KATE

Drake left Sophie and me and took his car down the coast to Maureen's. Instead of spending the afternoon with him before I went to the studio as I had planned, it would just be Sophie and me, alone as usual.

I felt bad for Drake and Brenda, having to work together to try and figure out how to deal with Maureen's depression and desire to leave the country with Chris, but if Drake could get shared custody, maybe this would give him the chance to really be a father to Liam. He saved Liam's life and now, maybe he'd be able to get to know him as a son. My heart squeezed to think of how sad Liam would be to see his mother leave. How could he feel anything but rejected and abandoned? Maureen had to be completely depressed to be willing to leave Liam behind and go with Chris. I couldn’t understand it.

But then I remembered – that's exactly what happened to Drake.

Drake's mother left him when he was only ten years old. She'd never recovered from the loss of Drake's older brother, Liam. Was history repeating itself?

I promised myself that I would be a real mother to Liam, if he came to live with us. Drake grew up without a mother. He had a succession of nannies and housekeepers who looked after him well enough but of course, they likely didn’t love him the way a mother does.

I wouldn't let Liam grow up without a mother, if it came to that. I felt tears fill my eyes at the thought that Maureen could even consider leaving Liam, and hugged Sophie tightly while she sat in my lap and drank her afternoon bottle before her nap.

What a cruel world it was that little children grew up without mothers...

Sure, maybe some were better off without their mother if she was abusive, but still...

I spent the afternoon hugging Sophie, unable to imagine leaving her. She fell asleep in my arms with her bottle and I let her sleep with me on the sofa instead of moving her to her crib, just because I felt a need to have her with me. When Elaine called, I whispered into my phone, hoping to let Sophie sleep longer.

"Hi, can I text you? Sophie's asleep with me."

"Sure, I'll send you a text."

"Thanks, bye."

I ended the call and read Elaine's text, holding the cell with one hand while the other held Sophie beside me on the sofa.

ELAINE: Just calling to check on you two coming for supper before leaving Sophie with us.

KATE: We're so thankful you agreed. We haven't been alone since our stay at the Ritz-Carleton. Drake's out right now but we'll come by later.

ELAINE: Where's Drake? I thought he had the day off. Don't tell me he's back at the hospital...

KATE: No, Drake is at Maureen's talking to Brenda about Liam.

ELAINE: What's up?

KATE: Maureen wants to go to Indonesia with Chris. Wants to leave Liam behind with Brenda but in Manhattan. Drake wants him to come and stay with us.

ELAINE: Oh, poor Liam! What's the matter?

KATE: Chris is unhappy in the U.S. Maureen doesn't want to stay without him but can't take Liam due to his medical needs.

ELAINE: Oh, dear. Chris just moved back. Poor Liam. I hope she lets Drake take him. Are you okay with that?

KATE: I can't imagine him not coming to live with us! It makes me cry to imagine Liam losing his mother and then moving back to Manhattan when Drake is here. It will make it just that much harder for Drake and Liam to form a real relationship.

ELAINE: I know. Me, too. Poor child. Do you want me to come up and pick up Sophie while you go to your studio? Then you two could come for supper or not – it's up to you.

KATE: That would be so nice of you. I'll talk to Drake about it.

ELAINE: Okay, I'll come by and pick up Sophie.

KATE: Thanks. I'd like to stop by the art supply store and pick a few things up. I wouldn't stay for long. Maybe an hour or so.

ELAINE: I'll see you soon.

KATE: Thanks, Elaine. I appreciate it.

I sighed and put my cell away, slipping Sophie's pacifier back in her mouth when she shifted in my arms. She kept her eyes closed and didn’t wake up when I stood up with her, so I took her to her bedroom and laid her down in her crib, tucking her blanket up around her. She didn’t move a muscle.

Then, I got ready to go to the studio.

After Elaine arrived and took Sophie, I drove into San Francisco. I parked my car about a block from the art supply store, which was in the same neighborhood as my studio, and went inside to check out the supplies. I should have been excited about the trip, but I felt so bad for Liam and there was a bit of a damper on my day as a result. Still, I needed some new paint thinner and brushes, as well as other supplies, so I spent the next fifteen minutes selecting what I needed, gathering them in a basket before going to the checkout.

"Are you a member?" the cashier asked.

"No," I replied. "Is there a membership?"

She handed me a brochure, which explained that members paid an annual fee but got 10% off all supplies. I signed up on the spot. Not that I needed to worry about price, but I wanted to support the store and my $25 was nothing. Plus, it would make me feel like a real member of the community to have the little card and use it when I visited.

I finished the paperwork, paid my fee and then left. On my way out, I saw the flyer about Sefton's exhibition taped to the front window. Apparently, it was a big enough thing that it was advertised even in the local art supply stores.

I shrugged and carried my new card and supplies out to the car. Then I drove to a small office furniture store a few blocks away so I could pick up a stool. I needed something to use to sit at the workbench and found the perfect chair on rollers that was higher than normal and was adjustable. Satisfied that I had the perfect choice, I paid for it and then went back to the car, driving the few blocks to the studio. I parked and carried my packages inside, eager now to get the studio space better organized, my mind occupied for the moment and off the issues Drake and I faced back home.

The studio would be my personal escape from life. I wouldn't spend much time there, but it would be enough to keep my artistic pursuits alive. One day, when Sophie went to school, I'd have more time to spend painting – if that was what I wanted to do. I even considered finishing my MA, if the time came when I felt the drive to do so.

I was damn lucky and I knew it. Most women didn’t have my options.

I worked away in the studio, organizing my supplies and unpacking the stool, getting it set up and adjusted to the right height. Then, I couldn't resist setting up my easel and considering my current canvas. I got out my paints and started working on the elephant, getting my paints mixed just right. My mind was completely occupied with the painting and I forgot about the time as I worked away. When my cell dinged, I was brought back to the present and checked my watch. I'd been gone for an hour and a half.

It was Drake.

DRAKE: Hey, I came home and found Elaine here with Sophie. I assume you're still at the studio.

KATE: I'm sorry – I should have texted you to let you know. I didn’t want to bother you when you were with Brenda. I lost track of time but will be home right away.

DRAKE: Don't hurry. Come when you're ready. Sophie and I are having fun together. Elaine told me we're going to their place for a barbecue.

KATE: Yes, I agreed already. I hope you don't mind. I'll clean up and be home soon.

DRAKE: I don’t mind at all. I love you.

KATE: I love you.

I smiled and turned off my cell, then started to clean up. On my way to the building's trash chute, which disposed of any materials that were toxic or flammable such as turpentine, I ran into a man coming out of the disposal room. Tall, dark with longish hair in a man bun, he looked every inch the artist. Black t-shirt, worn jeans, black boots, and a kerchief around his head, he fit right in to my ideas of the bohemian artist.

"Oh, hello," he said and stopped when I grabbed the door handle to the garbage room. "You're the new tenant in studio 8."

"I am," I said and turned to face him. "I'm Kate."

"Sean," he said and extended his hand, then thought better of it since it was stained with paint. "I'm in studio 6, just down from you. What kind of art do you do?"

"Wildlife," I said. "I just started painting a series based on a trip to Africa."

"Cool," he said and smiled. "I do urban animals."

"Really?" I said and smiled back. "I'd love to see your work."

"Come on over. I'm working on one now."

"I will."

I waited for him to throw out his handful of rags that smelled like turpentine and then followed him down the hall to the studios. We entered his studio and I saw his paintings on the wall. Very impressionistic animals you'd find in the city – crows, sea birds, cats in alleys, dogs roaming garbage bins in a slum that looked like it came from some South American shanty town. He was talented and definitely had a point of view.

"These are great," I said, moving from one to the next. "This looks like it's in Mexico City or some slum in South America."

"Bogota, Columbia. The slum is called Ciudad Bolívar."

"You spent time there?"

"I went on a gap year before college. A friend and I travelled across the USA and down to Tierra del Fuego at the tip of Argentina."

I walked around his studio and examined each painting, and then his studio, interested in what other residents of the building did and how they arranged their spaces. He had an old purple sofa against one wall, but the rest of the space was dedicated to storing canvases and paints, brushes and other supplies.

He leaned against the wall beside me as I looked at a painting of a fox near an upended trash can.

"You want to go for drinks when you're done? There's a great little hole in the wall bar that serves Tapas down the street."

I smiled and held up my wedding ring. "Married. Baby. Sorry."

"My loss. If you ever change your mind, let me know."

"Change my mind about what?" I said with a laugh.

"Marriage," he said, grinning widely. "Fidelity. Monogamy."

"Not likely, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"Well, that's something at least."

I raised my eyebrows, amazed he felt so free to try to pick me up after we only knew each other for ten minutes.

"Can I come and see your etchings?" he said, still grinning.

"Sure," I replied and went to the door. "I paint though. Oil. No etchings."

He followed me down the hallway to my studio and for a moment, in the back of my mind, I was a bit nervous that he might get the wrong idea and make another attempt to pick me up. I opened my studio door and let him in. I glanced around the studio, wondering what someone else would think about my space and what it said about me.

"Nice," he said and went to my easel, checking out the painting. "Did you do this from memory or from a photo?"

I went to the collection of photos I used to compose the piece and showed him. "I was on an art safari in Kenya."

"Cool," and then he checked out the rest of my space. Finally, as I was packing up my things, he came over to me, standing just a bit too close for my liking. I took a step back, my bag on my shoulder.

"Like I say, if you ever change your mind..."

"Not likely," I said and then opened the door. "I have to go. Meeting the husband and baby at my parents for a barbecue, so..."

He walked beside me and I swear he brushed up against me on purpose. What a flirt...

"See you around," he said and then he smiled again, walking down the hallway backwards to his studio.

"Nice to meet you," I replied and then scurried out of the building, glad to be away from him. It wasn't that I was at all tempted, but I didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

I arrived back at the house and found Drake and Sophie sitting on the sofa, watching television. Sophie was drinking her afternoon bottle and was playing with a stuffed toy, her eyes crinkling at the corners when she saw me. Drake was watching the news. On the screen, I saw a reporter standing in front of the district courthouse in Manhattan. On the banner below it read Murder Trial of Yonkers Billionaire Takes Twist.

"What's that?" I asked, sitting on the sofa beside Drake and Sophie.

"Apparently, Lisa's boyfriend was involved in another suspicious death before he met her. It involved his girlfriend's younger sister, who died while intoxicated. Seems the police are exhuming the body to do another autopsy."

"They suspect him of having murdered her?"

"Yeah, he was quite a troubled kid, I guess. Neighbors said he was always strange. They always say that after the fact, but in truth, most murderers blend in except for the most psychotic."

"Trust Lisa to get mixed up with a serial killer in the making."

"She knew how to pick 'em," Drake said with a sigh. "This just means there'll be more gossip about me at the hospital. I was mentioned as one of Lisa's BDSM partners."

"Did they give you a new name at least?"

"Former neurosurgeon at NYP now living in California, Dr. Drake Morgan, whose wife was attacked by Lisa. I was hoping things would slowly die down with the case, but I guess not. They're trying him separately from Lisa since he was the one who actually did the killing."

"Do you suppose he killed the little sister and made it look like an accident?"

"Could be. His father is a veterinarian. They have access to drugs."

"How awful."

We sat in silence and watched the news for a few moments. Sophie reached for me, so I took her from Drake's arms and held her while Drake got up to make a cup of coffee.

"Do you want one?"

I nodded. "I'll need one if you're going to keep me up late tonight," I said, my eyes narrow.

"Count on it, Mrs. Morgan," Drake said with a delicious smile. "I have so many plans for you..."

That made my heart race and my flesh respond.

It would heighten my arousal to have to wait all evening, eating dinner with my father and Elaine and then returning home to an entire night with my handsome and very sensual and lusty husband.

I took in a deep breath and tried to be patient but it was hard.