I rolled over and opened my eyes as the sunlight peeked through the sheer curtains that hung perfectly from the windows. I threw on some yoga pants and a T-shirt and followed the aroma that led me straight to the kitchen. Connor was sitting at the table, typing away on his laptop.
“Good morning, Ellery. I hope you slept well.”
I smiled and headed to the cabinet for a coffee mug. “Good morning. I slept very well in that monstrous bed.”
He chuckled. I poured some coffee and sat at the table across from him. “There are bagels over there; please have one.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
He looked at me with his morning green eyes. “You have to eat, Ellery.”
I sighed. “I never eat when I first get up, but don’t worry, Dad, I’ll have one in a little bit.”
A slight, irritated smile graced his face. “You’re even a smart ass first thing in the morning.” I held up my cup and smiled.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I pointed to his laptop.
“Just sending some emails and rearranging some meetings.”
“Did you over-schedule or something?”
He looked at me and cocked his head. “You question everything, don’t you?”
I looked up at the ceiling. “I guess I do.” I smiled.
I sat and stared at him as he was looking at his computer screen. He was freshly showered, and his hair was still damp and perfectly sexy.
“What are your plans today?” he curiously asked. I set my cup down and wrapped my hands around the mug.
“I have to call work and tell my boss that I won’t be in because of the funeral; then I think I’ll stop over at the soup kitchen and volunteer this afternoon.”
Connor looked up from his laptop. “You really enjoy volunteering there, don’t you?”
“Yes, I love it. Even though they are homeless and whatever problems they may have, they’re human beings, and they need help.”
He looked at me for a second and then continued on his laptop. I took a sip of my coffee and looked out the enormous window at the view of New York City.
“I rearranged my meetings because I’m taking you to Michigan.”
“What?” I asked.
He got up from the table and put his cup on the counter. “It’s not up for discussion, Elle; we’re leaving tomorrow morning, and we’re driving.”
“Driving? That’s a ten-hour drive, Connor!”
He turned around and faced me. “I know how long of a drive it is; consider it a road trip.”
I sighed. “A road trip? Flying will get us there in an hour and a half.”
“Do you have a problem being in a car with me for ten hours?” he casually asked.
“No, but…”
He walked over to where I was sitting and stood over me as if he wanted to touch or kiss me, but he didn’t. He just said, “No buts; we’ll go by car.”
“I don’t think Denny wants to drive us to Michigan.”
He laughed and walked away. “Denny isn’t driving; I am.”
I rolled my eyes and heavily sighed. Why was he going anyway? I was more than capable of going back home by myself, and that was the way I preferred it. Okay, maybe not; the thought of being in a car with him for ten hours was exciting. I smiled and got up from the table.
***
I grabbed my bag and stepped into the elevator. Denny was waiting for me outside by the limo.
“Morning, Denny. Where’s Connor?” I asked as I looked, and he wasn’t in the limo.
“Good morning, Miss Lane. Mr. Black took the Range Rover to work today.”
“Can I ask you a question, Denny?”
“Sure, Miss Lane,” he said as he looked at me through the rearview mirror.
“Did Mr. Black tell you why he’s driving me to Michigan?”
“No, Miss Lane, he did not. He just told me to take the next few days off because he was going on a road trip. Miss Lane, can I tell you something?”
I looked curiously at him. “What is it?”
“I’ve worked for the Black family for the past ten years. I was his father’s driver as well. I’ve never seen Mr. Black behave in such a way as he has since he's met you. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this.”
I smiled. “Nah, it’s okay, Denny. We’re friends, and maybe all Connor needs is a really good friend.” It saddened me that it was the only way things could be.
I stepped into my apartment and headed to the bathroom to take a hot bath. I needed to think about everything before I headed back to Michigan. I climbed into the hot, bubbly water and closed my eyes, taking in the lavender-scented bubbles. My phone rang just as I was starting to relax.
“Hey, Peyton,” I answered. There was a screech from the other end.
“OMG, Elle; I have the best news!” Even though I couldn’t see her, I knew she was jumping up and down.
“Elle, all three of your paintings sold!”
I sat up. “What? Are you kidding?”
“No, I wouldn’t kid about a thing like that. The best part is the same person bought all three paintings and paid triple the amount for them. They said your paintings are the most beautiful they’ve ever seen. Elle, Sal wants to talk to you about becoming a regular artist for the gallery; he wants to contract you for more paintings. Listen, the money you made off those three alone, you can quit your job to paint full-time.”
“Who was the buyer?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Sal said it was some woman. I have your check. Can you meet for lunch later?”
“Lunch sounds great. I’m going to volunteer at the soup kitchen for a couple of hours, then we can meet after that. I’ll text you.”
I hung up the phone and lay back against the tub, reveling in my good news. I never dreamed any of my paintings would sell, especially all three of them. I couldn’t wait to tell Connor. I wanted to text him, but he was at work, and I was sure he was busy, so I figured I shouldn’t bother him. I got out of the tub, pruned skin and all, and threw on a pair of skinny jeans and a long sweater. I walked across the hallway as a wave of dizziness came over me. Suddenly, everything turned black.
I awoke lying on the floor and my head hurting. I lay there dazed and confused, trying to focus and remember what happened. I was pretty sure I fainted. I sat up as I felt something dripping down my face. I took my fingers and swiped them across the drips and looked in horror at the blood all over them. I took a deep breath and got up to look in the mirror. I had a deep cut above my eye, and it was bleeding pretty badly. I opened the medicine cabinet, took out some gauze, and applied pressure to the wound. I kept begging God to make it stop and not have to go get stitches. I reached back inside the medicine cabinet. I took out the box of butterfly bandages that I had left over from when Kyle cut his finger with a knife. I applied the bandage and hoped for the best. Why now? Why did this have to happen now? Just an hour ago, I was basking in the glory of the sale of my paintings, and now I was standing in front of the mirror with a gash above my eye that might or might not require stitches.
I went to the cupboard and pulled out the bottle of Motrin. I took two caplets and headed over to the record company to give my notice. Peyton was right; if Sal wanted to contract me, then painting would become my full-time job. I just hoped I would make enough money to live on.