Not Your Average Joe (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective Book 2)

by Brooke St. James

  I had two choices. I could let all these doubts and feelings and frustrations make me quit doing art, or I could keep going, and since I didn't plan on quitting, I had no other choice but to fake it till I made it. For the most part, it wasn't that difficult for me to smile and act confident and happy even when I didn't feel it, so that's what I did. I assume I had great acting skills because no one ever knew the difference. So, there I was with all these personal feelings swirling around, about to set the stage for my big mistake.

  It was a romantic afternoon in a perfect house, with music, and friends, and laughter. Joe was more perfect than ever, and it was him I was ultimately attracted to. That was why I was so ashamed of myself for what ultimately happened.

  I had shared a passionate kiss in some storage room at the Steiner's home with a man who was not Joe Spicer at all.

  His name was Grant.

  He was one of the wedding guests Sarah and Collin had met while they were in Ireland. He was handsome, and sweet, and his accent was obviously an added bonus. Our surroundings were incredibly charming, and I truly thought it was a perfectly rational decision of me to share a kiss with him.

  I was really hoping it would make me forget about Joe, but it didn't, and I knew that right after we kissed. The worst part was that Grant was really nice. He smiled and told me I was beautiful, which made me feel even worse about the whole thing.

  I breathlessly and regretfully told him he should leave ahead of me so that we didn't get caught. I said dinner was about to get started since that was the truth. He left, and I waited in the storage room for about two minutes before opening the door.

  No one had been around when we went in there, and I didn't hear anything, so I assumed I'd open the door to an empty hallway.

  I was wrong.

  Sarah was walking directly toward me, and she smiled at me when I caught her eye. "Heyyy," she said. Her face changed as she began to curiously take in my surroundings. "What's in there?" she asked peering around me even though she was still a few feet from me.

  I stepped into the hallway, closing the closet door behind me. "I took a wrong turn," I said, trying not to seem nervous. "It's really been a beautiful day," I said. "Everything was picture perfect."

  My heart was pounding, and I felt sick to my stomach at my own situation, but I had to shift the attention back to Sarah and her wedding since that was way more important than my drama.

  "I was just trying to find my way back to the party," I said.

  I was planning on walking off, but I felt her finger come up and touch my chin, right near my lower lip. I pulled back and looked at Sarah, who was staring at me with a patient, extremely curious expression that made me feel restless and defensive. I stepped to the side, making what I hoped was a calm, happy face.

  "You have lipstick right there," she said, staring at me like a skeptical best friend who knew I'd been kissed.

  My heart raced as I reached up to touch my chin. "I barely even had any lipstick on, and I—"

  "I know, but there's some glitter down there," she said. "I could see it in the light. And I can just tell."

  I let out a little laugh. I felt frustrated and ashamed like I had definitely made the wrong choice by kissing Grant.

  "Who was it?" she asked, looking happy for me and excited to hear the scoop.

  I stared down shyly and shook my head. "Who was what?" I asked, pretending not to know what she was talking about.

  "Who was it that made you get lipstick all the way down there?" she asked sweetly.

  She smiled at me before her face shifted to one of slight concern. I could tell she thought it was odd that I didn't want to talk to her about it, but I just couldn't let myself tell her what happened. I knew it wasn't a big deal for me to kiss a guy, but I was still embarrassed about how it went down with Grant and all the feelings for her brother that were wrapped up with it.

  "I can't believe you're not gonna tell me," she said when I remained silent. She tried to seem playful but I knew she wanted me to say more.

  "I seriously don't know what you're talking about," I said.

  Sarah, the beautiful bride, folded her arms across her chest and squinted at me. "You got kissed, Lu."

  I smiled and shook my head innocently. "What?" I asked. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  I pulled a small mirror out of the clutch I had strapped to my wrist and checked my face, which was not nearly as out of order as I thought it would be. I made a quick swipe across my lower lip area before stashing the mirror in my bag with a smile aimed at Sarah.

  "Let's go to dinner," I said as I roped my arm in hers. "I'm starving."

  Chapter 3

  From the perspective of a girl who had just regretfully kissed one man out of the desire for another man, the wedding dinner was so awkward it was comical.

  Our seating arrangements had been carefully mapped out before we ever got there, and Mrs. Steiner had no way of knowing the predicament I would have gotten myself into, but she positioned me painfully close to both Joe and Grant.

  Grant was sitting next to the guy who was sitting at my right, and since he was comfortable with that person, he asked if they could trade places. This put him directly next to me. He kept leaning over to speak to me.

  Joe, on the other hand was sitting directly across from us. It was one of those giant tables you'd imagine in a medieval castle, so even though Joe was right across from me, he was still about 5 feet away. The people sitting at my side, Grant on my right and Emily on my left, were definitely closer, so they made conversation with me the whole time. It would have been weird for me to ignore them in favor of trying to talk to Joe from across the table, especially when he was engaged in conversation with his family who were sitting on that side.

  Dinner was served in courses and seemed to take forever. Everyone was having a great time, though, and I found it was easy to keep a smile on my face in spite of my own feelings and nerves.

  Several times during dinner, I made eye contact with Joe, and each time, my heart either sped up, or stopped beating completely—I couldn't tell. All I knew was that my chest felt funny every time our eyes met. I could steal glances of him any time, and manage to not be so affected, but the second he looked back at me and our eyes met, I felt a gut-clenching, chest-aching sensation that took my breath away.

  His hair was longer, and it was combed away from his face. I scanned the edges of his face, studying it with an artist's eye. The lines, and proportion, and symmetry were all so perfect that I couldn't help but get lost staring at it. His face was literally the most pleasing thing I had ever seen. He was what I'd draw if I tried to give a face to perfection. His eyes, which were some shade of greenish-hazel, were light at the center and dark around the edges. Even from all the way across the table and with low lighting, I could see the striking pattern.

  More than a few times, he and I looked straight at each other, and each time it happened, I could only hold eye contact for a second or two before glancing away. I always broke it before he did. It was like my eyes could only handle a certain level of exposure. He was too gorgeous. He was masculine, yet well groomed, and he carried himself with all the confidence of a man who went to the best schools and grew up surrounded by New York's elite, which he did.

  His confidence became all too apparent when he and his brother gave an unforgettable speech. Several people gave speeches during the dinner, but none compared to Eli and Joe's. Eli started the speech by clanging his fork to a glass to get everyone's attention. He spoke for a minute before Joe interjected with a hilarious comment, which led to him telling a story about Sarah when she was a kid. He and Eli went back and forth in an exchange that was hilarious and heartwarming. It was so entertaining that people accused them of rehearsing the whole thing, which they one hundred percent denied.

  If I wasn't before, I was helplessly enchanted with Joe Spicer by the end of that speech. It was one thing to make a study of his appearance from an artist's perspective, but it
was another thing all together to see him in action—the way his eyes squinted and his cheeks creased when he smiled. Breathtaking.

  I felt jealous of any girl who had ever been close to Joe. I felt ashamed that I kissed a guy without even liking him. I felt nervous at the proximity of both of the guys, and on top of that, I had my own emotions in the mix. It was bad timing on my part to be dealing with insecurities during all of this, but insecurities are not the easiest creatures to shake. I smiled and acted natural, but I was on autopilot and had, to some extent, checked out mentally. I tried to ignore my feelings altogether, which meant I succumbed to a certain numbness.

  It was near the end of dessert when Sarah and Collin left, headed for their honeymoon in a nearby castle. It happened quickly. One minute we were sitting around the table, finishing dessert, and the next, we were rushing outside with confetti to throw at them as they were leaving.

  Drake, ever the master at setting up picture perfect moments, had sparkling confetti with little streamers that hung in the air when you threw it. He demonstrated how it worked with a handful of it right before Sarah and Collin came out so we'd know what to expect.

  There was a grand farewell, and the next thing I knew, we were all just standing there looking at the back of their car.

  An arm came around my shoulder, and I glanced to my right to find Grant. His grip around me was feather light, so I easily stepped to the side, playing it off like I hadn't even noticed it was there.

  "It's yer las night here," he said with a huge grin. "Ye've got to let me take ye to a pub."

  Joe was standing close enough to hear us, a fact which made me feel nauseated.

  "I think I'll stay here," I said, looking tired and regretful. "Thank you, though. I'm glad you got to come to the wedding."

  "Are ye sure?" he said. "We know the best places in town. We could give ye the insider's tour."

  "You're so sweet for asking, but I'm afraid I'm too tired," I said.

  I would never in my normal life use the phrase "I'm afraid", but I was nervous, and that made me say things I wouldn't normally say.

  "I'm not too tired," Joe said. He came to stand near Grant and me, stretching and popping his knuckles like he was ready for action. And, simply because he had a magnetic personality, a few others joined the group. Suddenly, Grant had several willing American tourists. Emily, along with Eli and his wife, Rebecca, came over—all looking interested in whatever Joe was getting into.

  "Perfect," Grant said, looking around at all of them. "We'll get a whole crew together, and go get into some trouble." He glanced at me with raised eyebrows. "Ye wanna change your mind?"

  "I'd like to change my clothes," Emily interjected. This drew agreements from Joe, Rebecca, and Eli.

  Joe nudged his chin at Grant. "If you give me the address of the place, we can just get a group together and meet you there."

  "Yeah, and maybe we can talk Lu into coming by the time we leave," Emily said, with an arm around my shoulder.

  I smiled even though I hated myself for wanting to change my mind now that I knew Joe would be there. "We'll see," I said, shrugging.

  Everyone began to make their way back inside with talk of resting and cleaning up for an hour or so before heading into the city. Grant, along with the other Ireland guests, left after Sarah and Collin drove away. We said goodbye to them before we went in, and Joe promised Grant and the others he would see them later with whoever wanted to go to the pub.

  We had just stepped inside when Mr. Steiner came up beside me putting a hand on the back of my arm. "My wife asked me to show you to your new room," he said. "She had to have Madeline move your things so we could use that room for someone else. I think one of the gentleman from the London crew has trouble with stairs."

  I nodded and smiled at him. "Yes sir, she told me I'd be switching rooms tonight. I wasn't sure if she'd already moved my things."

  "Well, as far as I understand, she has. And I happen to know the location of your new room." He stuck his arm out for me. "I'd be delighted to show you to it."

  "We're gonna be leaving in an hour," Joe announced, walking backward across the entryway. He pointed at the floor. "Anyone who's coming, meet us back here."

  Everyone disbursed, and I walked with Mr. Steiner up some stairs and down a wide hallway. "Saul and Rhonda are right over there," he said, gesturing to a door further down the hall as we stopped in front of what I assumed was my new room. He opened the door and stepped inside, inviting me to follow him.

  "This is so nice," I said. I glanced at him and we shared a little smile. He wasn't short or anything, but for whatever reason, he reminded me of a hobbit—maybe it was the bulbous nose. Anyway, he came across as sweet and quietly cheerful. I felt comfortable in his presence, which was why I instinctually let out a sigh and let my shoulders slump.

  "Busy day," he said, reaching out to run his hand up and down the top part of my arm in a comforting way.

  "Yes sir," I said. I knew my voice came out sounding puny, and there was nothing I could do about it. I felt sad, and I had been faking it so much all day, that it was simply impossible to continue the act anymore.

  "Are you all right, sweetheart?" he asked, sounding every bit like a dad. I wanted to cry. I tried to glance into the empty space next to us to distract myself, but Mr. Steiner leaned to the side, putting himself into my line of vision. "Can I do something for you?" he asked.

  I stood there for a few seconds like a deer in the head lights, because I knew if I talked, my voice would come out too high or shaky, or both. I cleared my throat. "No sir," I said. "I'm fine."

  "You don't seem fine," he said.

  I shook my head, feeling disappointed with myself for not being able to keep it together. I knew tears were welling in my eyes as he stared at me.

  "I'm super happy for Sarah and Collin. I don't want you to think it's that. I love being here, and everything. I…" I hesitated. "I, uh, think I'm just managing to have a terrible day on a great day if that's even possible. It really was a great day."

  He smiled at me before pulling me closer to him in a comforting, fatherly way. I hugged him, and it didn't feel forced or uncomfortable at all. In fact, I needed the contact. I was thankful for the excuse to stare downward, and I rested my forehead on his shoulder.

  "Unfortunately, sweetheart, it's extremely easy to have a terrible day in the midst of a perfect one. It happens to people all the time."

  "I'm super happy for Sarah," I said.

  "Me too," he said. "They're a good young couple."

  "I've got my own stuff going on."

  "Like what?" he asked.

  I meant to refrain from elaborating, but Mr. Steiner seemed sincere and in no hurry to get back to what he was doing. I must have needed to vent or just wanted his advice, because I proceeded to tell him everything.

  Chapter 4

  "I make this art," I said.

  "I remember," Mr. Steiner said kindly. "I saw pictures of it last night."

  I smiled. "I didn't know if you'd remember since there are so many of us."

  "Of course I do, Lu," he said. He used a hand on my back to lead me to the center of the room where there was a small seating area with a couch. He took a seat on it. "The long-bodied figures in black?" he asked, trying to remember what my art looked like. He had done a good job of describing my style, and I smiled and nodded as I sat next to him. He sat back and looked at me like he had all the time in the world. "I quite liked what I saw of your work," he said.

  I tried to manage a smile, but it was hard since I'd been doing it all day. "Thank you," I said. "I really have no reason to be upset," I said with a sigh.

  "What's going on with your art?" he asked, since that's where I started.

  "It's great," I said. "I'm working at a coffee shop part time, but I'm starting to get more commissions—mostly through social media. I'll be staying at that Shower & Shelter place I was telling everyone about, so I'll have free rent for the next couple of years. Hopefully, it'll
work out where I can quit the coffee shop and focus on my art full-time."

  "I remember you saying that," he said. "Isn't that exciting news?"

  "It would be if I knew what I was doing," I said letting the hopelessness I'd been feeling show on my face. I barely even knew this man, and I already felt indebted to him for sitting there while I let my guard down.

  "It's one thing for me to think of something to create, and make it happen, but the market is so competitive. There are more artists in New York than you can shake a stick at. If I want to make any money, I really have to be open to commissions. You know, work with people on size, and subject matter, and everything—conform to the guidelines they set."

  "And you don't like to be told what to draw?" he assumed in a non-judgmental way.

  "It's not that," I said. "I'm just nervous about it. I have enough insecurities when I sit down to make art as it is—even when the subject matter is my idea, I still worry that my stuff isn't good enough to sell."

  "Oh, you must be kidding," he said. "I saw for myself how talented you are, sweetheart. You studied at Columbia!"

  I smiled and glanced downward. "Thank you for saying that. I really appreciate it." I paused and sighed thoughtfully. "Thankfully, so far, I've had enough confidence in my ability to keep pushing forward, but sometimes it's hard. Sometimes I just feel like I don't know what I'm doing—like I'm constantly making it up as I go along."

  Mr. Steiner let out a hearty laugh at that. He slapped a hand to my knee. "Oh, Lu honey. All of life is winging it. None of us know what we're doing. That feeling's not reserved for artists. I'm in banking. I've had a thirty-year career, and I still feel insecure and incapable all the time. I press through that feeling. I always have. That's just what you have to do."