by Lucy Score
“Good,” Davis said, even though half of his students had mixed the wrong colors. Following instructions wasn’t Blue Moon’s strong suit. Residents didn’t like anything that challenged their creative freedom. Which was why twenty-two women and Fitz were abstractly slathering acrylics on canvas. Davis had considered a step-by-step landscape or even the standard bowl of fruit. But there was something satisfying about turning everyone loose on their own blank canvases with minimal direction. “Now, try out that fan brush in the shade you just created.”
He put his palette down, picked up his wine, and strolled down the first line of tabletop easels. They’d reconfigured the long tasting tables into stations fit for amateur painters.
Kicking off yet another venture hadn’t been on his to do list. Not with the fire, the winery, the HeHa Festival, and then, of course, Eden’s sudden claim that the feelings he knew she was feeling weren’t real…
Something had happened, a head injury or perhaps a visit from the ghost of feuds past, and the woman was suddenly hellbent on being his friend.
She’d been leaving little breakfast sandwiches wrapped in paper bags outside his room every morning. Texting him funny pictures of the dogs. Leaving candies on his pillow like she did for the rest of her guests. And she’d insisted on planning the winery’s first paint class.
She was the one who had found the bulk discount art supplies online and the one who posted about it in the town’s Facebook group. And now that same crazy woman was currently glaring at her canvas in the next row between her friends Sammy Ames and Eva Cardona.
It was her consolation prize for him, Davis assumed. She’d turned him down flat, claiming no interest in a relationship beyond their current arrangement that was due to end in three days. So here, have a paint night.
Unfortunately for her, Davis wasn’t interested in a consolation friendship or her pity art class. He’d been busy avoiding her rather than seeking her out. He’d missed every Snack Time and breakfast this week, and when she’d come knocking on his door two nights ago, he’d pretended he was in the middle of a conference call. So she’d organized this whole thing as a sort of apology. An olive branch. A friendship bracelet.
And he wasn’t biting.
The look she was shooting him now, the one he was studiously ignoring, singed him. She was as miserable as he was. Davis was sure of it. And they were still supposed to put on the “happy couple” face for the Beautification Committee until HeHa. That happy couple face might be the death of him.
A glance over Freida Blevins’s shoulder showed Davis the violent swath of turquoise she was working across her canvas. “Nice job, Freida,” he offered.
“I’m a natural,” she insisted, shimmying her shoulders, silver cactus earrings dancing from her lobes.
Mrs. Nordemann worked her paint brush with a rigid wrist and the tip of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her unpainted lips. Near as Davis could tell, she was painting the Grim Reaper in a sea of morbid purples. But the reaper was smiling, and so was Mrs. Nordemann.
He continued his rounds, offering advice and compliments until he got to Eden’s row. He didn’t even care about revenge at this point. The whole thing felt like one big loss. They’d all have been better off if the Beautification Committee had left them alone.
What was upsetting him now was the fact that Eden honestly believed that he wouldn’t take a stand for what he wanted. That he wouldn’t stand up to his parents. Which was ridiculous. He was a grown man and—
The thought stopped him mid-stride. Reality—and Elvira Eustace’s fuchsia and tangerine masterpiece—punched him in the face, searing his eyes with the technicolor truth.
When had he stood his ground?
When had he fought for… anything?
Eden hadn’t been insulting his manhood. She’d been citing an observation, and if Davis couldn’t be counted on to stand up to his father when it came to grapes and wine labels, how could he be counted on to stand up for her?
He stopped behind her, drawn to the familiar scent of her shampoo. It twisted the knife in his gut. The way her shoulders tightened, he knew she could sense him behind her. Davis saw the prickle of goose bumps on her neck above the collar of her silky, sheer blouse.
“How does it look?” she asked shyly, never taking her eyes off of her canvas.
Davis couldn’t resist. He leaned in, his chest brushing her back. She tensed against him, then relaxed, remembering their pretext. Her canvas was a tangle of darkness. Navies, purples, and grays warred over the white in bold brushstrokes. One didn’t have to guess what was on her mind. Turmoil. Doubt.
And it gave Davis great satisfaction. Eden Moody might not be ready to admit her feelings for him, but she couldn’t keep them out of her painting.
“Very nice.” He let his lips brush the curve of her ear. She dropped her paintbrush with a clatter on the table, drawing eyes.
His blood emptied out of his head in a mad rush to his rapidly hardening erection. This was the other reason he’d been avoiding her. He couldn’t control his impulses around her. It would be too easy to fall back into her bed while she talked friendship and he felt more. Much more.
And Eden felt it, too. She just had to believe in him. And it was up to him to give her a reason to believe.
He left her staring after him and strolled further down the aisle, a smirk on his lips. He felt fifty pounds lighter.
For the first time in his life, Davis knew what he wanted. And he wasn’t going to let anyone stand in his way. Now, he just needed a plan.
“Excuse me, Davis?” Kathy Wu waved him down. “We were all just wondering when you’re scheduling the nude painting class.”
Davis had the misfortune of a swallow of wine going down the wrong pipe. “I beg your pardon?” he coughed.
Fitz raised his hand, his tight waffle weave shirt unbuttoned to his sternum. “If you’re not interested in posing, I can make myself available for a small fee.”
46
“Those are my terms.” Davis said. He was sitting cross-legged on the red velvet floor cushion in Gia Pierce’s darkened yoga studio. Not exactly neutral ground, but if he wanted to make this deal, concessions had to be made. Plus, Eden would flay the skin from his bones if she knew what he was doing.
His plan was… well, complicated. And it involved asking the enemy for help.
Ellery stared at him for almost a full thirty seconds in silence, her lips painted what looked like a navy blue tonight giving her pale skin a bluish tint. “I’d like to consult with my colleague,” she said finally.
Davis raised his palms. “By all means.”
Ellery ducked her pigtailed head toward Eva’s red curls. Eva had worn head-to-toe black in honor of their covert meeting. Top secret, back yoga room negotiations with the enemy called for stealthy wardrobe.
They’d recovered quickly after Davis had dropped the bomb on them. He knew what they’d done. What they were responsible for. What they owed him. And then he told them exactly what he owed them.
To their credit, neither woman dissolved into tearful groveling. They were smart enough to admit nothing.
They whispered to each other for an interminably long time. Long enough for him to braid several of the tassels on his meditation cushion.
“Okay,” Ellery said stoically. “We accept your terms.”
“With the addition of a few of our own,” Eva added.
Davis narrowed his eyes. “Tell me.”
“We want the credit, of course,” Ellery began.
Davis twirled a braided tassel, considering. “If you’ve earned it, you’ll have it.”
Ellery rolled her eyes. “None of this would have happened if we hadn’t matched you two,” she reminded him. “You’d still be all by your lonesome at the winery while your next-door neighbor avoided you for the rest of your life. She would have eventually met and married someone else, and you would have had no idea how good you two would be together.”
“Yeah, and I’d
still have my kitchen,” Davis pointed out.
“I’m sure whoever is responsible for that unfortunate accident feels terrible,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Hypothetically speaking, whoever is specifically responsible may have run off the rails without the knowledge or permission of his—or her—fellow committee members… I mean friends,” Eva added. “I’d hate for you to think that all of his or her friends would have ever in a million years even entertained—”
“Such an asinine idea,” Ellery finished for her. “One that I’m sure whoever is broadly responsible is working tirelessly to correct.
Davis sighed and stopped fiddling with the tassels. “I apologize. I didn’t come here to rub anyone’s noses in their flammable mistakes. Whether you’re responsible or not.”
Ellery nodded. “Understood. And I’m sure no one meant to cause such extensive damage given the fact that all any smart matchmaking person needed to do was get you and Eden near each other and nature would take its course.”
“That was the whole plan?” Davis asked.
Ellery and Eva nodded. “Not every plan is super complex. You guys have a whole history of sparks—forgive the pun. We knew if we could get you around each other temporarily those feelings would explode.”
“You’re truly diabolical people,” Davis sighed.
Ellery beamed as if he’d given her a compliment. “We have a lot of experience in matters of the heart. Now, let’s get back to business.”
Eva nodded. “Okay. So, you have to promise not to make any copies or distribute this information that we give you to anyone under penalty of serious punishment,” Eva added.
He was more than curious what kind of serious punishment the Beautification Committee could dole out. But after the stink bombing, he wasn’t willing to find out.
“Uh. Agreed.”
“You also have to promise that you won’t ever hint at who might be responsible for that thing that I’m not mentioning in order not to incriminate any of my acquaintances,” Ellery said, her eyes wide.
“Getting half the town arrested for arson does not serve me,” Davis told them.
Ellery jerked her chin toward Eva’s bag. “Give him the book.”
Eva handed over a neatly bound notebook and interlaced her fingers in her lap. “Now that that’s over. Let’s talk strategy.”
“If you’ll turn to page five in our Eden Moody dossier, you’ll find a list of her motivating factors,” Ellery began.
“Wow.” Davis was impressed and concerned. “Do you have one of these on me?”
“It’s probably better if we just focus on Eden for now,” Eva suggested.
“Is all of this going to cause a problem with you and your husband?” Davis asked her.
She flushed and placed a hand over her stomach. “This isn’t a literal get out of jail free card, but I think with your idea and this little bundle of joy, we’ll all be good.”
“And the Beautification Committee will never commit another arson again,” Davis prompted.
“We’ll certainly try our hardest,” Ellery promised brightly. “Now, let’s look at Eden’s rebellious tendencies. I feel like this could be the key.”
Eden Moody, you are cordially invited to an emergency meeting of the Beautification Committee at 7 p.m. tonight. Emergency attendance is mandatory.
47
“What are you doing here?” Eden asked, spotting Davis on the library steps. And why did he have to be so good-looking? He was still dressed in what she’d come to think of as his winery “uniform”—slacks with a crisp button down, and today he’d added a vest. Lord, that vest.
Wordlessly, he held up a notecard like the one she’d received that morning.
“Do you have any idea what this is about?” she asked. With the exception of the handful of HeHa organizational meetings they’d hosted and a very strained paint night, Davis had avoided her like she was a sticky toddler in need of a nap since “the talk.”
He shrugged. “Not really.”
She wasn’t sure if it was the winter air or Davis’s obvious disinterest that chilled her more under her vegan leather jacket.
She jogged up the steps behind him. “So how was work today?” she asked. Was it weird that she missed talking to him about work and business and life? No. Normal people who weren’t sleeping together could talk about regular things, couldn’t they?
“It was fine,” he said, holding the door for her.
He couldn’t even slam it in her face like a jerk. Like she would have been tempted to do if their roles were reversed. Damn polite bastard.
“How was your day?” he asked, falling into step next to her.
“It was… entertaining. The Magnolia twins—have you met them, yet?”
He shook his head and waved at the librarian behind the desk.
“Well, they’re celebrating their fiftieth birthdays and a divorce, and they got into an argument in the hallway with Mr. and Mrs. Hadad over—get this—80s hair bands.”
“Mmm,” he said, gesturing for her to go ahead of him on the stairs to the second floor.
“Yeah, the Magnolias are huge fans of Cinderella, and the Hadads felt that Def Leppard was a better representation of the best of the 80s.” She was blabbering, nerves overtaking her mouth and making it work like a ventriloquist’s dummy. And she couldn’t stop the words from vomiting forth. “I’m thinking there’s some leftover astrological apocalypse vibes going on. It could explain a lot of things.”
“You mean, like us?” His tone was neutral, almost friendly. But the connection they’d shared was painfully absent. It was like chatting with a next-door neighbor. Not a man who had brought her to orgasm on the tasting room floor at midnight.
Rather than letting her answer, Davis rapped his knuckles on the conference room door and opened it at the brisk, “Come in.”
They filed into the room. The full committee was in attendance and looking somber. Bruce, in a snowflake embroidered sweater vest, gestured toward two folding chairs at the front of the room. The whiteboard had been wiped nearly clean. No more Eden + Davis = Love. The only thing that was left was the fundraising bar graph filled in to $250.
Gingerly, Eden sat and crossed her arms over her chest. Nerves skated through her veins. Eva and Gia were avoiding eye contact with her, but Ellery offered her a sad smile and a little wave.
Gordon and Rainbow were, thankfully, dressed. Wilson and Bobby had their heads together over a committee binder. Amethyst looked as though she were stress-eating a cupcake.
“Eden and Davis,” Bruce began. “It is with a heavy heart that I inform you that your match has been canceled.”
“Canceled?” Eden repeated. Davis had no reaction next to her.
“Yes. I’m afraid it’s come to our attention that this is no longer a fit match, and we cannot in good conscience proceed. To do so would be…”
“Disastrous,” Ellery filled in.
Bruce nodded, his shoulders slumped. He pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket and blew his nose noisily.
What did this mean? Had she won? What about the public breakup? The plan? Eden’s mind was a whirl of confusion.
She raised a tentative hand. “May I ask what prompted this decision?” What did it even matter? The Beautification Committee no longer had a perfect record. And she was free of Davis Gates.
“I’m not at liberty to discuss committee business,” Bruce hedged.
Bobby rolled her eyes. “Oh, for Pete’s sake! Eden, do you love Davis?”
Did orgasms and friendship equal love? What? No! She was losing her damn mind. Just being next to him was confusing her.
“I do not,” she said carefully. “But I don’t hate him anymore. In fact, I think we’ve gotten to be quite friendly.” Naked, thrusting, coming. That kind of friendly. That wasn’t love. And neither were their quiet evenings in front of the fire talking about plans and taxes and guests and customers. It wasn’t the way her heart flipped over in her chest when h
e smiled at her across a room or the way he took her hand in his.
No, love was something else. Wasn’t it?
“There you have it,” Bruce said, rubbing his eyes as if to ward off a migraine.
“You can’t have a love match without love,” Gordon waxed poetically.
“You both are free to go,” Ellery announced.
“Wait. What happens now?” Eden asked, her mind spinning. Were there forms to sign? Apology gifts? She glanced at Davis who was looking at his watch.
“Nothing happens now,” Bruce moaned.
“We’ll make a public announcement in the next issue of The Monthly Moon,” Wilson explained.
“Then we’ll begin reviewing our matching process to see where we went wrong and if we’ll be able to continue our services in the future,” Gia said, her voice laced with regret.
Bruce stifled a sob. “Decades of hard work. Over.”
“On the bright side, you go back to exactly the way things were before,” Ellery said with a half-hearted smile.
Eden flinched.
“Thank you for your efforts,” Davis said formally, rising from his chair. His gaze returned to Eden, and she blushed furiously. “See you at HeHa this weekend,” he said.
“Wait!” Eden began. But she had nothing. “So, that’s it? We’re free to go?”
Davis nodded politely to the committee members and left the room. Eva and Gia looked at her, two sets of puppy dog eyes trained on her.
Eden rose, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She hadn’t even needed to take off her jacket before being handed the victory she’d worked for.
“Um, I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Eden said lamely and walked out of the silent room. She closed the door quietly behind her and leaned against it, wondering why she didn’t feel victorious.
48
HeHa was here. All of Blue Moon turned out in One Love Park bundled up against the harsh December wind. It had snowed overnight, but four inches of the white stuff wasn’t going to stop the town’s population from an entire day of do-gooding.
