by Allie Burke
“Sorry to say, but the other ones don’t compare,” Lily said from the stage. “Its like you found your element.”
Elias lifted his fist to his mouth to keep himself from laughing at the irony of her statement. He was luckily saved by voices outside.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
He nodded. Lily propped open the door, and four women walked in, all dressed in similar cocktail attire. He introduced himself, occupying them with small talk and joining them for a tour of the gallery. Shortly, more and more people began pouring in. After an hour or so, the place was buzzing with people.
Lily walked up the small steps to the stage, and everyone instantly quieted, gathering around her. Elias stood behind the crowd.
“Thank you all for coming,” she began. “You know, I don’t do very many of these things, most artists are impossible to talk to, they’re all so mentally unstable they just want to go hide in their rooms and cover themselves in paint.”
Everyone laughed.
“That Elias could be anything other than an artist would be inconceivable. His grandmother, Eve Hadley, has been remembered in this area for her artistic visionaries, his aunt, Jeanine Hadley, is our very own Hazel Grove Picasso.”
Whispers. Anyone who had ever stepped foot in any gallery in California knew who Jeanine Hadley was. The fact that Elias was related to her, it made them feel important, honored as they stood in the same room as her nephew. That was why she wasn’t here. Don’t want to steal your fire, she always said.
Lily waved her hands, displaying the art that surrounded her. “His pieces are nothing short of phenomenal. His insights, his intellect, his brilliance, it makes me feel proud to hang his treasures on my gallery walls.” Lily smiled at Elias. “Friends, it is my great pleasure, to introduce you to Elias Linden.”
The deep applauds that filled the building were overwhelming as Elias walked up to the stage. He hugged Lily, thanking her in a whisper.
“Thank you,” he said, turning to the crowd. He didn’t have to project his voice, it was already so deep, he had no desire to scare everyone half to death. “Thank you for being here. The support of all of you tonight, it’s an honor, really.” He found himself looking around. “This place, it hasn’t ever been just a gallery for any artist I know. We’ve found a place that cares, not just about us, really cares about the art, treats every piece with diligence, a real regard for the beauty in them.” He looked over at his friend. “I wouldn’t let any other person in the world handle my art, other than Lily Cavanaugh.”
As happy tears welled up in Lily’s eyes, the place erupted into cheers. He kissed her cheek, and stepped down. He escaped the large room for a moment, giving everyone a chance to get a drink, break up a little. He came back out, found a group of thirty-something women to talk with. Suddenly Elias had an overbearing wish to go outside. He needed a break. The special blend that Jane mixed up for him must be wearing off.
Suddenly the entire room fell completely silent. He looked around at the women he stood with. Each faced the door.
He looked over, and had to lean against the wall for leverage. Her beauty nearly stole his consciousness away. Jane walked in, dressed in a black dress that hugged her every curve so perfectly, it was a good thing he didn’t trust his ability to walk at the moment, or he would have pulled her in the bathroom and locked the door and never came out again. Her hair hung around her in loose curls, the typical wildness of it gone. She smiled at him, and he stopped breathing.
The women around him flipped their heads around with an attitude that was so rich, they could have been teenagers. Jealous. They had a good reason. Their husbands were still staring at Jane. Some of them hadn’t even bothered to wipe the drool away. He had no choice but to force himself to continue with his conversation, not like he could do what he really wanted, disappear with her. Eventually, people started leaving, and after a short while, the gallery was empty. Even Jane had disappeared. Had she left with everyone else? He walked to the back of the gallery to a large auction room, his tenseness dispersing at the sight of her. Her bare back peeked out of the low dress as she admired Starry Night. She had it at home; he wondered how it still mesmerized her. Maybe it took her somewhere else, a quiet, peaceful place. That’s what they did for him.
Right by the door stood a table with a small speaker dock and MP3 player on it. He turned it on, scrolled to the D’s. Luckily, the song was on it. He pressed play.
Jane turned, and quickly covered her face with her hands. Her embarrassed smile peeked out from under them. He walked towards her, and he removed her hands from her face.
“Dance with me.”
Her cheeks were so red they were the color of strawberries.
“Come on,” he said. “Let me prove that I really am a gentleman.”
Her cheeks reddened even more. She looked mortified. He couldn’t help but laugh.
He pulled her close, and they danced. Jane was very graceful. She seemed to know his next move before he did. He twirled her, and pulled her back to him.
“You’re not clumsy at all,” he said.
“I told you.”
The song ended just then, but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he pulled her closer. She gazed at him, her beautiful green eyes begging him to do it. He lifted his hand to her cheek and he kissed her. The sensation was unreal. He felt the ocean. He could hear it, the waves lightly crashing down. He felt it, the light breeze, the spray of mist on his back. He ignored all of it, just focusing on her, the maker of the passion that fueled him.
He felt Jane’s arms wrap around him, and then she was kissing him. Her lips were hungry for him as she moved her hips to press up against him. He groaned. He lifted her up into his arms. She responded, fastening her legs in a knot around his waist. He carried her to the wall, pushing her against it, using the structure to bring her closer. She moaned for him. And then, as quickly as it started, it was over. She placed her hands on his cheeks and pushed his face away from her.
“Put me down,” she breathed.
It wasn’t the time or place, he knew that before he kissed her, but he got lost somewhere in between. He set her down, but stayed close. Their bodies still touching, he sighed, yearning for her.
“You look beautiful,” Elias said.
Her smile was interrupted by faint footsteps.
“Stand in front of me,” he said.
She laughed. The reason for his concern was obvious as she looked down at his pants. She maneuvered herself in front of him just as Lily entered the room. He wrapped his arms around her waist. For good measure.
Lily smiled at her. “You must be Jane.”
“Yes,” Jane modestly declared, offering her hand. “You have a beautiful gallery.”
“Thank you,” Lily shook her hand. She looked over Jane’s shoulder at Elias. “Why don’t you take off?”
Jane interjected. “That’s really not necessary, I’m sure he wants to help you clean up—” Jane attempted to remove herself from Elias’s grasp, but he refused to let her go. She tilted her head back to look into his eyes. “I’ll see you later—”
“Shhh,” he whispered, “she’s trying to get rid of me. You are a bad influence.”
More footsteps. Elias looked up as a glamorous woman walked in. She was very pretty.
“See?” he whispered to Jane. “She really wants us to leave.”
“Shut up,” Lily whispered back. She turned a little pink. Her cheeks had nothing on Jane’s, though. “Get out of here. I’m closing up for a couple weeks, anyway.”
“Finally going?”
Lily nodded with a happy grin.
“Where are you going?” Jane asked.
Lily inhaled an excited breath. “I’m going on vacation. Hawaii.”
“Dreadful place,” Jane said. “Too much sun.”
Grant Linden sat behind his desk in his office, straightening his tie. Emily had just left.
His office was very professional, no pictures of his wife or childr
en, the walls white and empty. It looked like he had just moved in, though he had occupied this corner office for several years.
Grant heard a knock on the door, and his boss entered.
Ian Hart was a plump man with a belly that protruded over his belt. He was well respected, fair, an all around good boss.
“Grant.” Fair as he was, he didn’t like to waste time. “Have you contacted your son?”
“You know very well that I don’t speak to my son, Ian.”
“I am aware of that, yes, but that’s not really an excuse. Have your wife call him if you don’t want to talk to him.”
“Ian—”
“Grant. I have kids. Surely you don’t want anything to happen to him, since—” he let the sentence float away.
Grant banged his fist on the desk loud enough for everyone in the building to hear. “Don’t you mention him to me. He was never my son. Elias is barely my son.”
“Barely or not, he’s your son. He doesn’t deserve to die because you don’t like him. Furthermore, I suggest you fix your tone. Quickly.” His tone never faltered. His expression stayed even. This was the reason he was the D.A.
Grant lowered his voice. “I’m not calling him. My wife is not calling him. I would appreciate if you wouldn’t, either.”
Ian didn’t say anything. Just walked calmly out the door.
Jane got in Elias’s car as he held the passenger door open for her. Aston Martin. Sleek, sexy, fast. Beautiful.
“Nice car,” Jane said.
He didn’t answer right away. She looked over at him. He stared at the road, thinking about something. He could have just said “thank you”, but he didn’t.
“It was my brother’s,” he said finally.
“Was?”
“He died.”
That was it. Not how, or when, or why, just “died”. She didn’t apologize. It was insulting when people said “I’m sorry” for the death of someone they didn’t know.
“Were you close? You know, some siblings aren’t really that close, but sometimes—” Jane clamped her lips together. She was babbling again.
Puzzled, he looked at her. It was a short moment before he sighed, and stared at the road again. “His name was Liam. He was my twin brother.”
Jane bit down on her lip. What right did she have, pressuring him to confess his grief, when she kept everything inside? Especially grief.
“I don’t like talking about him like he doesn’t exist,” he said. “It doesn’t feel right.”
Jane didn’t say anything else. They arrived at Elias’s house after a few minutes. He let her inside. She still hadn’t said anything. Neither had he. He approached her, pulled her close. She tried not to look at him, ashamed, but she didn’t have a choice. His finger hooked her chin, and her eyes met his.
“Come sleep with me,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. It was a very direct proposal to lovemaking.
He laughed. “No, sleep.”
She peered at the darkness under his eyes. It reminded her of her own sleepiness. They went to the bedroom, and he disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
She threw off her very uncomfortable black sandals, exhaling a relieved breath. She lifted the dress over her head, and found a big, black t-shirt in one of Elias’s dresser drawers. It fit her like a skimpy dress. She looked up as the bathroom door opened. Elias came out in his boxers, but she couldn’t look down from his eyes. He was staring at her. He groaned.
“It’s too big,” she said.
“So take it off.”
“Are you sure? You already promised me sleep.”
“Are you saying I can’t handle it?”
“Maybe you can’t.”
He tried not to smile, but the twitch in his lips flashed at her. He slipped under a single sheet and watched her, his elbow propped up on one of his pillows. She closed her eyes, willing her cheeks to stay cool, and she took the shirt off. She watched his Adam’s apple slide slowly down his neck. She hesitated for a moment, eyeing the bed fearfully. She reminded herself that Elias was watching her, and forced a smile. She slid in next to him gently. He reached over, twined his arm around her, and pulled her to him. A second passed, and she felt his excitement flare between her legs.
“You win,” he grunted.
“You lose,” she said, and she flipped around, only arching her butt into his groin a little bit before she fell asleep.
~ * ~
Jane woke up to a quiet house in the middle of the day. It was very odd for her to be up at this hour, but she was wide awake. She got out of bed and walked down the hallway to check for Annabelle in her room. She found her lying awake in her bed. She had something in her hand—Jane couldn’t make it out. Her other hand was on her chest. She looked awful. There were dark circles under her eyes, more wrinkles on her face than yesterday.
“Anna? Are you alright?”
Annabelle opened her mouth to speak, but instead of words, drastic coughs betrayed her. She coughed into the item in her hand. As she pulled it away, Jane recognized it as a white tissue spotted with blood.
“Anna?”
“Come here, Janie.” Her voice was quiet. Strained.
Jane sat on the bed gently, as not to disturb Annabelle’s comfort.
“I’m, sorry, I wasn’t expecting for this to happen so quickly,” Annabelle said. “I’ve used too much energy. I had to see you. I love you,” she coughed again.
Jane spoke in a stern voice. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Oh, Janie,” her eyes filled with moisture. “I’m dying.”
Chapter 12
Jane’s eyes opened, and immediately she was sitting up, gasping for air. She heard Elias shift, but she looked the other way, resisting him. He placed his warm hand on her back.
“Hey.”
Jane finally looked at him. She regretted it as she took in his shocked reaction. She forgot to wipe her tears.
“I’m okay,” she assured him. “It’s just beds. They creep me out.”
His thumb grazed her cheek, wiping the moisture away. “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. She couldn’t let him take the blame. It wasn’t his fault. It was hers. She was weak. He was grieving for his brother, and she couldn’t even be strong for him because she was practically hyperventilating at the sight of his bed.
He took her face in his hands and he kissed her. More tears swam out of her eyes. She didn’t want him to break the kiss, but he did anyway.
“Was she sick?” he asked quietly.
“No.” She wasn’t in denial. Annabelle wasn’t sick. Annabelle couldn’t get sick. None of them could.
“How did she die?”
Her voice cracked. “I have no idea.”
Disturbed, his eyes twitched. He entwined his fingers into her hair, and brought her head to his chest. She lost it. She cried uncontrollably, really balling, her wet tears soaking his skin. Elias held her long after she stopped, stroking her hair, gently coaxing the grief from her body with his fingertips. She lifted her head and kissed him.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
Jane blinked her eyes. Surprisingly, she was okay. “Yeah. Thank you. I can—breathe.”
He kissed her cheek. “Will you watch a movie with me?”
She smiled, got up and put Elias’s t-shirt back on. A noise escaped from him, a deep, roaring complaint. He led her to the living room, popped in a movie. He sat on the other side of the couch, positioning her feet in his lap.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You’ll see,” he answered simply.
The opening scene displayed on the LCD screen. There was a young girl with dark hair. She stood in the desert, holding a small cactus in one hand and a garden trowel in the other.
Jane gasped as the girl’s voice sprouted through the speakers. She glanced at Elias thankfully, but quickly looked back at the TV, not wanting to miss anything. It was an adaptation of her favorite book. She watched the be
ginning of it, her eyes wide, following every detail closely. The scene changed to a school cafeteria, and her unintentional moan filled Elias’s living room as the view zoomed in on the sexy, tall, brown-haired vampire that she was aching to see since the movie had started. Elias’s hysterical laugh startled her. She glanced at him again.
“Sorry, he’s just so—”
“Edward,” he said.
She smiled, returned her eyes to the screen. She watched the rest of it, absorbing every detail. The credits traveled up the screen, and Elias got up. He pulled on her arms, forcing her to stand. He gripped her side, pressed in her breasts with his massive body. Her limbs turned pliable. Edward who?
“Breakfast?” he asked.
Not for the breakfast, she moaned.
While Elias started on eggs, bacon, and potatoes, Jane propped herself on the kitchen counter. He turned from the stove and stared at her. She felt a little self conscious, imagining her hair had lost all its beauty. Probably wild again.
One stride, and he was standing between her legs. He pulled her to the edge of the counter and kissed her. A scolding fire ignited inside of her. She kissed him passionately, starving for the taste of him. She pressed herself against him. He may have made a noise, but she couldn’t be sure. The blaze distracted her, hot flames, bright red, oh! Her hormones jumped, his stiffness against her. Oh, she wanted him, wanted him more fiercely than she could ever imagine wanting anything…
The phone rang. Ugh. Again. And again. She reluctantly released him. “Do you need to get that?”
He growled. “It could only be one person.” He walked to the far kitchen wall and pressed the speaker button, never taking his eyes off her.
“Hi, Elias.”
The voice was familiar. Too familiar. Oh, no. How did he know her?
“Auntie.”
Jane nearly fell off the counter. Her eyes saw Elias as a kid, Elias with a paintbrush, Elias with his twin brother. She had seen the pictures, remembered how she fell in love with his smile through the glass of the picture frames. Jeanine talked constantly about her nephews. How could she just simply forget?
