. It’s impressive for father because he is the one that expanded the business. We are just its caretakers. There’s a lot of room for errors as it gets passed down.” His forehead wrinkled.
“Is that why you’re so focused on business? You’re worried that you’ll mess up your dad’s legacy.”
He cocked an eyebrow and threw back the rest of his drink. Luke stood up abruptly and went back inside. His sudden departure left Tiffany feeling as if she had touched a raw nerve with him.
The movement caught Alaric’s attention, “Luke gets a little testy every now and then. Don’t let it get to you. He just needs some time to calm down.”
Had what she said really been that bad? She dusted crumbs off of her clothing and stood up, “I’m going to go finish up the painting.”
“I’ll come with you.” Alaric followed her back into the studio.
Back in her element of colors and canvas, Tiffany cleared her emotions. She needed to get back to where she was when she was painting earlier so she could finish. Her brush danced across the painting. Once she was finally satisfied, she pulled back and placed her hands on her hips.
“Is it done?” Alaric looked at her questioningly.
Tiffany nodded, “Do you want to come see it?”
Adeline poked her head in the room, “Sorry, I was eavesdropping.” She slipped her slender frame through the door, and half ran to see the painting.
“That’s not the pose I was in.” Alaric tilted his head as he looked at the piece.
“Yeah, it’s just, that’s how I saw you.”
The painting showed him leaning forward in the chair with his forearms balanced on his knees as if he were listening intently to the world around him. Sunlight caressed his face. The painting was warm and attentive. It accentuated his caring nature.
Alaric looked at Tiffany and smiled as if he were being seen for the first time, not as the quiet half of the twins, but as his own person. “Thank you.”
“It’s beautiful.” Adeline looped her brother in a hug and squeezed him. “I can’t wait for my turn.”
“Do you know who I’m painting tomorrow?” Tiffany began to tidy up her station.
“Charles.” Adeline spat the name out. Tiffany’s stomach knotted. Great.
Chapter Five: Charles
The Krieger house was quiet the next day when Tiffany arrived. There was no sign of any of the siblings. A maid with silky, black hair had answered the door.
“Do you know where Charles is?” Tiffany fiddled with her bracelet.
“He should be waiting for you upstairs.”
Tiffany made her way slowly up the steps. This was the portrait she was looking forward to the least. The door to the studio was slightly ajar. Tiffany took a deep breath and forced a smile before walking into the room. Charles had already pulled a gold chair lined with red velvet to the center of the chamber. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned.
He looked at Tiffany with bored mischief, “You’re late.”
“You’re early,” she grumbled and pulled her apron out of her purse, pulling it roughly over her head.
“Where did Luke find you at again?” Charles’s chest was showing through the gap in his shirt, and he had one leg propped in the seat of the chair next to him with his arm balanced across his knee.
“On the street, actually.” Tiffany looked at her paint selections in embarrassment and displeasure.
“Sounds like something he would do.” The smallest smile curved his lips. He scoffed under his breath.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, look at it this way, who hired you?”
Confusion wrinkled her forehead. What was he getting at? “Luke did.” Hadn’t they just covered this?
“But who is your real client?”
Tiffany tried to figure out what answer he was trying to lead her to if for nothing more than to get him to shut up. “Well, he is because he hired me, but all of you are, too, since I’m painting you.”
“No.” Charles arranged his fingers in a steeple, “Father is your client.” His voice was as calm as if he were merely remarking on the color of someone’s shoes. “He told Luke to hire a painter to do our portraits, and he came back with you. You must have seen the other paintings in the hallway.”
“Yes,” Tiffany remembered the incredible realism and limited color choices that lined the walls. The conversation and Charles’s condescending tone was making her uneasy.
“I saw the one you did of Margarite. You have a unique style.” He emphasized ‘unique’ like he was tasting vomit.
“I asked Luke when he first brought me here if he wanted them done in that style, and he said if he wanted the same thing, he would have hired the same artists.” She felt as though she needed to defend herself and her art. Her veins throbbed with embarrassment.
Charles picked dirt from under his nails, “Sounds like something he would say. Too bad, though, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Father is old fashioned—well except for when it comes to his love life. Finds a way to be very progressive in that area, doesn’t he?” Charles vented his anger, “You must have noticed the décor at the hotel. It’s so heavily influenced by the Fatherland it practically screams Alt-Reich. Do you really think a man like that is going to go for your watercolor versions of art? Adie painted better stuff when she was in kindergarten. No all of this is Luke’s way of getting back at daddy dearest. You’re a pawn, a joke.”
His words cut her. It was unbelievable that Margarite had survived so long living with a viper like Charles breathing down her neck. Tiffany gritted her teeth and tried to keep calm. “You know, if you keep talking, I can’t promise a good rendering.”
“Ah, truth hurts, huh? Well if that’s what you need to get through it, then by all means. At least you’re pretty. Maybe your looks will come in handy once you realize you need a new way to make money. Father will make sure you never sell another piece after he sees these trash paintings.”
Maybe if he would shut up, she could struggle through this. Her brush strokes were messy and uneven. Frustration mounted the further into the piece she got. Charles’s bored sighs didn’t help her mood. Finally, she put her brush down and stepped away. It wasn’t one of her better pieces.
Charles slinked his way out of the chair with a smug look on his face. As he rounded the side of the canvas, his smug grin turned into a sneer. “What is this? Some kind of a joke?” His voice echoed from the room down the hall. “Do it again.”
“What’s going on here?” Luke appeared silhouetted against the doorframe. His long legs brought him over to the easel in a few, quick strides. His chest was bowed up making him seem twice as intimidating.
“Luke, come look what your little pet did.” Charles’s upper lip curled to show his teeth.
The painting was messy and dark. The background was a black pit of nothingness with the red and gold chair positioned in the center. Charles’s body was in the same positon as he had posed in, but it was his face that drew the eye. Fear. Tiffany had painted him full on, insecurities and terror.
Luke glanced at the painting and back at his brother, “Like you said, she isn’t a miracle worker. She can only work with what she’s given.”
Charles let out a guttural growl and left the room in a huff, slamming the door behind him. Tiffany’s knees went weak, and she started to crumple. Luke was immediately there for her. His arms wrapped around her and held her up.
“Are you ok?” His voice wa
s surprisingly gentle.
“Yeah, i'm okay. I must have locked my knees or something.”
The truth was she was intimidated by Charles. That kind of anger was a hair’s breadth away from violence. She had been sure he was going to hit her. Luke picked her up unceremoniously and sat her on the table where her paints were set up. Her legs opened automatically to let his hips move closer to her. The lack of distance between them made her breathe faster.
“I’m sorry about his portrait. He just got to me.”
“Charles has that effect on most people. I think that’s the most honest painting of him I’ve ever seen.” His hands were still resting on her waist.
Tiffany could feel the pull between them. Her face inched closer to his. She felt his fingers dig into her lower back. His eyes searched her face and lingered on her lips. He was so close now, she could almost taste it.
A second before their lips met, he pulled away. “I should go.” He averted his gaze.
He paused in the doorframe, “Tomorrow you will be painting Adeline. Rest up.”
Chapter Six: Adeline
Adeline bounded out of the house as soon as Sergei parked the car. She opened the car door and pulled Tiffany into a hug. “Let’s go! I’m so excited.” Her hand wrapped around Tiffany’s and tugged her into the house and up into the studio.
A small smile danced across Tiffany’s face. The room seemed to light up when Adeline entered it. She had a way of making everyone seem at ease.
“Where would you like me?”
“Why don’t you pick a place to sit, and we’ll get started.”
Adeline paused for a moment and then sat on the floor. “Is this ok?” She beamed up at Tiffany.
“That looks perfect.” Tiffany couldn’t help but laugh as she pulled on her apron and sorted through the paints. Her eyes lingered on the part of the table where she and Luke had almost kissed. Her heart sped up just remembering it. She cleared her throat and continued picking out colors.
The young woman in the floor was wearing a light blue sundress. Her golden hair draped lovingly over her shoulders. Tiffany allowed the blank canvas to speak to her. Adeline was so full of life, it was hard to capture all of her in one frozen moment. Her brush dipped into pastels and deep blues. Curvaceous shapes and bright colors curled around the painting. When she pulled her brush away for the last time, she felt complete. It was the most satisfying piece she had ever created.
The Campus Jock: A College Bad Boy Romance Page 61
