“Yes, I know he’s hot.” She waves her hands around. “Yes, I know the kiss was amazing.”
Amazing, hey? Good to know. I thought it was incredible too. “But I’m not interested, Rosie.” Oh, that was a shot I probably didn’t need to my ego. “I need this job, you know that.”
That’s right, the dickhead ex who thought she wasn’t good enough to date, what a fucking fool he turned out to be. Emily is amazing. How could you not want a ray of sunshine like her in your life?
Good question, Louis? You haven’t exactly been appreciative of her sunny disposition since she started months ago. No, but today is a fresh start, we shook on it.
“Rosie, I have a job to do, and that does not include doing Louis Marchant.”
Well, it could if she wanted to.
No. She’s right. I’m her boss.
“Yes, he messaged me. Can you believe that?” Who’s she talking about now? Who messaged her? “All because he saw the picture of Louis and me.”
Oh, she must mean her ex. What an idiot. I bet he realizes what he’s missing now. I knew he’d be watching her waiting to see what she does with her life. That little prick thinks he can fuck around on her, and then once he’s finished playing the field, he can come back to her. You’re too late, someone is going to come along and swipe her off her feet. That asshole should have appreciated her sooner.
“Of course, I ignored it,” she says, then there’s a small pause, and she continues, “I know. I’m proud of myself, too.”
I can hear the pride in her voice at how she’s handled the situation with her ex—good on her.
“I miss you guys, too.” I hear the sadness in her voice coming through. “Say hi to Ava and Georgia, too. When I get back, we’re going to go crazy. I better go, I’m shattered.”
Whatever her friend says next makes her laugh, and I like hearing it. I need to remind myself to make her laugh more. She says her goodbyes and holds her cell in her hand. Emily looks out across the dark horizon.
Can she see me here? I hope not. I’ll look like a creep if she does.
Emily lets out a heavy sigh and goes back inside, locking her door, and the light switches off moments later. I can now move from my spot and head back to the house. The day has been fun, and I look forward to more with Emily.
After a quick shower, I fall into bed, and it doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep. I’m exhausted and not because I’ve been partying or because I’ve had way too much tequila, I’m physically exhausted from riding a bike around the countryside.
A girl with golden spun hair runs through lavender fields, laughing, looking carefree. I catch her hand, spinning her around before she falls into my arms. Emerald green eyes, rose pink lips, that are ready for me, begging me, calling me to kiss her. I oblige. They taste like sunshine, and the scent of roses tickles my nose.
I wake with a start, my mind full of color, images, my hand itching to get the images onto canvas. I jump out of bed and rush toward my studio before my inspiration fades.
19
Emily
“Morning, Gabriel.” I make my way into the kitchen with my legs aching. They feel like jelly after yesterday’s ride, and believe it or not, my butt actually hurts. I think I need one of those hemorrhoid donuts to help me sit on. I don’t think I have ever in my life worked out that much. I should probably start because I’m walking around like an eighty-year-old woman right now, and that tells me more about my physical conditioning than it does about my age.
“Morning.” He smiles, handing over a croissant and freshly squeezed juice.
“Is he up?” I ask about our boss.
Gabriel nods. “He’s been in the studio all morning.” My eyes widen, and Gabriel smiles wider. “I think yesterday has inspired him.” Really? “He’s probably hungry,” he tells me, handing me a croissant wrapped in a napkin. “Go… take it to him.”
“Um…”
“I have his coffee as well.” I shake my head. “I have a lid for it.” Gabriel hands over the secure travel mug.
I guess I’m going to have to take it to Louis. Gabriel practically pushes me out of the kitchen.
I wonder what Louis is doing down there?
I hope he’s not drinking again. Yesterday was great seeing him so carefree, it suited him, but I’d be naïve to think one day in the sunshine will change him.
Slowly walking down to the studio, I’m enjoying the morning sun. When I arrive, I see a pile of rubbish to one side of the studio filled with destroyed canvases, paint tins, and other random objects.
Everything is quiet, which is unusual. He always has his music playing loudly when he’s working or should I say drinking. I lightly rap my knuckles against the wooden door, but there’s no answer. Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and walk through.
My eyes trace over the empty studio where the destruction from the other night has vanished, and now it’s practically empty. Blank canvases stand to one side, there’s neat paint pots sitting on a table. Hanging in the middle of the room is the canvas of the yellow lips I saw the other day. But there’s another painting drawing my attention—it’s black, but there are silver specks in the middle, which appear like light shooting out from them. Then beside that is another unfinished work—a black sky that hangs over a lavender and yellow backdrop.
They are simply beautiful.
I place the croissant on the side table and move closer to examine the paintings in front of me. I’m lost, far away in thought admiring these new works that I jump when I hear his voice. Turning around, I see a disheveled Louis walk
