“Jesus, Siobhán,” she managed when she lifted her head. “The things you do to me ...”
“You love every minute of it,” Siobhán said smugly.
“That I do,” Annie admitted with a contented sigh. “That I do.”
***
Despite Annie’s niggling worry, things went smoothly for the next few weeks. Annie had a spring in her step as she got up in the mornings, and she made good progress on her blog. Siobhán seemed content and happy as she painted. And they spent nearly every night together.
Today, Siobhán was out running errands and meeting with Gabriel at the gallery about some kind of summer art fair. The blog had launched that morning, and Annie had already been working for a few hours. She stood up from the chair in the kitchen and reached her arms as high overhead as she could while she stretched her back. She put on the kettle, then wandered around the apartment for a few moments to get her blood flowing while the water heated.
She’d always been a coffee drinker, but Siobhán had an extensive collection of teas, and Annie had really begun to enjoy drinking them. After the kettle whistled, Annie brewed the tea, then slowly walked through the apartment, waiting for the tea to cool to a drinkable temperature. She spotted her purse hanging on the hook by the door and her shoes stacked beside Siobhán’s. In the bedroom, Siobhán had cleared a drawer and some closet space for her. She’d even installed another little shelf next to the sink just for Annie so she didn’t have to keep hauling her toiletries back and forth.
Annie let out a small satisfied sigh at the sight of her things beginning to mingle with Siobhán’s. It filled her with a sense of contentment, and she wondered if she should just move in officially. If not for the lingering worry that issues with Laura would crop up again, Annie probably wouldn’t hesitate. But that had yet to fully dissipate. And she didn’t want to be hasty.
As she meandered through the living room, Annie spotted the backs of several canvases propped against the wall on the far side of the room. She wondered if they were from some of the newer things Siobhán had done or if they were older works. She knew Siobhán kept a bunch of canvases in the large closet off the living room, although she’d never seen them up close. They were usually wrapped in cloth and carefully stored.
Annie flipped the first one over and studied it. It was of a woman, sprawled face down on the bed, her blonde hair spread out across the pillow. There was a voyeuristic, sexual feel to it that left Annie feeling flushed. Had Siobhán been painting her in her sleep?
The next piece made her pause for longer. It was also abstract, but something about it reminded Annie of two intertwined bodies. There was a splash of dark and another of gold in a sea of white. She smiled at the sight. It looked like Siobhán had painted them together. The same raw, sexual energy suffused the piece, and Annie felt her blood heat at the sight.
The next two were similar, although the face of the blonde was clearer. Annie tilted her head and studied the final one. It was her, but ... not. Something about it seemed off. Like looking in a slightly distorted mirror. The hair seemed longer too. She shrugged and set it down carefully. Siobhán was the artist. Nothing said she had to represent Annie exactly. Annie was probably reading way too much into some slashes of paint. How many times had she and Siobhán joked about people trying to read too much into art? A little bit of artistic license was to be expected.
Annie carefully returned the stack of paintings to their original spot, facing the wall. She assumed Siobhán was concerned about them getting bleached out and faded by the sun until she did whatever she was going to do with them.
Annie wondered why Siobhán hadn’t shown any of the pieces to her. She’d shown Annie most of her paintings of Annie in the past. She felt a sudden stab of guilt, hoping she hadn’t ruined some surprise Siobhán was planning. She’d feel terrible about that.
***
Annie was hard at work a few hours later when Siobhán returned. She rubbed Annie’s shoulders for a minute, then bent down to press a kiss to the top of her hair. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty well.” Annie yawned, her jaw cracking a little. “The blog went live this morning, and we’ll just have to wait and see. Traffic seems good so far, and there are a few comments. I’m trying to make sure I answer them promptly. Oh, and thanks for the marketing tips, by the way. I’ve never really had to use social media to promote my ‘brand’ before.” She made a face.
“It’s my least favorite part about being an artist, but you get used to it.” Siobhán squeezed her shoulders. “I hope you know how proud of you I am. You’ve been working so hard. I know it’s going to be a huge success.”
“God, I hope so,” Annie said fervently. “I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s a flop.”
“Well, we’ll cross that bridge if we have to. For now, I want you to be positive about things.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Annie said teasingly. She closed the lid of her laptop. Now that everything was underway she could afford to take a little while to relax. “How was your day?”
“Good. The plans for the art fair are coming along. Some of the gallery staff will be manning the booths, but I think I’ll stop by a few times. Mingle with people looking to buy.”
“They’d be fools to not buy your work,” Annie said. She thought of the paintings in the living room and frowned, wondering if she should say something to Siobhán about them or not. Nah, better not to, in case it was meant to be a surprise. “That’s not for a few weeks though, isn’t it?”
“No. I was just trying to figure out what to display. Gabriel’s going to offer some limited edition prints at lower price points for people who might be impulse buying. I was trying to decide if I should paint a few small canvases for the fair as well. Quick, simple things I can dash off to have on hand.”
“Can’t hurt, right?”
“Exactly.” Siobhán hummed. “Oh, Gabriel’s doing some prints of your banner art, by the way. You should get some more business cards printed so I can put them near the prints. Maybe we can lure a few people to your blog that way.”
“Clever idea.” Annie smiled at her.
“I think we make a rather good team,” Siobhán said with a smile.
“I do too,” Annie said, reaching out to take Siobhán’s hand. “I feel so lucky to have you in my life.”
“Me too,” Siobhán said softly. She frowned at Annie’s mug. “Although ... have you been breaking into my stash of tea again?”
Annie chuckled and stood to take the empty teapot and mug over to the sink to wash.
“I have.”
“Cheeky.” Siobhán grinned at her. “I guess I’ll have to console myself that it wasn’t my biscuits.”
“Whatever happened to ‘make yourself at home, Annie’? Or ‘here’s a key. I want you to move in’?”
Siobhán laughed. “All bets are off when it comes to tea and biscuits, you chancer.” But she winked, and Annie knew she was just teasing.
“Good thing I’m not that big a fan of cookies,” Annie said as she set the clean dishes on the counter
Siobhán rolled her eyes. “They’re biscuits!”
“Cookies,” Annie teased as she walked back to the table, knowing she could get a rise out of her girlfriend.
Siobhán grabbed Annie around the waist and tugged her onto her lap. “I love you so damn much, Annie Slocum,” she muttered.
“I love you too.” Annie shifted and cupped Siobhán’s cheek in her hand. “I never thought I could be this happy.”
Chapter Fifteen
October
“I need to run some canvases over to the gallery, then stop at the store.” Annie looked up from the book she was reading to see Siobhán leaning over her. “I have an order placed for some supplies, and it just came in, so I’m going to take care of it all at once. Want me to pick up lunch on my way back?”
“Sure.” Annie smiled up at her. Siobhán smiled back but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She’d seemed a little off in the last
few days, and Annie wasn’t sure why. “That sounds nice.”
“Is there anything you’d like?”
“Hmm. The poppy seed chicken wraps from the deli around the corner?”
“I can do that.” Siobhán kissed her briefly, then straightened. She lifted a nylon carrier onto her shoulder.
All morning, Siobhán had been fussing with the mysterious paintings that had been tucked in the corner of the living room for weeks, and now she was transporting them in a large carrier with a thick, nylon strap. Annie assumed she was taking them to the gallery for the upcoming art fair next week, but she hadn’t specifically said anything about them to Annie.
“Do you need help with that?” Annie asked.
Siobhán shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ll see you in a few hours.” She disappeared around the corner, and Annie heard the door open.
“Love you!” Annie called out. But the door closed with no answer from Siobhán. Annie frowned. Odd. But maybe Siobhán hadn’t heard her.
She tucked a bookmark into the book and set it on the ottoman beside Siobhán’s laptop where she’d left it that morning. Siobhán had been up well before Annie, although she hadn’t been painting as usual. She’d just been sitting on the couch, staring at her laptop screen. When Annie had walked in, she’d looked startled and set her laptop down.
When Annie asked what was wrong, Siobhán had assured her it was just an issue with a potential client. But she’d seemed distracted and distant in the past few days, and Annie wondered if she should do something to surprise her.
It couldn’t cost a lot of money—she was pretty broke at the moment with all the money she had put into getting the blog up and running—but maybe she could come up with something inexpensive. Siobhán was already going to pick up lunch, but maybe Annie could make dinner ... no, maybe not dinner. Dessert? That would work. Siobhán loved dark chocolate, and now that she thought about it, it was the right time in Siobhán’s cycle for her to be PMS-ing. Maybe that was why she’d seemed off lately. The obvious solution was a pan of extra-fudgy brownies.
Annie stood, grabbed her phone, and walked to the kitchen as she brought up her favorite brownie recipe. Once she was sure what she needed, she peered in the cupboards and refrigerator to see if Siobhán had all the ingredients on hand. She paused when she realized a photo was missing from the little collage on the freezer door; Siobhán had taken the clam digging photo down. She hadn’t replaced it with anything, and the bare spot was glaringly obvious.
Annie stared at the blank space for a moment before she shrugged. Maybe Siobhán had decided she didn’t need reminders of her past anymore. Annie smiled to herself at the thought and opened the refrigerator again to grab the butter and eggs. She’d bake the brownies for Siobhán now and surprise her when she got home. She couldn’t wait to see Siobhán’s face.
It didn’t take Annie long to stir together melted butter and dark cocoa powder, then mix in the remaining ingredients. A short while later, she slid the pan into the pre-heated oven. She set a timer on her phone, then reached for the spatula. She licked it clean, smiling with pleasure at the thought of how much Siobhán would enjoy them. She wandered back to the living room, thinking about the rest of her day.
Hmm, what to do next? she wondered.
Work on the blog, probably, but unlike before, she didn’t dread it. It was such a good feeling to actually look forward to her job.
Annie strode into Siobhán’s bedroom to retrieve her laptop bag. She took it into the kitchen and set up at the little table by the window. It wasn’t until she went to plug it in that she realized she’d forgotten to grab her laptop charger before she left her apartment.
“Damn it,” she muttered. That was the bad part about going back and forth between the two places. She was always forgetting something important at one or the other. She kept a charger for her phone at Siobhán’s but she hadn’t gotten around to getting a second one for her laptop.
She powered up her computer anyway, figuring she could work for a while before it shut down, then groaned when she realized her battery was already dead. Unfortunately, Siobhán’s charger was a completely different style and wouldn’t help. She could do it on her phone, but it would take twice as long.
Hmm, Annie pondered. What to do? She brightened when she realized Siobhán’s laptop was there. Surely Siobhán wouldn’t mind her using her computer again. Annie could type up an outline of her ideas in a document and email it to herself from Siobhán’s account. Easy enough.
She retrieved Siobhán’s laptop from the living room and turned it on, her mind humming with ideas about what to tackle next.
The blog was doing well. Readership had been increasing steadily since the launch a few weeks ago, and Annie had contacted a few businesses that seemed interested in advertising. Next, she was going to look into networking with other bloggers to see if she could draw in traffic that way.
Intending to search for blogs to network with, she minimized the document and brought up the browser. It was open to Siobhán’s email. Annie moved the cursor over the “new tab” option when two words sprang out at her. Miss you, they said.
That could be from her father, Annie argued with herself, trying not to give into the temptation to check. Although Annie knew Sean Murray and Siobhán had hardly spoken since Aileen Murray’s death, so that was unlikely. It could be a cousin or a friend she hasn’t seen in a while, she argued with herself. But against her better judgement, Annie’s gaze returned to the text, unable to stop herself from reading just a few more lines.
It was great seeing you the other day, Siobhán. Lunch with you was ... well, it made me think a lot about the time we spent together. I miss that. Miss you.
You asked me if I was happy with Prescott, and I have been. But it’s a different kind of happy. I have two beautiful children, a devoted husband, and the kind of life I’ve always wanted. But being with him isn’t like being with you. It isn’t crazy and passionate like when we were together. There’s no nude modeling on the rooftop while my lover paints me. No nearly getting caught kissing in the fountain at City Square Park. No weekend marathons in bed that leave me so dehydrated I pass out.
I thought I was content, but you were right. I can never be completely happy with him. With any man. God, Siobhán, you made me crazy. Why did you let me go? Why didn’t you stop me? Fight for me?
I thought I’d put things with you behind me, but imagine my surprise when I went to a party and saw one of your paintings hanging in the living room. I got so flushed, wondering what that stuffy crowd would think of the time we made love under the stars at the Outer Banks with my family a little ways down the beach.
I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that, and I knew I had to see you again.
Annie’s stomach dropped, and she swallowed hard. Outer Banks? That has to be Laura. Annie pressed her hand over her mouth as she continued reading, the words swimming in front of her watery eyes.
I know you said you were seeing someone, but if you still care about me the way I think you do, meet me at The Charles Hotel in Cambridge today at noon. Prescott thinks I’m visiting some friends from college. I’ll be in room 532. Come straight up to the room, knock once, and I’ll let you in.
Please, darling, I need to feel your touch again.
Always your muse,
-Laura
Tears finally spilled over and down her cheeks. Annie futilely wiped at them as a gut-wrenching sob escaped her.
No, no, no. This can’t be happening. Siobhán wouldn’t go behind my back. Siobhán loves me; she would never cheat on me, Annie thought.
But it was Laura. The one woman Siobhán had never gotten over. And the irrefutable proof was right in front of her. A sent message from Siobhán that said: I’ll be there.
How could you do this to me, Siobhán? Annie thought, her heart aching. I trusted you!
She could hardly see the screen in front of her as she typed in the name listed in Siobhán’s email along with a few
keywords. It took almost no time to find the right Laura Caldwell and her politician husband, Prescott. Despite her blurry, tear-filled vision, she felt a cold sense of shock as she stared at the pictures of the woman on the screen.
Laura and Annie were so alike it was almost eerie. From the honey-blonde hair, to their blue eyes, to the shape of their jaws, they could have been sisters. Laura appeared to be a bit above average height for a woman—like Annie—and slender. Annie had an uncharitable thought that she’d probably age better than Laura since Laura had a deep summer tan.
But it was small comfort as she realized that Siobhán hadn’t just been pining after Laura. She’d clearly been trying to replace her. Annie felt a sick lurch in her stomach as she thought about the paintings Siobhán had taken with her earlier today. Are they a present for Laura? Annie wondered. Old memories of their time together?
How could she have been so stupid, thinking that the paintings had been of her? They had been of Laura. Pictures from another time when Siobhán had everything she’d wanted.
A shrill sound startled Annie, and it took her a moment to realize it was the timer going off on her phone. She clumsily managed to turn it off. With tears streaming from her eyes, she turned off the hot oven and retrieved the brownies. She set them on the cutting board beside the sink, not caring when the pan slid off and clattered into the empty sink.
Annie sank to the floor, sliding down the cabinet front until she sat with her knees drawn up. She wrestled the bulky oven mitts off and threw them across the room where they smacked the recycling bin and made it rattle.
Annie put her head down and sobbed against her denim-clad knees, the moisture quickly soaking them.
Siobhán kissed me goodbye and ran off to be with Laura. The thought made her stomach churn. Of course, when Laura contacted her, Siobhán went running, Annie thought bitterly, but why didn’t she at least have the decency to end things first? Is she planning to fuck me and Laura at the same time?
A Brighter Palette Page 15
