Her eyes filled with tears. “We are. I love you.”
My mouth fell open.
Yup. Total cling-on.
A red warning sign began blinking in my mind’s eye.
Cole seemed as stunned as I felt. “Jessica . . .”
The urge to rescue him overtook me. “Cole,” I called out. “Simon needs you in the back.”
His startled gaze flew to mine, relief in them. “Right, of course.” He turned to Jessica. “Look, this is a really bad time. I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression, but we’re just not . . . going to happen.”
When she continued to stare at him incredulously, I found myself slinking out from behind the desk and hurrying over to the front entrance. The bells tinkled as I yanked it open, drawing Jessica’s attention.
She caught my look, and her jaw hardened at the silent point I was making. With an overdone sniffle she hurried out of the studio, clutching her bag to her chest as though we’d just killed her puppy and refused to apologize.
I shut the door behind her and mouthed, Wow, at Cole before heading back behind my desk.
Cole cautiously approached me, his expression filled with suspicion. I returned his stare with an innocent one of my own.
“Thank you,” he said with not a tiny amount of wariness.
“You’re welcome,” I said, my tone kind.
He blinked rapidly and it was clear his suspicion had only increased.
Cole stared at me for a few seconds longer, but I managed to maintain perfect politeness.
Backing away slowly, Cole held my stare, silently questioning me with every step he took. He turned around, but then just before he stepped into the hallway he looked back at me, confused.
I gave him nothing and he disappeared into the hall. I broke out into a massive, amused grin, a grin I quickly hid when Cole’s head popped back around the door. The hilarious sight of his seemingly floating head was made only more entertaining by the distrust in his narrowed eyes. Schooling my features into innocent politeness, I endured a short staring match with Cole’s head before he gave up.
His head disappeared and I began to shake with silent laughter.
* * *
“You’re freaking me out a little bit,” Cole said the next morning as he took the coffee I offered him.
Although I quite enjoyed the fact that I had him feeling off balance, I gave him the speech I’d prepared for the moment he called me out on my unusual behavior. “I’ve decided you’re right. I’m sick of acting like a brat. I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t know you. It was uncalled for and unprofessional of me.”
Cole didn’t even try to hide his surprise, and I liked that about him. I was beginning to realize that Cole was pretty transparent. He didn’t play games like most people. He wore his mood on his sleeve for everyone to see, and most of the time his thoughts were out there too. “Wow. Did not see that coming.”
I grimaced, feeling unsure all of a sudden. I’d been holding on to Hannah’s assessment of Cole’s character, using it to assure myself that we’d move on like nothing had ever happened. “Does that mean you accept my apology?”
He stared at me a second and I think he did it to make me squirm. It worked. He finished off, however, with a nod. “Of course. Thanks for the coffee.”
His response was mature; it was what I thought I wanted, but I walked out of his room weighed down with disappointment. He’d accepted my apology with all the warmth of a wet bath towel.
Muttering under my breath, I berated myself. I did have only myself to blame if Cole wasn’t really feeling all that friendly toward the woman who completely annihilated his character without an ounce of proof to back up said annihilation.
“Making nice with the boss?”
I let out a startled squeak and spun around to find Rae mere inches from me. “Jesus!”
Rae laughed and pushed me gently down the hallway and into the main studio away from Cole’s ears.
“I take it you were listening?” I glowered at her as I headed toward my desk.
“Of course.”
“You are a nosy pain in the arse.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a horrible flatmate. Now fucking spill.”
I lowered my voice. “Hannah informed me that I had the wrong impression about Cole. She told me he isn’t a player or a bad boy after all.”
“Took you long enough.”
“You could have told me.”
“And where is the fun in that, pray tell?”
I was not amused. “You know, there are times when you’re a bitch and then other times when you are a bitch.”
Rae sighed in exasperation. “Look, you need to learn how not to bring your past into your present. It’s a lesson I had to learn on my own, and having someone baby you through that isn’t going to teach you what you really need to discover for yourself. If you fuck this up—whatever this is with Cole—you’ll learn never to do it again. But I’m hoping there is a better lesson here.”
“And what’s that?”
“Someone tried to take something from you. You didn’t let them. Why start now? Especially when it comes to the things you want, and the things you need.” She smacked her hand down on the counter with an abruptness that startled me. “Enough of this Miyagi crap. Point is, fight for what you want, and while you’re doing that I’d like an egg mayo sandwich without that fucking cress shit on it this time.”
I tried to keep up with the change in subject. “It’s three hours until your lunch break.”
“I’m hungry now and I’ve got a client in fifteen.”
“I get lunch for everyone at the same time. I’m not a gofer. I’m a receptionist.”
She eyed me carefully. “Sometimes your tiny height is deceiving.” And on that weird comment, Rae strode outside. I assumed in search of a sandwich.
CHAPTER 9
I n high school I took art class every year, and a lot of still-life drawing is involved in the Scottish curriculum. Luckily for me I liked those classes, yet there were moments when I’d be sketching a flower or flowers stuck inside a skull, or a stuffed animal, or even a person in life drawing class, when I’d step back from my work and to my disappointment I’d see that it wasn’t quite right. There was something lacking, something that was stopping it from being brought to life.
If it was a sketch of a person, my problem was usually in the hands. Hands were so difficult to draw and it took me forever to get them right. There were times I just couldn’t manage it, and every time I stepped back from the sketch it fell short because of the bloody hands.
That was a little how I felt about my interaction with Cole.
Things were definitely better between us, but it was just sort of friendly on his part. For some reason his attitude completely threw me off balance. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, which I knew was ridiculous because it wasn’t as though I wanted to be in a relationship with him. I didn’t want to be in a relationship with anyone. My life here had just started and I didn’t need another man screwing up this new start.
That didn’t mean I could switch off whatever I was feeling about Cole. I went for drinks with him, Rae, the twins, Karen, Simon, and Tony and it was a really good laugh. Part of me sat there grateful that in just a few short weeks Rae had helped me build a life, with good friends and good times that helped me ignore the bloody awfulness of what I’d left behind in Glasgow. However, there was this other part of me that would glimpse Cole out of the corner of my eye, stealing glances whenever I could, and I’d feel this disappointment in my gut that all the joking and closeness he shared with the others he didn’t try to share with me.
The only thing that could take my mind off my complicated feelings was my newfound love for painting. Somehow I’d managed to keep my artwork a secret from Rae by either working outside the flat or waiting until she was occupied elsewhere. I was already working on my second landscape after having completed the one of Edinburgh at night. I knew it was probably far from the quality of prof
essional artists, but I actually loved it. After experimenting I found I was most comfortable with broad brushstrokes and a minimal approach. I loved how this gave the cityscape energy and movement. I was hooked. I couldn’t wait for my holidays off work. I was planning on booking a last-minute budget break somewhere like Italy or Budapest or Prague—somewhere exciting where I could set myself up on a riverbank, or a café, anywhere I could just relax and draw and forget about every single thing that worried me, including Cole Walker.
* * *
A week had passed since I started being nice to Cole. It felt longer. Much, much longer. I frowned over at him while we worked. He was standing in the gallery area, showing tattoo concepts to a prospective customer, as well as going over his video portfolio for the guy. Cole was completely lost in conversation about his art and I was becoming increasingly transfixed by the animation in his face and the way his eyes were lit up. His passion for his work took Cole from a ten to an eleven, and eleven had, heretofore, never seen the light of day in my hot-guy ranking system.
As if he felt my stare, Cole suddenly looked over at me while he continued to talk and I casually smiled at him and looked in the opposite direction like I hadn’t just been caught ogling my boss.
Looking out the window, the blood beneath my cheeks hot, I wondered if he was still staring at me. I fidgeted, trying to maintain my cool.
I was just about to lower my gaze to my work in the hopes of making out like I’d just needed a break from staring at paper, when the sight of a familiar blonde out on the pavement caused me to freeze.
Jessica.
She was staring up at our signage, chewing her lip.
Oh, heck no.
I knew from Rae that Jessica hadn’t let up on Cole. She’d turned up at his flat last Thursday, and while I was with him on Friday night at the bar she had texted him a dozen or so times. Even if Rae hadn’t told me, I could see for myself that Jessica’s behavior was really starting to stress Cole out.
I’d heard of girls like her, girls who just couldn’t take no for an answer, but I’d never met one in real life. She was beginning to piss me off. Cole had had to deal with my craziness when I first arrived here only for Jessica to jump on the crazy train when I jumped off.
Well, I thought determinedly, I can make up for my craziness by getting rid of Jessica once and for all.
Utilizing my often-underused, rapid-fire typing skills, I logged on to the Internet and looked up the info I thought might be useful in taking her down. Once I had it I glanced up to see the crazy girl had decided she was coming into the studio.
I immediately hopped off my chair and hurried across the studio to Cole, hearing the bells over the door jingle just as I reached him. I practically elbowed his customer out of the way and hissed, “Everything I do next, just go with it.”
His eyebrows had just begun to rise in surprise when I lunged at him, causing his whole face to slacken with shock. On tiptoes, and having to crush my chest against him to reach him, I wrapped my arms around his neck and yanked his head down. My mouth hit his and for a few seconds he tensed in my grasp.
I pressed my lips harder against his, my legs trembling as I had to stay on tiptoe to reach his mouth.
Just like that, Cole relaxed into me, his hands coming to a gentle rest on my hips, his mouth now moving against mine.
Oh boy.
He had good lips.
Good, good lips.
And he smelled wonderful.
I had no idea a kiss without tongue could still curl your toes.
Um . . . Shannon . . .
Forcing myself to remember why I was doing this, I pulled back from him and stumbled a little as I dropped my arms and returned my feet flat to the floor.
Cole’s fingers pressed into my hips as he steadied me. “What—”
“Jessica,” I whispered. “Smile, like we’re together.”
“Excuse me,” the bewildered customer said in annoyance behind me, but he was cut off by a screeched “What the hell is going on?”
I turned around and Cole’s hands dropped from my hips. Jessica was standing by the reception desk, eyes round with horror.
“Jessica,” Cole began impatiently, but I cut him off.
“Stop stalking my boyfriend,” I said with as much menace as I could muster. I didn’t really do menacing, but I think I pulled off angry redhead well enough.
Cole grew still at my back.
Jessica, however, gasped, her hurt gaze flying to him. “Boyfriend? But . . .”
I’d so lost my patience with her crap. “How many times do you have to be told that it’s over?” I took a few steps toward her, but she didn’t back away from me like I’d hoped. “Or is this your game? You think you can bug the crap out of a guy until he gives in just to get you to stop? Well, not my guy.”
She made a huff of disbelief. “I don’t—”
“I’m not finished,” I snapped.
Her mouth clamped shut and that hurt puppy dog look was back.
My expression turned mean with calculation. “I take it you’re counting on graduating from Edinburgh College of Art?”
Confused, she nodded.
“I happen to be Professor Kris Lowery’s goddaughter. You’ll have heard of Kris, right, seeing as she’s the principal of the college?”
Jessica’s whole demeanor changed. Now she took a wary step backward.
“See, I don’t know if you’re stupid, selfish, or crazy, but I do know that harassment is beyond stressful, horrible, and downright criminal. I also know for a fact that Kris will not be happy to hear that one of her students has a report filed against her with the police for harassment. In fact, I’m thinking Kris will not like that at all.”
Jessica’s anxious gaze drifted over my head to Cole and then back to me.
I sighed, pouring every ounce of pissed-off impatience into the effect. “That look in your eyes tells me at least you’re not stupid. Just selfish, then.”
“I really like him.” She shrugged pathetically.
“Well, he’s a little preoccupied liking me, so from now on don’t call, don’t write, don’t turn up at his home, his work, or try to contact him in any way, because I’m a jealous girlfriend with a very doting godmother who will do just about anything for me. Understood?”
Flushing, Jessica nodded quickly.
“That’s your cue to leave.”
It was almost tragically comical how fast she flew out of the studio, slipping on the marble floor tiles. She had to grab on to the door to right herself, before yanking it open and fleeing the building. If she hadn’t put Cole through the ringer these last few weeks, I would almost have felt sorry for her.
I turned to face my boss and laughed at the twin looks of shock on his and his customer’s faces. “You’re welcome.”
“Is it always like this in here?” the customer said to Cole.
Eyes still on me Cole nodded. “Lately it feels like it.”
* * *
The customer left fifteen minutes later (after having booked an appointment, so we couldn’t have scared him too badly), and Cole waited until the door closed behind him before turning the full force of his inquisitive green gaze on me. “Thank you, Shannon.”
There was a question in there somewhere, but there was also warmth that pleased me beyond measure. “You’re very welcome.”
“Professor Kris Lowery? You knew that how?”
“I looked her up. Good bluff, though, eh?”
“Fantastic,” he agreed. “But why?”
“Her constant harassment was stressing you out. I felt bad for you.”
Cole leaned on the counter, creating a deeper intimacy in our proximity and thus our conversation. “About that kiss . . .”
Not wanting him to think I was expecting anything, I hurried to reassure him. “I was just trying to help you out. I don’t have a lot of friends here, Cole, and apparently you’re a good one to have. I was trying to help out a potential friend.”
His
smile was kind, but there was something troubled in his eyes. “I can be your friend, Shannon. I know when you first came here I was too forward with you, with the flirting and what have you, but that was then. It won’t happen again.”
“It won’t?” I blurted out before I could control myself.
“I find you attractive,” he said carefully. “I think we both know that, but you and me . . . we’re different. We’re better as friends.”
I knew I should accept his words and move on, but I was feeling a little put out. “Different?”
“We didn’t get off to the best start because of that difference . . .”
It dawned on me what he was talking about. “Me being overly judgmental.” I deflated when I saw on his face that I’d grasped what he was trying to say.
Cole grimaced. “I don’t operate like that, and being in a relationship with someone who does would drive me nuts, and as gorgeous as you are, I don’t do casual. So friends it is.”
To my horror and surprise I felt more than a little winded by his declaration. I wanted to tell him that he’d gotten me wrong, that I had a reason for the way I treated him and that I wasn’t usually like that. However, the words got stuck in my throat when my pride kicked in.
I was not going to beg for his attention like Jessica had done.
Instead I gave him a nod of agreement. “Sure. Friends.”
“Great.” He gave me that boyish grin again, and it made my stomach twist with lust and regret. “In fact, we have the same days off, so we should do something sometime.”
“Sure,” I repeated, not actually sure I meant it at all. Did I really want to spend time with Cole outside of work when he didn’t know who I really was?
“You know I’ve wanted to go to the new prizewinner exhibit at the modern art gallery. They’ve put the winner and runners-up from the college of art graduates for the John Watson prize on display. Do you fancy coming along to it on Friday?”
I knew if I said no, if I shut him down once more, that would probably be the last time he’d make a friendly overture. So, attempting to hide my reluctance, I smiled. “Sounds good.”
Echoes of Scotland Street Page 10
