by K. K. Allen
The playful taunt of her tone catches me off guard, and then I register her words. Fuck. My eyes roll back with annoyance toward my best friend’s girl, who I’d love to strangle right about now. Claire and her loose lips. “It wasn’t a lie.”
She tilts her head. Another challenge. Fuck if it doesn’t rile me up. I used to love this—the back and forth quips that always carried a dose of teasing with the anger. One of us conceding and the other winning a kiss.
Neither of us minded losing.
“It wasn’t a lie, Aurora. Think about it.” I wait for her to respond, but she crosses her arms instead. “I didn’t tell you black coffee was my favorite.”
Her obstinate expression settles into defeat. “You’re right.”
Now it’s my turn to be surprised. I squeeze my lids shut and shake my head. “Did you just concede?”
A blush lights up her cheeks, and I know she remembers too. Before I can tease her again, she plops onto the couch beside me and snatches the magazine away. “Mind if I join you?”
She settles in and turns to look at me. “You know what I think?” she asks, like whatever it is has already been decided.
“What, dare I ask?”
She hands the magazine back to me. “I think you should close your eyes, flip the pages, and then stop on a random page. Whatever you land on will tell you where you’ll visit next. No hesitation. Pick it. Book it. Do it.”
“What are you, a travel agent?” It occurs to me in this moment that she very well could be. I don’t know much about the last six years of her life. Bits and pieces I was able to figure out. Our conversations last night were mostly about asshole Franco and vague information about our dating history. I know where she went to school and where she lived, but beyond that, I haven’t really pushed to learn more. Honestly, I think I’m too afraid of what I might find in her new life.
But at least in this way, she’s still the same old Aurora, thinking she knows what’s best. Still thinking that leaving Balsam Grove is the answer to everything missing in my life. She still doesn’t get it. But I do. Aurora still harbors guilt for my decision to stay when I had an opportunity to leave.
Her hand covers mine, surprising me. Her voice is soft when she says, “Don’t read into what I just said, please. I just thought it sounded like a fun game.”
I shake off all thoughts of the past and hand her the magazine. “Then you do it. Pick your next vacation.”
Aurora bites her lip, staring down at the open page like she’s considering. Then she shrugs. “Okay.”
She does exactly as she instructed me to do—closes her eyes, leans her head back slightly. The angle gives me the perfect view of her profile, from her chin to the rise and fall of her next breath. I lean toward her, inhaling her familiar scent of orange blossoms and wild berries.
She’s blindly flipping the pages of Art World one by one, a smile curling her lips. I keep thinking she’s about to choose a page, but then she goes again, and again, until she lets out the tiniest giggle, bites down on her bottom lip, and points to the page beneath her chipped nail.
“This one,” she says looking at me instead of the photo of Iguazu Falls. I can feel her intense eyes burning through me, but I can’t lift my gaze from the page she chose. What a dream trip that would be, to stand in front of one of the most beautiful natural wonders in the world. How I’d love to make that the subject of my next canvas.
“Hey, Aurora,” Claire calls, making us both jump. “Do you mind making sure the fridge is stocked for tonight? I think we’re all set, but it wouldn’t hurt to double check.”
“Sure thing.” Aurora tosses me the magazine with a grin before lifting herself from the couch and walking off.
I eye Claire suspiciously as she heads my way.
“So.” She says the word slowly, as if still figuring out what she’s going to say. “Guess who I just got off the phone with?”
Claire has always been like a sister to me. Mostly the loyal kind, sometimes the bratty kind. But protective Claire is surfacing now, and discomfort swirls in my chest.
“I don’t want to know,” I say, looking down and flipping the page of my magazine with a slap.
But Claire won’t let up. She plops down beside me where Aurora just was and sighs dramatically. “Let me give you a hint. Her name starts with V and ends in alerie. Ring a bell?”
I stiffen. “Clever,” I mutter without expression.
“Don’t you want to know what she called for?”
“Nope. I told you two months ago, I have nothing to say to her. If she calls, just take a message and throw it in the garbage. I don’t need to know about it. She’ll get the hint. Can we not talk about this?”
Claire rips the magazine from my grip and tosses it on the table. She waits until I meet her gaze to speak. “Jesus, Jax. What happened with Val?”
“Just leave it alone.”
“No! I won’t leave it alone. You need to tell me what’s going on. She’s calling my café now, so I’m involved.”
I groan. “It’s nothing, Claire. I promise. We had a thing. It’s over.”
“I told you she was bad news bears, didn’t I?”
I shove my fingers through my hair and pinch my eyes closed. “Don’t start. Please, just don’t.”
Claire let’s out a sarcastic laugh. “You’re in this position because of what you started. I’m just the messenger.”
“And I don’t want the message.”
“Don’t you want to know what she said?”
My eyes cut to Claire. “No.”
I hate the look she throws me next—a warning that tells me Valerie is up to something. That doesn’t surprise me. Valerie has been up to something since the day we met.
“Fine. Tell me. But I swear to God, Claire. There better be a good reason—”
“She’s coming to class tonight.”
And just like that, it’s like the wind has been knocked out of me. “What? How? We’ve been sold out for weeks.”
Claire cringes. “The Salingers canceled.”
Damn it. The Salingers are a local couple, both vocally upset at Aurora’s return. In that case, I’m not worried about the empty spots.
I shrug, trying to hold my shit together. A larger storm than a town filled with assholes is brewing if Valerie decides to show up tonight.
The solution is simple. She can’t come.
“So,” I start while the ideas shuffle through my mind. “We have two vacancies. Can you call Val back and tell her you made a mistake? Tell her we’re booked. I’m not up for any of her games tonight.”
“She said she’s coming to collect.”
The way Claire says that, the way she’s looking at me now, she knows exactly what Valerie means by that phrase. It’s not exactly subtle. That’s not Valerie’s way.
My history with Valerie is complicated and not something I want Aurora anywhere near. My decisions over the last six years haven’t always been the best. Nothing could ever fill the gaping hole she left me with, but I carried on the best I could. My art kept me company in my darkest days, the sad, lonely man I had become. It was my safety, the thing I could run to when I had nothing else. But when it came to women, I checked my sanity at the door and gave in to that need without any regrets. At least, I did until about two months ago.
It turns out a one-night stand wasn’t all Valerie wanted from me that night we met. She had heard about Creek Canvas from one of her friends and stopped in for class. That’s back when I was lucky to book six to twelve students per session. She observed the class activities, eye-fucked me from across the room, and never even picked up a brush. So I did the only thing I could think of at the time and invited her to Franco’s for a drink, and then joined her at her hotel for a nightcap.
It wasn’t until the next morning that I found out Valerie owned the largest art gallery in Asheville. She had money, she had connections, and she wanted to help. It all seemed too good to be true, but wh
at other choice did I have? Probably plenty, but I convinced myself I had none and took the deal.
Valerie did me a solid with the business. We needed the boost, and I was so grateful, I offered to return the favor however she’d let me. At the time, yes, I meant it sexually, if that’s how she wanted to take it. Val is attractive, and there was something deeply encouraging in the fact that she’s a little older. More experienced. Plus, she lived far enough away that there would be no expectations. No labels. No commitment. It was perfect.
I made the mistake of repaying her generosity casually and continuously before I found out she was married. She never wore a ring, never spoke of a husband or kids, and I never asked.
No strings attached, that was the deal. When I found out the truth two months ago, I cut it off. Told her it was over. Stopped responding to her calls and texts. It was the easiest thing I’d ever done.
“I don’t want her here,” I grumble, already feeling defeated.
“It doesn’t matter, Jax. She was already on her way when she called. Are you going to tell Aurora?”
My mouth opens, but no words come out. There’s no reason she needs to get dragged into this, and even though we haven’t been together in years, the sight of a woman I’d once fucked might not bode well for me. She’ll be hurt.
With my jaw clenched tight, I exhale deeply to get a handle on my frustration. As much as I hate it, Claire did the right thing. She’s thinking with her business hat—thank God someone is. This is my mess, anyway. A mess I should figure out how to clean up quickly. Aurora’s presence is the only distraction I want in my life right now. And good or bad, I need her here to figure out what that means.
Valerie’s convertible pulls up to the curb twenty minutes before class starts—too early for there to be a line, but late enough that there’s no time to have the talk I’ve been mentally preparing for. Aurora and I are circling the stations, placing supplies and paint when Valerie breezes in through the café entrance. I only notice because Aurora greets her when she walks in.
“Hello,” Aurora says kindly. “Are you here for class? We’ll be opening in twenty minutes.”
The crimson-lipped smile Valerie gives her is rich with scorn. I almost laugh at how out-of-place she looks in her red wrap dress with its plunging neckline that reaches her waist and her diamond studded earrings heavy on each ear. Her raven black hair is shorter than when I saw her last, with her bangs falling so close to her lashes I fear her next blink may swallow them.
Her eyes flit from Aurora to me and then back again. Her smile widens.
I may not know much about Valerie Louise, but I know a challenge in her expression when I see one. Aurora is a threat, and Valerie is locked and loaded.
“No, dear. I’m here to visit a friend.” Her eyes return to me, softening slightly. “Hello, Jaxon. Long time no see.”
I feel Aurora’s probing eyes on me. Valerie doesn’t present herself like someone who would be just a friend to any man. With her cat-like eyes as she surveys her surroundings, she’s on the hunt, and it’s clear her prey is me.
“I’m just going to help Claire out in the other room,” Aurora says, backing slowly toward the door, her narrowed gaze filled with warning and questions directed at me.
“Claire’s fine in there.” I speak quickly, not wanting Aurora to get the wrong idea. “Stay.”
But with a locked jaw and a look telling me she doesn’t want to witness whatever is going on in this room between Valerie and me, Aurora bows her head and clears the door.
I sigh heavily, reaching for the back of my neck and squeezing it with my palm.
She needs to go. Now.
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything? What’s it been, Jax? Two months?”
I swallow against the heat scaling my shoulders and back. “Good to see you, Val.” My voice is flat. “Claire mentioned you’re taking a class tonight.”
She winces, and it’s clear she feels my indifference, but she recovers quickly, plastering a smile on her face. “I thought I’d come and check things out.” She throws her eyes around the room before resting her eyes on me. “We’re still using those old marketing materials to promote you in the gallery, but perhaps you’re in need of some new images.” She takes another step into the room. “Mind if I take a look around?”
Relief fills my chest. I’m not naïve enough to believe that’s truly why she’s here, but so far she’s all business.
“Go for it. You have fifteen minutes.”
I watch Valerie begin her cruise around the room, starting toward the back. Low cupboards line the entire wall with framed examples of Canvas and Wine paintings above them. She takes her time, eyeing each piece of art like she would one of her prospective gallery pieces. A single sunflower against a bright blue backdrop. Rock stairs leading to a creek. An owl perched upon a tree with curled branches and a bright orange sunset.
Not even one of these would make the cut. Valerie’s taste is too rich for simplicity. I see right through her. She’s putting on a show for me. She wants me to remember her influence in the art world. Unfortunately for her, I don’t value it the same as I used to.
“I think we should open up another studio in Asheville,” she says slowly, as if testing the waters. She doesn’t look at me. “What do you say, Jaxon? Your success here is astounding given the population. Let’s continue to build.”
I make a face, glad she can’t see me. “You suggest that like you have some stake in all this.”
This time she stops to turn, pinning me with her eyes. “Don’t I?”
A light laugh leaves me without meaning to, but I don’t care. Val is ridiculous, always has been, but this visit takes the cake. “No, you don’t. You’re not even an investor. You promoted my class in your gallery and passed out some brochures to local businesses. And it was incredibly nice of you, but that all came with a price. A price I’m no longer willing to pay. You have no right to come here and proposition me…again.”
She chuckles but pivots with a roll of her eyes, meandering around the room and pretending her interest lies in my craft. We both know that’s not why she’s here. “I’m offering you more, Jaxon,” she says, her tone growing harder. “More opportunities, customers, profits. The whole thing. You’ve always wanted to travel, and that’s exactly what you should be doing. Traveling, gathering inspiration, and delivering that inspiration to the studios. We hire instructors. We put studios near the colleges and work out some kind of program with the art school.”
“The answer is no.”
She whips her head around again. “You haven’t even considered it.”
“And I won’t.”
Her eyes narrow as her patience wanes. “I would have never started helping you if I didn’t see a potential partnership here. I’m not done with you yet.”
“But I’m done with you,” I spit the words back, slowly, so she can digest them. I’m past the point of subtlety.
The sight of bright red hair in my peripheral catches my attention as Claire enters the room with a perky smile on her face. “Can I get you something to drink, Valerie? Beer, wine, water?”
Valerie doesn’t even glance at Claire. She simply waves her hand in the air, still stewing from my words. “Chardonnay is fine.”
“Coming right up.”
“Where’s Aurora?” I whisper for only Claire to hear.
“Working the register while I tend to your special guest,” she whispers back. Her eyes flicker between us. “Thank me later.” And then Claire walks out.
I will thank her later. It’s not like I’ve been saving myself for Aurora all these years, but I certainly don’t want her to know about Valerie. It would only complicate things. But with Claire watching my back and Aurora in the other room, maybe tonight won’t be as bad as I thought.
“You’ve been staying away, Jax. It’s clear now that was on purpose.” Her voice reaches me from the other side of the room. Her tone says she’s
ready for a challenge.
I know what this is. Smart women leave men little room to turn them down. Val thinks she has me by the balls because once upon a time, her promotion single-handedly saved this studio and the café from an early demise. But times have changed.
Who knows what Val has up her sleeve tonight, but one thing is certain. Whatever business she thinks we’re still doing together needs to end tonight. I walk toward her, ready to lay down the law.
After a few seconds of leveling my planned response to something less hostile, I stop, just inches from her. She’s leaning with her back against the front of my desk, her shoulders pushed back, a wicked glean in her eyes. A couple months ago, this would have turned me on. It would have been so easy to promise Val that I’d meet her in her hotel after I finished working. We’d share a bottle of wine and go at it all night long.
“It’s for the best. You know that, Val. You shouldn’t have come.”
Her raspy chuckle is like sandpaper to my ears. “C’mon. You don’t even miss me a little?” she urges, pushing off from the desk.
“Stop.” My voice is gruff, hard, but I don’t give a shit. “Don’t make me answer that.”
She laughs again, tossing her head back as she steps in front of me. “Let’s get out of here, Jaxon. Just you and me.”
My teeth scrape together firmly. “I’m working.”
“Not now, sugar.” I always hated when she placated me, but I allowed it before because I was numb. Dark. Empty. Things are different now. Even before Aurora returned, I could feel a difference. Learning about Valerie’s marriage felt like getting a bucket of ice dumped on me. I woke up. I realized how unhappy I must have been to have completely missed something everyone else seemed to already know. I could have ruined a marriage.
She drags one of her long, dark red fingernails across my sternum and up to my collar, but I take a big step back. More grating laughter permeates the air. She loves this. Me pushing her away. It’s like foreplay to her.
“Let me buy you a drink when this thing is over. Like old times. Loosen you up a bit. What do you say?”
