“I agree in that your apartment doesn’t offer the best security,” Isla says.
I tense. “Are you saying that I should move in with him?”
“I’m saying that you should be realistic about who you’re dating. He’s not Jack the firefighter. He’s Kyle, one of the biggest movie stars.”
“Grrrrrrr … you’re no help.”
She laughs. “I can’t tell you what to do, but you shouldn’t give in to it if you don’t want to. Life is too short to force yourself to do stuff that doesn’t make you happy.”
We wind up the conversation, and I don’t feel any closer to making a decision. I put on my smock and head to the studio, grateful for the sanctuary that my little hobby provides.
Except now, it’s not a hobby. I’m going to have my own solo show. Everything is already set up, and I dive into work. As it happens when I’m into a project, I lose track of time and place, and nothing else matters except for the story I’m creating on the canvas.
I don’t know how much time has passed when I hear the doorbell ring. I jump from my chair and hurry to the door. My heart dances when I see Kyle.
“How did you come up without me buzzing you in?”
“There was a girl from downstairs leaving the building. She buzzed me in,” Kyle says.
I see what he means about security being lax in my building. Kyle kisses me and then looks at the front of my smock.
“Have you been working since I left?” he says.
“Yes,” I say sheepishly.
“You make me feel like a slacker.”
“Don’t. I’m not usually like this, but I’m feeling particularly inspired.”
“I can’t wait to see the finished products unless you want to give me a peek now. You know, the kind reserved for special people in your life,” Kyle says.
I laughed. “Not going to happen.”
“I’ll be patient then,” Kyle says. “I’m taking you on a picnic.”
My heart soars. “Okay. I’ll just change into something decent.”
I change into a pair of jeans and then follow Kyle out of the building.
“Where’s Ethan?” I ask him when we go to his regular parking at the back of the building.
“He’s off. I’m your driver today,” Kyle says, walking to a silver Porsche I hadn’t noticed.
“Nice.” I slip into the passenger seat. The inside is luxurious with black leather seats, wood trim, and a dashboard that looks like it should be in a small airplane.
We drive out of the city, and I sink further back into the comfortable seat as my busy day catches up with me. I let out a yawn, and my eyes threaten to close.
That’s when I realize that we in some kind of park. “We’re going hiking?”
Kyle laughs. “You’re so cute when you’re tired, and the answer is no. Just a picnic with a view.”
We drive uphill for ten minutes or so. Kyle drives off the road and follows a dirt road until we come to the end of it. He stops the car and comes around to open my door. Only then do I realize we are on top of a mountain, and the view is absolutely lovely. Below us are the tops of trees that resemble hundreds of gigantic umbrellas. Kyle opens the back passenger door and removes a picnic basket. The sight of it reminds me that I haven’t eaten.
“Still tired?” he asks me as he locks the car.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He grins and takes my hand. “I know this quiet place.”
I chuckle. “How do you know these places?”
“You have to know them if you want to be out and still have some privacy.”
We follow a path framed by towering trees until we come to an open space with wild grass growing tall and swaying in the wind. A sweet, honeyed scent wafts up my nostrils, and a soothing noise fills the air.
“What is that?” I ask Kyle, stopping in my tracks.
“You’ll see,” he says mysteriously. “You’re safe; don’t worry.”
He tugs my hand, and we continue walking. We go through the meadow and to another path. Then all of a sudden, as if a curtain has been drawn open, there lies a magnificent, huge waterfall.
Streaks of gold sparkle in the water as it tumbles down the rocks that jut out from the waterfall. “Oh, this place is beautiful.”
“I knew you’d like it,” Kyle says.
“Thank you for bringing me.” I’m surrounded by so much beauty that it makes me emotional.
Chapter 20
Kyle
I’m caught in the sweet place between sleep and wakefulness. My hand is resting on Grace’s hip, and her body is nestled against mine. A noise blares, and I sit up with a start before I realize that it’s a phone.
Grace sleepily reaches for it. “Hello. Who? Okay, hang on.” She covers the phone’s mouthpiece. “It’s for you. He says he’s your agent, Sebastian.”
I take the phone puzzled as to why Sebastian would be calling me on a Monday morning. “Morning,” I growl into the phone, thoroughly irritated at being woken up.