by Krista Lakes
“Sounds like a total jerk,” she said, squeezing me tight. “I hope you at least slapped him or something.”
“I threw a lamp at his head. Does that count?”
Charlotte grinned, releasing me. “I knew I liked you.” She pointed to another statue. “This one next?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that's perfect.”
She picked it up and stood in the light, holding it perfectly for the camera. “How long ago did you break up?”
“A little over two months,” I replied, snapping her picture. “He's been trying to get me back since then.”
“Seriously?” Charlotte's smile dropped with disbelief.
“Yeah,” I shook my head. “He won't leave me alone. Emails, text messages, flowers at work. He keeps trying to remind me how awesome he is and how terribly lucky I was to even be with him. Like I should just get over the fact that he was sleeping around because he's God's gift to women. Chad's an idiot.”
“With a name like Chad, can you blame him?” Charlotte grinned at me. This was nice. I liked having someone feminine who wasn't related to me to talk to. I had friends back home, but telling them how badly I had misjudged Chad was embarrassing. They were all his friends too. He was the hometown hero and I was the nerdy girl he had picked up. Without him, I wasn't special. It was nice to have someone firmly on my side of the breakup.
I was thoroughly enjoying hanging out with Charlotte. Unfortunately, her phone chirped. She set down the statue, checked it and then put it back in her pocket with a frown. “Just a reminder that I have work to do. What are you doing for dinner tonight?”
“I have no idea,” I replied. “I haven't thought that far in advance yet.”
“It's my night off tonight. Want to have a girl's night?” Hope shone on her face. Charlotte needed a friend as much as I did.
“I would love to have a girl's night.” It was just the change of scenery I needed. Dad would be fine on his own tonight, especially with the doctor just minutes away. It was better than sitting and fretting all night.
“Excellent!” Charlotte beamed and picked up another statue. “I'll come get you at seven and we'll go to the local hotspot. They make the best daiquiris.”
I snapped another picture as she posed for me. “What about you? You have a special someone?”
She blushed a deep red and shook her head. “Nope.”
“Uh huh.”
She rolled her eyes. “There's someone I wouldn't mind dating, but I think he just sees me as an extension of Bastian.” I frowned and she immediately held up her hands. “No, it's okay. I'm so busy right now that I don't have time to see anyone anyway.”
I was about to say something uplifting, but Charlotte's phone started to ring. She set down the statue and mouthed a sorry before answering. “This is Charlotte Page, how may I help you?”
I moved to a painting, trying my best not to listen to her phone conversation, but her voice echoed through the big foyer.
“Oh, hi Leo... yes... okay, I can do that... Give me just one second.” Charlotte touched my arm, and pointed to her phone with an apologetic face.
“Go, go,” I whispered. “Thank you for helping me. I'll see you at seven.”
Charlotte grinned and then hurried up the stairs, talking into the phone with Leo.
I smiled after her, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. I had only been here for a couple of days but I already felt comfortable here. I even had a friend. It felt good. Without worrying about seeing Chad all the time, having to remind him that he betrayed me and that no, we weren't getting back together, I felt like me again.
I held up the camera to take another picture, shifting slightly to adjust for the light. I looked up to check my light source, only to see Bastian's walking back into his study. My cheeks turned hot enough to start a wildfire and I hoped that he hadn't been listening to Charlotte and my conversation.
It was embarrassing admitting that I had been so stupid with Chad. I wanted Bastian to think I was more than what I was at home. When he looked at me with those beautiful eyes, I didn't want him to see that I was someone else's left-overs. If I wasn't good enough for Chad, then there was no way I would be good enough for someone like Bastian. That made him the last person in the world that I wanted to know about Chad.
Sunrise Kisses: Chapter 11
Despite the myriad of rooms in the mansion, I sat in the first room I had started the appraisal. I liked this one, as it had the most comfortable couch I had found and the Morisot painting. After running around the house taking hundreds of photographs and reporting to Dad, I had taken the room over as my office. Now that daylight was fading, I had retreated to the couch to upload all the images to get them ready for my father to organize and edit.
I stood up to stretch as my ancient laptop processed another batch, wandering over to the Morisot picture. The natural light was fading, but the picture was still vibrant. I stared into it, absorbing each brush stroke and imagining myself sitting at a dock along the Seine.
“And I find you looking at that picture again,” a voice said from behind me. I spun startled to see Bastian leaning against the door frame. He was still wearing a full button-up dress shirt and slacks, but at least the top button on the shirt was undone. His eyes, blue-gray and fathomless were fixed on me.
I smiled, glancing back at the painting. “There's something about it that makes me think of Paris.”
He nodded thoughtfully before walking over and pointing to the painting further down the wall. “That one reminds me more of Paris. Yours makes me think of Cannes.”
“You've been to France?” I asked, looking at the other painting. It was a cityscape and I had to agree that it fit more with the image of the city of Paris than a boat did.
“Several times this year already,” he said, moving to stand beside me.“It's a growing market for our website.”
“Oh.” If I dropped my hand to my side, I would brush his with mine, so I held my hands carefully in my lap instead.
He turned his head to look at me, his gray eyes sharp and keen. “What about you? When was the last time you were in France?”
I shrugged, wrapping my arms around my middle like there was an empty pit in my soul. “I've never been.”
“No?” His eyes widened slightly. “But your specialty is French artwork. I thought I saw something in your resume about it.”
“I was accepted into an internship at the Louvre, but my mom got sick, so I didn't go.” I shifted my weight, and hugged myself a little tighter.
“I'm sorry,” he said quietly, sounding very much like Charlotte. “Was she in appraisals as well?”
“No, my mom was an artist. Her impressionist work was as good as the masters. She taught me how to see every brush stroke as important and to look for all the details in a piece.” I smiled fondly, diving into a memory. “We used to sit and talk in the mornings, and then during her chemo treatments, about going to Paris together. We had museums and tours all figured out. All the art we could take in.”
“And you didn't go?” Bastian's voice was low and soft.
“She died before we ever got a chance.” I shook my head, freeing myself from the memory. “I got a different internship and then things have just been so busy that I haven't found the time.”
I thought of adding, “or the funds,” but I doubted a billionaire would understand that part of my problem.
Bastian studied me for a moment, his gray eyes going over me like a painting, taking in every nuance of my face. I looked up at him, enjoying having his company all to myself for a moment. It reminded me of our sunrise out on the beach.
My heart skipped a beat as I realized how close he was. If I just leaned forward by only an inch or two, I would be nearly kissing him. His warmth radiated off him and I could smell the faintest hint of his aftershave and it was difficult not to inhale hard for more.
He glanced back at the painting for a moment before smiling back at me. “You'd like Paris. It's full of beautiful things. You'd fit in there.�
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I blushed at the accidental compliment, biting my bottom lip in a bashful smile as I fiddled with a strand of hair. The thought of kissing him slipped into my mind again, and I nearly did before remembering who he was. I couldn't just kiss a billionaire because he said something nice to me.
“I looked up her work,” he said, turning to look at the painting again.
“Who?” I stammered, my brain spinning and sliding on the smell of his cologne. I took a step back in surprise and promptly lost my balance.
He caught me, wrapping me up in one of his arms before I even realized I was in danger of falling. His arm was steel muscle and I couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to have it wrapped around me in an entirely different room. I pressed my thighs together, struggling to keep the image of his arms on either side of me, his chest bare and strong above me, his hair falling into his eyes with exertion...
“You okay?” He hadn't let go of me yet, but I also hadn't fully regained the use of my legs yet either.
“Yeah,” I grinned, knowing I was blushing like a fool. “Just stepped back funny. I'm okay.”
He waited just an extra moment before releasing me. I didn't want him to let me go. I was considering falling again, just to have him touch me, but I didn't want to appear weak or too obvious.
“Berthe Morisot,” he replied, looking back at the painting. “One of the 'les trois grandes dames' of impressionism. I like this one, but there's something about her landscapes that appeal to me more.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised that he had even remembered her name. “Do you have a favorite?”
“'A Corner of the Rose Garden,'” he answered. A full smile filled my face. It was one of my favorites as well. It had always reminded me of mornings in my mother's garden when I was little.
“I can't believe you actually looked her up,” I said, tucking the strand of hair behind my ear.
“What?” He grinned. “A billionaire can't use Google?”
I laughed. “I don't know, is there a gold plated version?”
“Platinum.” He put on a straight face, but his eyes twinkled as he teased me. “Gold is for mere millionaires.”
I giggled and he grinned. His smile had the same warmth as it did at sunrise and the beauty of it made my heart flutter. When he smiled, the world lit up.
I wanted to ask him so many questions. I wanted to know why he was in foster care with Charlotte, and how he had found the way to turn a dating company into a billion dollar empire from that background. Where did he go to school? Did he have any hobbies other than paddle-boarding? What was his favorite color? I wanted to know everything about him.
“Hey, you ready, Ava?” Charlotte called, stomping into the doorway. She stopped as she saw the two of us standing remarkably close and looking at one another. “Damn, I need to work on my timing.”
“Are you two going out?” Bastian asked, a frown crossing his handsome features. It tugged at the scar on his cheek and eyebrow, making him look more serious than necessary. I liked the smile so much better.
“Yes,” Charlotte replied, coming to my other side. “Just to Surf Shack for some girl time.”
“Charlotte,” he began, the scar darkening, “I-”
“Think it's a great idea,” Charlotte finished for him. “Thank you, Bastian, for your opinion. We'll be fine.”
Bastian's lips tightened and he glared at her. Charlotte rolled her eyes at him and sighed.
“Do you want Elijah to come with us?” she asked, pointedly raising her eyebrows at him.
“Yes.” He nodded and the frown faded slightly. “It would make me feel better.”
“You hear that, Elijah?” Charlotte yelled out toward the hall. I winced slightly at the increase in volume so close to my ear. “You get to come to girl's night!”
Elijah's head popped into the doorway. “I'm not drinking one of those frou-frou drinks again with you, Charlotte.”
What had felt like a comfy, cozy, and possibly romantic location two seconds ago suddenly felt very public. I knew Elijah followed Bastian around everywhere, but the fact that he had been just outside the doorway listening to us flirt was a little daunting.
“Aw, you're no fun, Elijah.” Charlotte grinned wickedly at the bodyguard. “I was going to get you the one with whipped cream and the flower on the glass. I know how much you loved it last time.”
Elijah didn't say anything back and the room went silent for a beat.
“I guess we should be going then,” I said finally, feeling awkward. I wanted the moment before Charlotte arrived back. I wanted it to be just me and Bastian, giggling over art and flirting. I wondered for a moment if I canceled with Charlotte, if Bastian would stay and look at the painting with me.
“I should be getting back to work,” Bastian said, as if hearing my thoughts. I tried not to look disappointed. “You two have fun. And be careful.”
“Don't be such a worrywart,” Charlotte chastised, sticking out her tongue at him. He glared at her as only a protective older brother could before walking over to Elijah. He looked back, his eyes meeting mine for a moment before he focused on Elijah. Bastian said something to the big man that only the two of them could hear but that had Charlotte rolling her eyes.
“You should have seen how protective he was on my first date,” she said, looping her arm through mine and guiding me toward the door. “I'm surprised he isn't calling in more bodyguards since it's the two of us. Perhaps an armored car.”
“I heard that,” Bastian said loudly, still talking to Elijah. I giggled and he glanced over, his brow dark above his beautiful eyes. He looked quickly away and back to Elijah.
“I thought the island was a safe place,” I said, frowning slightly. If Bastian was making this big a deal out of going out, maybe it wasn't the best idea.
“It is,” Charlotte assured me. “The island is so safe that the police boast a less than two minute response time anywhere on the island. Not that they even need to respond half the time, There's enough private security on this island to win a small war. He's just over-protective. Though, he usually doesn't insist Elijah come when it's just me...”
She pulled me past the two men and out into the hall before turning back to face her brother. “You have our itinerary all planned out? We're going to miss happy hour if you don't hurry your secret service plans. I want my girl night even if you would rather Ava stay all safe and cozy here.”
“I worry because I care,” he informed her, but didn't correct her to say he wanted her safe too. His eyes briefly flashed up to me and I suddenly felt a little warm. He cared for me too.
“I know.” She grinned up at him and pulled on my arm. “We'll see you later. Come on Elijah- we'll even let you ride in the car with us.”
“Bye, Charlotte,” Bastian called out as Elijah shook his head and followed us. Bastian looked right at me and his voice softened. “Good bye, Ava.”
I looked back, losing myself in his eyes for a second. “Good bye, Bastian.” He smiled at how I said his name and it made me blush.
Charlotte looked back and forth between the two of us, noting the sappy smiles and rolled her eyes. She pulled harder on my arm. “I'll have her back by midnight, Prince Charming!” she called.
I blushed even harder, but followed her down the stairs and out to our waiting pumpkin.
Sunrise Kisses: Chapter 12
Waiting outside in the giant driveway was a very expensive-looking, electric blue sports car. Charlotte jumped in the front seat and immediately stalled it.
“Would you like me to drive?” Elijah asked, managing to keep a straight face as he stood at the door.
“I hate this car.” Charlotte made an exasperated sound and got out of the driver's seat. “Yes, you can drive.”
I covered my mouth with my hand so she wouldn't see my smirk as the two of us got into the leather-encased backseat. Elijah waited to start the car until we were both buckled, but when he turned the ignition key, it purred like a content
kitten. I didn't know that cars could actually sound like music and it drove smoother than any car I had ever been in.
“What kind of car is this anyway?” I asked, feeling the leather seat. It was like satin against my skin.
“Lamborghini,” Charlotte replied, crossing her legs. I hadn't noticed her killer heels until right then, but she swung them around like weapons. I was terrified one would catch on the leather and rip it.
“And you hate it?” I asked, blanching a little. I had never even seen a real life Lamborghini, let alone gotten inside of one.
“It has the touchiest clutch in the world,” she explained. Elijah made a snorting noise that she ignored. “I know how to drive a manual. Give me a good, old-fashioned, American-made truck and I can drive that sucker anywhere. This,” she said, glaring at the very expensive car, “has nothing on my truck at home.”
I smiled, imagining her in an old beater of a truck driving around a billion dollar estate. It fit Charlotte to a tee.
“So you and Bastian were looking at art?” Charlotte asked. Her tone was innocent, but I suspected she wanted more details than just “looking at art.” “You two seemed awfully interested in that painting.”
“Yes,” I replied, just as innocently. “That painting is worth a lot more than he thought. We were simply discussing it.”
“Oh, that's good.” Her foot started bouncing in the air, and she chewed on her lip until she was unable to control her need for more gossip. “So, I think Bastian likes you,” Charlotte blurted out. I immediately turned a deep, dark shade of crimson.
“Oh, come on, Charlotte—me?” I laughed, but deep down I wanted it to be true. “I think you've had too much to drink and we're not even at the bar yet.”
“What?” She grinned. “You don't think he's cute?”
I blushed even harder and she laughed.
“You do think he's cute!”
I rolled my eyes at her and pulled my hair back and out of my face, trying to relieve some of the heat. “What about you and whats-his-name? The one who doesn't know you exist?”
“Oh, no,” she replied, holding out her hand as if that would stop my words. “We are not talking about me and Leo.”
