by Andrew Grey
Dieter smiled. “It’s a surprise.” He kissed me again, and I opened the door. “Oh.” Dieter shifted to pull out his wallet and handed me a card. “That’s my phone number. Text me when you get inside so I’ll have yours.”
I nodded and closed the car door, then walked up to the door in half a daze. I turned to watch his car glide out of the drive before going inside.
“Where the hell have you been all this time?” Mother demanded, instantly snapping me back to reality.
“I was out with a friend. You know that.” I rolled my eyes.
“This late?” She pointed to the clock.
I inhaled, my patience wearing thin. “I’m going up to bed.” Part of me wanted to argue with her, but that wasn’t going to do any good, especially once I smelled alcohol on her breath. Drinking always made her depressed, and she either got maudlin or belligerent. Today seemed like the latter. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Most likely passed out on the sofa with the TV on. “Night, Mom.”
Thankfully, she sat back down, returning her attention to the television, so I went up the stairs and to my room. Jeremy’s door opened and he stuck his head out. I looked back toward the stairs and shook my head.
“Is Isabella in bed? Did they fight?”
He shrugged. “I don’t keep track of her. But Mom’s on a real tear.” I knew that for sure. “She’ll pass out soon, though.”
“And we’ll clean up the mess in the morning.” I went inside and got ready for bed after using the bathroom. In bed, I listened for Mom for a while, then tuned her out as I let my mind wander over the kiss in the car. My toes curled just thinking about it, and I nearly fell to sleep with a smile on my face… until Mom stumbled up the stairs to bed.
Chapter 4
“DO I look okay for this surprise?” I asked the following day as I pulled open the door to the Mercedes. “Oh….” I had expected Dieter, but Beau sat behind the wheel. “Is everything okay?”
He motioned me inside, then pulled out. “Of course. Dieter is getting everything set up and asked if I’d be willing to come get you for him.” His eyes twinkled and his fingers flexed on the wheel. “I can’t tell you what he has in mind, so don’t ask.”
“Okay…,” I agreed. “How are the kids at the Center? How’s Bobby?” The thought of the precocious youngster brought a smile to my lips. I sometimes volunteered at the Community Center where Beau worked as a counselor, giving the kids art lessons and things like that.
“He’s doing great,” Beau said with a grin. “Unfortunately, I don’t see him as much as I used to.” He sighed. “That happens in my line of work. It’s a good thing when the kids don’t need me or the Center as much as they used to. But it’s hard to let go sometimes.”
That sounded all too believable. “I wanted to tell you to stop by the studio Tuesday if you can. I told everyone about the auction, and we have some drawings and studies that are being framed. They’re small, so the guys in the works took some picture-frame molds and cast them for us. They’re being glazed this weekend, and on Monday we’ll put everything together. The studies for Bartholomew Porcelain Studio will be in frames done by Bartholomew Porcelain Works. That should make them extra special.”
“Awesome!” Beau turned off the main street toward the mansion.
“Are we going to the house?” I looked down at how I was dressed. “Dieter said….”
Beau drove past the main driveway to the house and turned into what would be the back entrance, then continued on toward the rear of the property before parking in front of one of the outbuildings. I hadn’t even known it was here. Not that I’d spent any time on the estate at all.
Beau climbed out of the car, and I followed suit. “It was good to see you.” He held out his hand, and I shook it. “I need to get back up to the house, but Dieter will be here in a few minutes. Have fun!” He grinned and turned to walk across the lawn toward the back of the stately mansion.
I waved to him, casting my gaze out across the rolling lawn. The carpet of green went almost all the way down to the Bay, broken up by reeds in shades of tan near the shore.
A man on a horse burst out of the trees, coming toward me at a gallop. It took a few seconds for me to realize it was Dieter on a chestnut mount. He slowed as he approached, sitting tall in the saddle, a grin splitting his lips, hair blowing in the breeze. Dang, he looked good. Better than good—romance novel cover–worthy. Stunning was probably the best description. Dieter’s legs were encased in pants that gripped his powerful thighs, leaving little to the imagination, shiny black boots covered his feet, and a tight shirt stretched over his chest, largely hidden by a riding jacket.
I’d only seen people ride like cowboys. This was very different. The saddle was smaller, and Dieter’s legs gripped the animal, flexing. I stepped back out of the way as he dismounted, giving me a stunning view of his backside as he got down. I was going to have plenty of details to add to my painting. Though in this case, I had to admit that my imagination had been a little lacking. The reality was so much better.
Dieter turned to me, smiling. “I thought you and I could go riding. Have you been before?”
I shook my head. “I mean, I was on a pony ride once, and I went on a trail ride when I was at camp where they put us on the horses and each followed the one ahead of it. There wasn’t much actual control or anything. I held the reins, and the horse went forward.”
“Okay. I already have a horse all set up for you.”
A groom came out of the barn, leading a horse darker than the one Dieter had been riding.
“That’s Whistler. He’s the horse Beau has been learning to ride, and he’s very gentle and experienced. He understands beginning riders. So he isn’t going to take off or try to run away with you.”
“That’s good.” I looked into Whistler’s eyes and patted his neck. Whistler turned to look at me and bobbed his head a little.
“My horse is Diego.” Dieter gave Diego a pat on the neck. “Randy here is going to help you mount and then he’ll lead you around a little until you get the feel for the horse. Then you and I will take a trail ride.”
I let Randy guide me to the correct side of the horse and managed to get up onto Whistler’s back, but I felt like I was going to fall off at first.
Randy got my feet in the proper position. “Use your legs to grip him a little, but not too tightly. You’ll get the feel for riding pretty quickly.” Randy showed me how to tell Whistler where I wanted to go and walked me around the yard. “Just relax and move with him. If you’re too stiff, he has to work harder. That’s it.”
I let go of some of my nerves and started to have a good time, the constant off-balance sensation abating faster than I expected.
Dieter rode up beside me. “We’re going to take an easy ride. There are some trails down by the Bay that aren’t difficult, and we aren’t going to go fast. Chances are he’ll simply follow along. But be watchful and have fun, okay?” Diego turned, and Whistler followed behind him, as I was hoping he would. I wasn’t sure how to do much other than sit, but I was soon having fun.
Dieter spoke over his shoulder. “The first time I was on a horse, I was six years old. My dad gave me a pony for my birthday and was determined to teach me how to ride. Only my father never had any patience, and my mom said he made me cry in about five minutes.”
“What happened?” I asked, speaking loudly so I could be heard.
Dieter chuckled. “Mom told him to go inside and she taught me. She was super talented and had won a lot of ribbons when she was young.” Dieter pulled to a stop, and Whistler came alongside Diego. “My mom almost made the Olympic riding team a couple of years. Then she got married.” Dieter sighed. “Mom was patient and kind. She was proof that the good die young, and my father is proof that the mean and crotchety live for damn near ever.”
“Tell me about it.” I had to laugh nervously. Dieter was so right, only in my case, the parents were reversed. My father and stepfather had been the amazing people in my life, and my mot
her… between the pickling from her drinking and her constant impatience and self-centeredness, she was going to last until doomsday. “Sometimes I’m glad I can pick my friends….”
“Yes.” Dieter clicked his tongue, and Diego started forward. Whistler again followed, and we continued down the trail. The sun shone off the water, sparkling between the stands of trees, the wind in the leaves overhead. It was perfect, and for a while, I forgot about where I was and that I was on a horse and simply enjoyed myself. “The Bay is beautiful.”
“I love it. I used to wonder what it would be like to live somewhere else, but then I wouldn’t have all the water and the Bay. So everywhere else would be ordinary, in a way, I guess.” I shrugged. “Have you ever been on a sailboat?”
“No. I’ve done other kinds of boating, but the lakes near me aren’t big enough for that kind of thing. I almost went on one of the big sailboats a few years ago, but I wasn’t able to go because of a conflict.” When Dieter stopped and turned his horse around, Whistler stopped but didn’t follow. “Tug the reins to the right and nudge him forward,” Dieter said, twisting to look back at me.
I tried, but Whistler simply turned his head, blinking at me like I was a fool. Then he shook his head, standing still. A horse wasn’t a car, I knew that, so I needed to communicate to Whistler that I wanted him to turn around. I pulled the reins a little harder to the one side, and Whistler shifted his weight, blew out air from his nose, and seemed to take pity on me, turning to follow Dieter. I patted him on the neck. “Thank you, boy.” Lord, I had no idea at all what the hell I was doing, and thank goodness the horse was better at this stuff than I was.
“We’re going to head back.” Dieter flashed a smile over his shoulder, and I nodded, my gaze returning to his tight butt in those pants that left nothing to the imagination. I needed to be careful, because I was discovering just how uncomfortable it could be to ride with a hard-on.
“Just when I’m starting to get the hang of this.” I grinned as Dieter turned to look at me. Thank God my jeans weren’t tight enough to show him everything that was going on.
“You don’t want to ride for too long or your legs will get really sore.” Dieter’s gaze grew heated. “I have….” He cleared his throat and the rest of what he said was lost to me with the wind in my ears, but I hoped he meant that he had other things of interest that I was going to need my legs for.
Eventually we reached the edge of the wood, and since Whistler knew we were going back to the barn, he picked up his pace.
I bounced as he broke into a trot. “Holy cow.” I felt like my head was in a washing machine.
Dieter hurried past and then slowed his horse. Whistler took the hint and slowed as well. “You’re supposed to take it easy,” Dieter told him, and we walked back to the barn, where Randy helped me dismount. I stretched my legs as he took Whistler inside.
“I’ll rub him down and take care of the saddle. You go with Dieter.” Randy led Whistler into a stall, talking to him softly. Dieter did the same with his horse, and I followed and watched as he got the saddle off. “Thank you, Randy,” I said before Dieter led me out of the barn. “That was fun.”
“You’d said you’d never ridden a horse before. What did you think?”
I scratched my head as I tried to think of an answer that wasn’t going to embarrass me. The best part of being on a horse was watching Dieter ahead of me, his tight butt bouncing in those damn pants. And now those cheeks danced with each step as he led the way toward the house.
“I like it. Riding was different. Whistler was a good boy and didn’t throw me or run away with me, so I think that’s a success.” I’d felt clumsy and out of sorts on the horse, whereas Dieter looked like he was born to ride and belonged on a pedestal, cast in bronze. He was magnificent on a horse. It got me excited, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I was already blushing just thinking about it. “Are you staying here?”
Dieter nodded. “I’ve known Dante for quite a while. After his wife died, he was truly lost for some time. He and I became friends on his trips to Europe to promote the studio as well as the ceramic works. We’ve developed a close friendship over a number of years now.”
“Did you and Dante ever…?” I wasn’t sure how to ask. “Were you together?”
Dieter shook his head. “You are direct when you want to be.”
“Sorry,” I said, blushing again.
“Don’t be. It’s refreshing. And no. He and I were never more than friends. After his wife’s death, Dante had a hard time dealing with what happened. He and I became friends, and I offered him a refuge of sorts from his life here.” Dieter stopped walking, looking at the back of the stone mansion. “Sometimes a place, even one like that, can become a prison. There were a lot of rumors and unhappy memories here. Dante could spend time with me and our friends in Europe, leaving those cares behind for a time.” Dieter smiled. “But he’s happy again.”
“Yes. Everyone sees it.” I wished I could be happy the way Dante and Beau were. “I used to think Dante was….” I hesitated. “I guess I had a crush on him… sort of. I used to see him around town and thought he was sexy.” I covered my mouth with my hand. It was the only way I could let go of my embarrassment. “I never should have said that.”
Dieter shrugged and put an arm around my shoulder. “You don’t hide things. That’s really nice.”
I sighed. “We all hide things, just different stuff.” I started walking once again, and Dieter guided me in through one of the back doors, where we took off our shoes and then continued upward to the main part of the house.
Voices drifted into the massive entrance hall, and I stood in the center of more elegance and stunning beauty than I could ever remember seeing up close. Dark wood, marble, crystal—it all shone and sparkled in the light streaming through the windows.
“Florian,” Beau said as he came in. “Did you enjoy the ride?”
“It was great,” I said with a smile.
Beau motioned, and we joined him and Dante in the sitting room. It was as elegant and stunning as the entrance hall. A tray of liquor rested on the table, along with a tray of pastries. “We were just discussing final plans for the masquerade. We have quite a few auction items, and everything is coming together perfectly.” He bounced in his seat.
“You just love throwing a party,” Dante said as he motioned to empty chairs.
I sat down on the edge, uncomfortable in the fancy surroundings. Not to mention at Dante’s house. He was my boss, and while I had seen him around the studio for years, I’d never spent time with him. Now I’d had dinner with him and was at his house all within a week. It was unnerving. For years I’d heard rumors and stories about him, and while I didn’t put much faith in them, they were hard to tune out. But he seemed happy enough sitting with Beau, with that twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his face. Damn it all, the rumors had to have been wrong, because he was basically making moony love-eyes at Beau.
“Your brother has put himself forward for promotion to fill a supervisor position in the plant,” Dante said.
“I see.” I didn’t say any more. Jeremy would make a terrible supervisor. He was dictatorial and didn’t listen to others, always thinking that he had all the answers. But it wasn’t my place to say anything. Hopefully Dante and his managers were smart enough to see what Jeremy’s skills were and weren’t. “I didn’t know that.” And it also explained why Jeremy had been sent an invitation to the party. With limited space, not all of the employees at the works had been invited, only managers and supervisors apparently.
“It seems—”
“Dante,” Beau interrupted. “This isn’t appropriate. If you have questions or reservations about his brother’s qualifications, it isn’t right to talk about them with Florian.” He patted Dante’s hand. It seemed the two of them talked over everything together.
Dante’s phone rang, and he excused himself and left the room as he took the call.
Beau’s chimed, and he read the message.
“Excuse me as well. It seems there’s some party emergency.” He took off too, and I jumped as the front door thudded closed.
“Are they always like that?”
“They have been the last few days. This party has them both hopping. Though if I didn’t know better, I’d say they orchestrated this.” Dieter’s eyes shone as he leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees.
“Is there anything I can bring either of you?” a man asked from the doorway.
“No, thank you, Roberts. We’re just fine,” Dieter said.
I met the man’s kind gaze with my own. “I’m Florian,” I said as I stood, holding out my hand. “I’ve seen you in town a number of times.” I smiled.
“Roberts. I’m the butler here,” he said with a slight smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your work is magnificent.” He nodded and left the room.
I sat back down, looking around again, wondering what I was going to do. Part of me wanted to leave just so I could be in more familiar surroundings. But Dieter was here, and as I worried, his gaze softened.
“This is only a house. I know it’s big and opulent, but it’s still just a house, like yours.” Dieter must have sensed my discomfort and was trying to make me more comfortable.
“It’s my boss’s house. He owns the porcelain works, as well as the studio. I work for him.” I spotted one of my pieces on the marble mantel above the huge fireplace. I stood and walked over to it. “I remember this.” I didn’t pick it up but looked at the cardinal on the front. Unlike most scenes where cardinals are painted in winter, I’d spotted this bird in the summer, so I painted him sitting on one of the reeds by the Bay, his red standing out against the greens and tans. “This was one of my first pieces after they made me a full-time designer. I painted this scene a hundred times, I swear. It was a huge seller.” Carefully I lifted the vase to peer at the bottom. I numbered my pieces as well as signed them, and this was number one, the first time I’d executed the design in production.
