Chapter Eleven
Lucy
“What part of going on a date with Hunter is you keeping your promise to stay away from him?” Lucky yells from my bedroom.
“It’s not a date, Lucky. It’s just a dinner to thank me for helping him with his gallery opening.” Or at least that is the lie that I’m telling myself to keep from throwing up in my closet right now. After I picked up Bailey from Hunter’s, he asked if he could treat me to dinner as a thank you for all my help. I told him I would only do it as long as we work on the final layout for each artists section in the gallery. This way it would technically stay within the lines of business. and there would also be no wine to make me forget that Hunter is off limits.
“You and I both know that is a lie.” Lucky stops in the doorway of my closet. Her brow furrows and her lips curl up in disgust. “What the hell are you wearing, Grandma Lucy?”
I look down at my green floral dress and black leggings, wondering what she finds so appalling about my outfit. “What is wrong with this, I wear this all the time,” I say, sliding on my cardigan.
“It’s fine for the PTA or the retirement home. Do you own anything that shows off some skin?” Lucky walks past me and starts riffling through the racks of clothes hanging along the back wall.
“Lucky, I’m a mom. I can’t be wearing clothes with my tits hanging out anymore.” I ignore what she is doing and continue to pick out my shoes.
“You’re a mom, you’re not dead. I’m just saying, you should wear something that shows off that gorgeous bod of yours.”
“What I’m wearing is just fine, Lucky.” I slip on my green ballet flats and try to hide the eye roll.
“At least take off the leggings. Give Hunter easy access for some under the table action.” She comes up behind me and flips up my skirt. I swat her hands away and scoot out of reach.
“Lucky, for the last time, nothing is going to happen between me and Hunter. Now come on, I have to go.” I grab my bag and start for the door. Lucky jumps in front of me, blocking the doorway to my bedroom. “Lucky, what the fuck, I’m going to be late.”
“I will let you leave dressed in my grandmother’s curtains only if you promise I can pick what you wear for the studio opening.”
I let out an annoyed sigh and shake my head. “If I agree, will you stop teasing me about getting into Hunter’s pants?” I gotta get something out of this too. I know I’m going to hate whatever dress she picks out.
Lucky taps her fingertips along her chin, pretending to think it over. “I can live with those terms.” She steps out of my way. “Have a nice business dinner.” She didn’t put up much of a fight, which means I’m in big trouble with this dress.
****
“This is not exactly the dinner I was thinking of treating you to, Lucy.”
I peak over my shoulder at Hunter as he walks through the door of his studio with bags of food in his hands. “The opening is in a few days and we have a lot of work to do.” Hunter said this whole dinner thing was just his way of saying thank for all my help, but it still felt like too much of a date, and I didn’t want that, so I suggested we eat while we work. It’s two people eating some food and hanging artwork, nothing romantic about that at all.
“I wanted to take you to a nice restaurant. Eating out of to-go containers wasn’t how I imagined this night going,” he says, setting the bags on the table next to all the artwork we still have to install.
“Are you kidding, I get a private dinner in one of the hottest new art studios in Seattle. Best dinner ever,” I say, twirling around the middle of the floor. All our hard work has paid off, this place looks amazing.
“You are something else, Ms. Bishop.” He chuckles and tosses me my double bacon cheeseburger.
“I’m a limited edition.” I smile and hop up on the table.
“That is an understatement.” He winks, popping a French fry in his mouth. “Do you really think I’ve got something here?” he asks.
“Hunter, this gallery is incredible. You have an amazing eye and it’s going to pay off,” I assure him. I’ve been inside every art gallery in Seattle and none of them compare to what Hunter has here. He has a unique style that has been cultivated from his years of traveling all over the world. He has nothing to worry about.
“I couldn’t have pulled this off without all your help.” Hunter parks his massive frame next to me on the table.
“It was a lot fun and a nice break from serving coffee.” Hunter’s shoulder brushes against me as he takes a bite of his burger, and my body whimpers for more.
“We make a great team, and I’m going to miss hanging out with you every day.”
“I am too, but you are going to be busy with the gallery and having gorgeous art students coming in here to fawn all over your greatness, you’ll barely notice I’m gone.” It makes me a little sad that I won’t get to see him on a daily basis anymore. This has been some of the most fun I’ve had in years.
“None of those girls have anything on you, Bishop.”
I can’t hide my eye roll from his statement.
“You still don’t believe that I think you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I let out a loud laugh. “Hunter, seriously? Brooke has shown me pictures from all your travels, I have seen the women you are surrounded by, and they are thin and beautiful. With perfect hair and perky boobs. Not one of them had an inch of cellulite anywhere on their bodies. You expect me to believe the crap you are saying right now. Please.” I roll my eyes again.
“I think I have a way to prove it to you,” he challenges.
“Oh, you do, huh? What do you have in mind?”
“Let me photograph you,” he offers.
“Hell no, not in a million years would I let you do that.” Photograph me, is he out of his freaking mind. I don’t even like getting my picture taken for my driver’s license.
“Come on Lucy, let me just take a few pictures, and if you don’t like them I can delete them. Easy as that.”
“I don’t know, Hunter.” I still don’t feel comfortable with this.
“Give me a chance to show you how I see you.”
“I’m going to regret this, but okay.” I just made a huge mistake.