Jasmine Thompson—Pompeii
Nickelback—How You Remind Me
Parachute—The Mess I Made
I stand on the front porch with Clay and Izzie by my side, waiting for Edward to turn up. Lifting my arm, I look down at my watch and see that he’s now ten minutes late. It’s so unlike him, he’s never been late in the thirty years that I’ve known him. He’s a stickler for timekeeping and prides himself on always being able to get you where you need to be right on time. If I’m honest, I’m starting to worry about him.
I look down at Clay and Izzie, giving them a reassuring smile before reaching into my pocket and pulling my cell out, about to call him when the sound of car tires crunching gravel catches my attention. I look up as the car comes to a stop in front of the fountain in the driveway.
Edward jumps out and apologizes profusely. I scan him, my eyes narrowed as I take in his appearance: his shirt is half untucked, his tie isn’t knotted properly, and the laces on his black shoes are undone.
I’ve never seen him this… frazzled and unruly.
He looks like he woke up late and dressed on his way here. What I can’t understand is why it’s taken him so long, he only lives a couple of minutes away.
I shake my head, deciding not to say anything, yet. I don’t want to acknowledge it in front of the kids, deciding to wait until we’ve dropped them off at school.
Although Izzie’s giggle and voice telling him, “Daddy helps me get dressed, maybe you need Daddy to help you too?” all with a completely serious look on her face, has us all bursting out into laughter, breaking the tension rolling off of him.
Once we’re all in the car and on our way to their school, his eyes flick to me and back to the road continuously all the way.
I get out with the kids when we pull up to the school entrance, making sure they get inside safely before I make my way back to the car and a nervous Edward.
I let out a long breath when I slide into the back, not wanting to reprimand him. Edward is like family, I hate to call him an employee because he’s so much more than that—he always has been.
“I’m so sorry I made them late,” he gasps. “I overslept and then I had to get all the way from the other side of the city and—”
“Wait.” My head reels back as I hold my hand up to stop his rambling as I frown. “Why were you all the way over the other side of the city?”
His face goes beet red and he can’t quite look at me as he pulls away from the school, starting to drive us into the city. “I… I…”
“Edward,” I warn, my patience starting to wear thin. “Spit it the hell out.”
He clears his throat and stops at a red light, his hands gripping onto the steering wheel tighter as he stumbles on his words, finally coming out with, “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”
My brows draw down as I narrow my eyes even further at him. Then it clicks, the way he’s been acting around her; staying all the way over in the city.
Dammit. I knew something was going to happen between them. Ever since that night at Mom’s for dinner, I could feel it in the air, I could see it happening right in front of my eyes.
I know that they’ve known each other for more years than I’ve been alive, but never did I think that they’d be… doing whatever the hell they’ve been doing.
Great—now I have those images in my head. Images that I do not want there.
“You and Mom, huh?” I ask, knowing that I’m spot on when he turns away and doesn’t answer.
I really don’t know how to feel about this; on the one hand Edward has been like a father to me all of my life, but on the other hand, it’s going to get weird, him being my driver and my mother's… boyfriend.
“I know that you’re my boss,” he starts, pulling up to the sidewalk outside my office building that he’s made it to in record-breaking time. “But if you’re not comfortable with it…”
He leaves that hanging in the air and I look him dead in the eyes, trying to decipher how he really feels. I can see something there that I could see years ago... happiness. Something that hasn’t been there for a very long time, and when I think back, the only time that he had that look was when he was talking to Mom or taking her somewhere.
Had I missed it all these years? Had something been going on all this time?
“How long?” My voice comes out gruff as I start to see them both in a very different light.
“Huh?”
“How long, Edward?” I lean forward, narrowing my eyes at him, silently warning him not to lie to me.
He pushes his pointer finger in between his neck and his collar, pulling at it and visibly swallowing. “A couple of weeks.”
My brows rise on my forehead at his admission. “That’s it? Not when I was a kid?”
“What?” He practically shouts. “I’m a professional, Tristan, you know this. I would never have done anything with your mother while she was still married to your father. I wouldn’t have done that to you or her, no matter how much I loved her.”
His admission has me speechless and I don’t know what to say so I lean back in my seat, staring out of the window and up at the office building where I know someone is waiting for me to have a meeting. “You’ve loved her all this time?” I ask quietly.
“I…” He lets out a breath, his body deflating. “Yeah.”
I nod slowly, trying to take it all in and then turn to face him, putting my hand on the door handle and pulling at it to open the door. “You hurt her,” I warn. “And I’ll hurt you; are we clear?”
“Crystal.”
I nod once and step out of the car, doing my jacket button up and rolling my shoulders back. Time to run my business and get those goddamn images out of my head.
“So, everything is done?”
“Preliminarily? Yes. Legally? Not yet, but it shouldn’t be too much longer until you’re a free woman,” Nate says. “He agreed to everything, you’ll get your half of the savings, like agreed. He also has specifically stated he wants nothing to do with your studio so your worries are unfounded there, he has no intention of trying to get half of your profits.”
A sigh of relief releases from between my lips and I lean back in the leather chair with a smile on my face. The divorce is nearly over. “You don’t know how much of a relief this is, my studio is all I have.”
He nods and clears his throat. “It’s been a straightforward process, I almost feel bad for taking your money.” He winks at me and I laugh.
“Not too bad though, huh?” He chuckles and stands as I do, that same look on his face like he wants to say something. I huff, “What?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing, I’ll walk you out.”
“Thanks, I hope I can make it back in time for my first session of the day. Traffic was a nightmare getting into the city this morning.”
“Well, we won’t need to see each other after today. You’ll receive the divorce certificate through the mail when it’s nulled and you’ll officially be a Jameson again.”
I stop before the front door to the law firm and turn toward him. “Seriously, Nathan, thank you so much for this and for fitting me in on a Saturday.”
“It’s my job,” he replies, shrugging.
“I know that, but I also know that you tried to speed things up and fit me in because of who I am.”
When he doesn’t answer right away, I narrow my eyes at him and he chuckles. “I… Alright, you caught me. I had to do whatever I could, for old times’ sake. It’s been nice to see you again, and you look a lot happier now.”
“I think I am.” I smile at my statement; I think I finally am.
“That’s great to hear.” He pauses for a second. “I need to get to a meeting, but if you ever need anything, you let me know.” I tense as he gives me a quick hug and clears his throat.
“Thanks, you too. Take care, Nate.”
He returns the sentiment and turns on his heels, leaving me to walk out of the building and to my car.
When I get to the studio, Mom’s already here, setting up for the session. I can’t help but grin at the questioning look on her face. She beams back at me, knowing what I’m saying without having to speak and pulls me in for a hug.
“So, that’s it?” she asks as we wait for the kids to start arriving.
“Pretty much, I need my certificate for it to be official, but it’s finally nearing the end.”
She claps her hands excitedly and I raise my brow in a sarcastic expression. “Oh, stop. I’m excited for you to be moving on, that’s all. Anyway, enough of that talk, we have lots to do.” She motions to all of the paintings and sculptures on the tables. “What’s happening with all of this?”
“I know a few have some final details to add to their big pieces, so we’ll find out who they are and I can stay with them if you don’t mind taking the rest and getting them to hang up their artwork in the back?”
“Sure, do you want to show me how you want it?”
We walk into the large back room and I place pedestals in the four corners. “If you can place two in the middle and two as you walk in, that’ll be perfect for the sculptures. And…” I spin around in a circle, pointing at the far wall. “If we have the big pieces here, I’ll Velcro the curtain up later, ready for the big reveal. Leave the placement of the other paintings up to the kids, it’s their artwork after all.”
She nods and I grin at her, starting to feel the flutter of excitement coursing through me. Today is going to be a good day.
The bell dings in the front and we walk through, welcoming the excited chatter of the kids we’ve been teaching every Saturday morning for the last six weeks, it may not feel long to some, but to me, watching them pour out their imagination and emotions makes me feel like I’ve known them for so much longer.
“Miss J!” Izzie cries as she bounds through the doors.
“Hey, sweetie, you ready to finish your painting for gallery night?”
“Mmhmm,” she mumbles, already walking over to it. Clay joins her and I watch as he helps her up onto the high stool while he stands, handing her a paintbrush.
I turn toward the other kids. “Right, everyone that has finished their pieces, go with Tilly. The ones who still need to do some work on theirs, you’re with me.”
Most shuffle off toward the back of the room with excited chatter, but three stay behind, already pulling out their pieces and getting to work on them.
“Finished!” Izzie calls from across the room as I help a student wash up their paintbrushes.
“Awesome, call Tilly through and she’ll help you guys get it on the drying rack outside since it’s a nice day today. It’ll dry quicker out there so we can get it up on the wall before tonight.”
Izzie skips through to the back but I notice Clayton staring down at the painting in front of him, a frown marring his face, so I walk over there.
“Hey, buddy.” I look down at the sheet of paper with him. “I love it all, especially this guy here.”
“That’s Edward, he’s one of Izzie’s favorite people.”
I smile. “Awesome, and who’s this?” I ask, pointing to an older looking lady shown by the wrinkles on her forehead.
“That’s my nana, she’s coming tonight. And that’s Amelia, she looks after us sometimes,” he says, pointing to the painting of a small woman with blonde hair and brown eyes.
“And this is your dad?” I move my finger over to the painting of a man in a suit. He nods and smiles at me. “And is he coming tonight?”
“Yeah,” he answers me, frowning.
I slide onto the stool that Izzie was sitting on so I’m eye level with him. “What’s wrong? Are you not excited about showing your family your sculptures? They’re really good, Clayton.”
“I... I am, I just...” He sighs. “I just wish that my mom could be here.”
Izzie bounces over with my mom and picks up a corner of the painting. “Do you like it, Miss J? Do you?”
“It’s very well painted, Izzie. Well done to you both,” I reply.
Mom gives me a questioning look and head tilt toward Clayton who has walked over to the beanbags; his head stuck in a book. I mouth, “Not now,” to her and she nods, helping Izzie carry her painting through to the back.
Walking over to Clayton, I’m halted in my tracks by three other students that run up to me, each wanting to pull me in a different direction to look at their pieces that have been set up. I desperately want to talk to him but decide he may need some space before I do, so I turn on my heels and walk toward the gallery set up in the back.
Before I know it, parents are arriving to pick up their kids and I’m left wondering if Clayton will be okay because I didn’t get to talk to him before he left. I have to put him out of my mind and get to work on everything else that needs to be done before tonight, otherwise it’ll never get finished.
Two hours later, Mom walks over to me, wiping her hands on a cloth. “That’s all the food prepped. Get on home, you need to go and get ready for your big night!”
“I just have to—”
“Get!” she says, pushing my purse into my hands and turning me toward the door. “I was prepared and brought my clothes here to change into, I’ll finish up.”
I chuckle. “Alright, thanks, Mom.”
She waves a hand in the air like she’s swatting a fly and I close the door behind me, walking out to my car and getting in. I drive back to Mom’s with the radio on, feeling good about tonight for the first time today.
I dress in a colorful poodle skirt and a crisp white shirt, tying my hair up into a high ponytail and putting on a coating of mascara, some lip balm and blush. I stare at myself in the mirror and for the first time in weeks, I like what I see. I smile wide and walk out of the bathroom with excitement for tonight.
The drive back to my studio goes by in a flash and I open the doors and walk into my office, placing my purse on my desk and hanging up my thin, red cardigan.
“Thought I heard someone come in,” Mom says, startling me.
I spin around, hand over my chest. “Gosh, you scared me!”
“Who else would it be?”
I shoo her out of my office so I can lock it up for the night. “Don’t sneak up on me, my nerves are already shot.” I walk into the back room and stop in my tracks. “Wow! It looks great in here,” I exclaim, admiring the colorful setup.
“You think? I added a few finishing touches after you left.”
I beam at her. “I can’t believe we’ve been open for six weeks.”
She smiles in response. “Me neither, it seems like you’ve been doing this your whole life.”
“Well, I did have practice,” I reply, chuckling and turning in time to see the first arrivals of the evening. I point toward them and she grabs my hand, giving it a light, supportive squeeze before we both walk forward.
“Daaaaaddy!”
I jump out of my chair at the sound of Izzie shouting, my gaze flitting all around the room as my brain tries to catch up to my body. My elbow smacks off the door frame as I rush out of my office and I curse under my breath, holding my arm as the cringing sensation shoots down my arm and through my hand.
Clay steps out of his room at the same time as I make it to Izzie’s door, pushing his glasses up his nose and squinting against the harsh sunlight that’s streaming through the hallway window.
“Izzie?” I gasp, pushing into her bedroom where she stands on her bed, hands on hips.
“We’re going to be late!”
“What?” I look down at the Rolex on my wrist. “Shit.” I must have lost track of the time while checking my emails.
Izzie gasps and Clay chuckles from behind me. “Daddy! You said a bad word!” she shouts.
“Erm… no I didn’t,” I say, trying to backtrack. “I… I erm... I said, shoot.”
“Uh uh, you said shit.”
“Izzie!”
She flutters her eyelashes, the long strands batting like the wings of a butterfly as she smiles innocently.
“Never mind,” I say, scrubbing my hands down my face. “Nana and Edward will be here in thirty minutes, let’s get moving.” I clap my hands together and walk back to my bedroom.
I jump into the shower quickly, washing my hair and body and then getting out, throwing on some dark blue jeans and a white t-shirt before putting some socks on and shoving my feet into my combat boots.
I grab my dark brown leather jacket out of my walk-in closet, pushing my arms through the sleeves before heading back to the kids’ rooms.
“Clay? Izzie?”
“One minute!” Clay shouts back.
I push open Izzie’s door, looking left and right but not seeing her. I step back when I hear an annoyed huff and smirk.
“Izzie?” I call again, heading to her closet where she stands inside, looking up at all of her dresses.
“I have nothing to wear!” She spins around, her brows forming a deep v on her forehead.
I step into the closet with her, pushing several dresses aside and picking out three.
“Here,” I say, stepping back and placing them on the bed. “Pick between these.”
She looks at the dresses on the bed, her face serious as she tries to pick the best one. “What do you think, Daddy?”
“I think you’d look pretty in all of them, pumpkin. But I love the green one.” I smile at her and I’m rewarded with the same smile that used to grace Natalia’s face. The sight of it has my breath catching in my throat. She would have loved to have seen their art show, witnessing what they’ve created.
I shake my head and walk out of her room, turning back when I get to the door. “Five minutes, Izzie. Amelia still has to do your hair, be quick.”
She doesn’t acknowledge me so I make my way down the stairs, the door flying open as I hit the last step.
“Grandbabies!” Mom shouts, making me wince as her voice echoes off the walls. “Are we all ready?”
“Dad’s making us late,” Clay says as he comes out of the kitchen. “He was working.”
Guilt floods me at the look on his face and the sound of his voice. I try my hardest not to work on weekends, but sometimes I have no choice.
Mom looks up at me, a smirk on her face as Edward comes in behind her, dressed in jeans and a shirt. It takes me a minute to adjust to what he’s wearing; I’m so used to seeing him in his suit that he always wears when driving us.
“Edward.” I nod and walk forward. “Mom.” I kiss her on the cheek before turning around and heading into the kitchen.
“Nana brought muffins,” she announces.
Izzie’s squeal comes before we see her and then she’s running down the stairs and toward Edward who holds a box in his hands.
“Did you get blueberry? They’re my favorite!”
“I sure did, munchkin,” Mom says, crouching down and wrapping her arms around her before pulling away and putting her arm around Clay’s shoulders, pulling him toward the kitchen.
I follow them and head for the coffee pot, switching it on and waiting for it to brew as Mom hands out the muffins.
“What time do we need to leave, Tristan?” she asks, coming to stand in front of me as I lift the pot and pour three cups.
“Ten minutes,” I reply once I’ve checked the time on my watch.
The door that leads from the kitchen to the backyard opens and Amelia asks, “Who’s excited?” a smile taking over her face.
“I am!” Izzie shouts.
“Hi, Charlotte,” Amelia says, stepping forward and giving her a hug. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” she replies, pulling back, her gaze tracking from Amelia’s feet up to her face. “You look beautiful.”
I roll my eyes, she would say that, she’s wearing one of her designs. The green colored dress hangs off one shoulder and flows down to below her knees.
Amelia’s face turns bright red as she clears her throat and turns to face me. “Can I get a ride with you and the kids?”
“Of course,” I answer, frowning at the dress she’s wearing. “You need to get a coat.” It’s meant to come out like a question but sounds more like a demand.
Amelia is like the little sister that I never had, and as such, I try to look out for her.
“No.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t.”
She doesn’t give me a chance to reply because she’s flitting off toward Izzie, admiring her dress and pulling her hair into a braid as she tells her that she looks pretty.
Mom smirks and takes the cup of coffee that I offer her and Edward’s, handing it to him before turning back around and leaning against the counter next to me; watching Clay and Izzie as they eat their muffins.
Izzie asks Edward if he likes her dress and he nods, telling her she looks just like a princess.
“Daddy said he liked this one the best, so I picked it.” She then gasps and looks at Amelia. “We’re matching!”
“Would you look at that, we are!” Amelia says, her voice rising an octave and I chuckle at their dramatics.
“Are we ready?” I ask several minutes later.
Mom walks over to Clay and Izzie, standing between them and hugging them both at the same time. “I can’t wait to see all of your artwork.”
Clay’s face is unsure, but Izzie is very obviously excited.
They jump down from their stool and walk out of the kitchen and I follow behind, all of us heading toward our cars.
Edward starts walking to the car he drives me around in and I call out to him, “Wrong car.”
I smirk as he looks up at me and chuckle as he shakes his head. “Sorry, force of habit.” He walks away with Mom’s laughter behind him as they walk to his car.
I go to strap Izzie in but Amelia has already beaten me to it so I slide into the driver’s seat before I start the engine, ready to see what they’ve been making at the art class for the last six weeks and excited that I finally get to meet the elusive Miss J.
I pull into the first space that I can find outside the studio, which took a while because the street is full of cars for the gallery night.
I slide out of the car before opening the back door for Izzie to get out. She steps onto the sidewalk and pats her dress back into place as Amelia opens the door for Clay, walking with him over to where we’re standing.
I hold my hand out for Izzie and she leads the way, pulling on my hand as we get closer to the studio.
I hear Mom’s intake of breath as she walks up behind us with Edward. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers, her eyes filling with wonder as her gaze flits around the building.
I know exactly what she’s feeling. It’s as magical now as it was the first day I pulled up to the beautiful studio.
“Come on, Daddy!” Izzie squeals, pulling me with more force than a girl her size should have.
We walk along the cobblestone path, stopping at the line that is forming at the door. Once we’re there and waiting, I look down at Clay, frowning at the worried look on his face.
My gaze catches Mom’s and I tilt my head down to Izzie, silently asking her to switch places with me. She flits her gaze down at Clay then back at me, smiling and switching places with me without a word said.
Once Izzie starts talking her ear off, I crouch down in front of Clay and place my pointer finger and thumb on his chin, capturing his gaze. His gray eyes hold so much sadness that it almost knocks me over.
Planting my feet firmly on the ground, I clear my throat. “What’s the matter, Clay?”
He’s silent for several seconds, his gaze moving from mine before coming back, his eyes misting over.
“I wish Mom was here to see this.”
My stomach dips and I’m stumped, not knowing what I should or shouldn’t say; yet again.
“Well…” I look up and catch Amelia’s gaze. She smiles sadly and crouches down beside me, taking Clay’s hands in hers.
“She’s watching over you, Clay. She sees everything you do,” she says softly.
My chest deflates and I mouth “thank you” to her.
“Really?” he asks, his gaze going back and forth between the both of ours.
“Really,” she answers, nodding and giving his hands a small squeeze.
He smiles sadly before looking up at the sky and then back at me. “I still wish that she was here.”
“I know,” I say, my voice breaking. “I do too, bud.”
I hold my arms out wide and Amelia lets go of his hands, standing up before I pull him into my chest and close my eyes. We stay like that for a moment; I think I need it just as much as he does.
“Want to see what I made?” he asks softly, pulling away slightly and looking behind me toward the studio.
My head whips around, noticing that everyone has gone inside. “Yeah, I do!” I grin wide and stand up, placing my arm around his shoulders and walking inside, thankful for the subject change.
He leads me around, showing me all of the different places. Telling me where everything normally is, but as it’s gallery night, most of it has been moved elsewhere to allow for all of the people that are attending.
There’s all kinds of people here: parents with their children, couples laughing and drinking wine, and an old man who is studying some paintings. He looks down at someone and my gaze follows his movement. My lips can’t help but quirk up at the corner as I see Izzie explaining something to him.
My thoughts drift back to Natalia the longer I’m in here. I know she’d have loved all of the art they made, she’d have hung it all up around the house. The thought makes me smile.
“I made a sculpture.” Clay’s excited face has me shaking the thoughts from my head as I follow him to the other side of the studio.
“Daddy!” Izzie joins us, barreling into my legs but I see her coming so I brace myself, lifting her up into my arms and tickling her, her giggles surrounding us.
I place her on the floor and we walk past a staircase; I can’t help but dip my head to see if I can see where it leads. There’s no rope there; nothing to say it’s off limits.
I tear my eyes away, stepping toward where Clay is standing, but my eyes wander back of their own accord to the stairs; something is pulling me to them and I can’t understand what.
Clay picks up his sculpture, turning around and holding it up, his face beaming with pride.
My eyes widen at the sight of it and I take it from his offered hand, twisting it this way and that as I study all of the small details he added.
“Is it a candleholder?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he whispers, his voice unsure.
“Wow!” Mom says as she comes up behind us, clapping her hands. “That’s so good, Clay! Did you do that all by yourself?”
“I did,” he answers.
I continue to turn it around and marveling at all of his sculpture work, along with the bright colors that he’s used.
“It’s really good,” I say, handing it back to him and crouching down. “I’m so proud of you.” His cheeks heat and he looks away, but I don’t move, not taking my eyes off his. He needs this, I need this. We all need to know that no matter what happens, we have each other.
“There’s my friend!” Izzie squeals, grabbing Edward and Amelia’s hands at the same time. “Come meet her.”
I shake my head and chuckle, watching as they walk away. “Do you really like it, Dad?”
“I love it,” I say, opening my arms and pulling him against me again for another hug.
When he pulls back he looks up at my mom. “Want me to show you around?”
“I sure do!” She plants a kiss on his cheek and takes his hand, turning to me and asking, “Are you coming?”
My gaze flits back over to the staircase and I hesitate. It’s still pulling at me like an invisible cord that I can’t fight against. I can’t understand why, but the need to see what is at the top of those stairs is overwhelming.
“I’ll catch up to you,” I tell her. She nods in reply and walks off with Clay.
My feet move closer to the stairs and I take a quick look around before standing on the first step, stopping and debating whether I should do this. What if it is off limits? I shouldn’t be going into someone’s personal space, what the hell am I doing?
I start to take a step back but at the last second, I change my mind and climb the stairs two at a time, my hand skimming along the wooden handrail.
Once I’m at the top, I stop and marvel at the space. Several paintings sit against the wall along with a bench that’s covered in tubes of paints and a jar that houses paintbrushes.
I step farther in, my eyes soaking up all of the art on display. It looks professional so I know that this must be Miss J’s personal studio.
My eyes land on an easel that’s covered with a sheet, only the corner of the painting showing. My curiosity gets the better of me—yet again—and I walk closer.
I push the stool that sits in front of it aside and reach my fingers out, grasping and pulling the sheet up.
My breath hitches as I reveal some of the painting and I can’t stop my movements as I whip the sheet off it fully, needing to know if it is what I think it is.
My gaze travels along the canvas, soaking up the scene depicted in paint. I know this place, hell, it’s one of two things in my life that haunts me. But it can’t be.
This can’t be the same tree that I left her standing under all those years ago, knowing that I wouldn’t get to talk to or see her beautiful face again.
My fingers reach forward, stroking a branch of the willow tree, my heart burning with something that I haven’t felt since that day. I haven’t allowed myself to feel like this, not for a long time, at least, not with anybody but Clay and Izzie.
“Excuse me, you can’t be up here.” I stumble back, falling into the stool and righting myself before I knock everything over.
That voice.
My heart beats hard in my chest, so loud that I’m sure everyone in the building can hear it. I turn around slowly, my head and heart at war with each other. If this is really happening, then I don’t know which one I want to win.
My eyes clash with hers and she gasps, her hand flying to her chest as her beautiful honey eyes widen.
“No, you...” She shakes her head, her hair swinging in the ponytail that she wears high on her head.
My hands start to shake because my body wants nothing more than to go to her, to hold her like I used to, but my head is running rampant with thoughts. Anger at seeing her starts to bubble over, spilling through my veins like toxic waste. “Harmony?”
“Tris—Tristan? What are you… Why?”
Her face is still the same as when I left: her eyes big and bright as her long lashes flutter against her cheeks as she blinks in shock. The colorful skirt she’s wearing captivates her personality and love for colors to a T.
I’m stumped, not able to take my eyes off her. What the hell is she doing back? Did she know that Clay and Izzie are Natalia and my kids? Is she doing this on purpose, making my kids love her to drop them like I did with her?
Is this all one big game to her? As that thought enters my head, my eyes narrow on her.
My cell blares angrily in the small space but I ignore it as my hands clench into fists.
I step forward about to confront her, but when my cell rings out again, I curse under my breath and pull it out of my jeans pocket. I don’t move my eyes from hers as I hit the answer call button and bring it up to my ear.
“Mr. Carter speaking.”
“Sir,” Catiya’s panicked voice rushes out. “There’s been a problem—”
“I don’t have time for this, I’m at my kids’ art show,” I huff, resting my hand on my hip loosely.
“I know, I... I wouldn’t be calling unless it was... important, but the board have called an emergency meeting. I think they’re staging a coup.”
My eyes drop from Harmony’s and I spin around, looking out of the window that leads onto the balcony.
“Fuck,” I spit out. I knew something like this was going to happen, it was only a matter of time. Pete, I can guarantee that it’s Pete that’s done this. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I say angrily, ending the call and turning back around to face Harmony. “I have to—”
“Go.” She finishes for me.
I step closer and walk past her, stopping when we’re side by side. My nostrils flare as her scent wraps around me, lulling me into a false sense of security as I lift my hand. I desperately want to touch her but I know that it’s not my place, it hasn’t been for a very long time.
Her eyes beg me to but warn me not to all at the same time.
She’s playing a game.
I let my hand drop at the voice inside my head and pull my shoulders back before leaving her and jogging down the stairs.