Lace and Paint (True Colors Book 1) by Ally Sky (6)

I’m lying in bed. I’ve been awake for over an hour. It’s Monday morning and I can’t get the goofy smile off my face. I can’t ignore my dramatic mood swing. Yesterday, the only thing I wanted to do was hide out in the basement, and now I’m hugging my pillow. A picture of Ben, standing next to me at the park, drenched with the rain, is stuck in my head.

He said he doesn’t want a girlfriend. Something happened with his last one. He wanted marriage and kids, and she left for India.

I just don’t know what to make of it. And, as a matter of fact, at this very moment, lying in bed with his image stuck in my head, I don’t really care. At this stage I don’t really care much about anything—not that he’s Danny’s friend, or his boss, or any other definition they may decide on. I don’t care that I’ve only known him for a short while, and that half of that time he’s annoyed me. All I want to do now is see him again and drive him insane, so that he’ll change his mind and want me.

It’s ten when I finally pull myself out of bed and indulge in a long shower, allowing the water to flow over my body. Thinking about him sends seductive tingles through my entire body.

I throw on a loose shirt and dark jeans and go to the empty kitchen. Danny and John are at work. I make myself a cup of coffee and go outside to smoke a cigarette. The rain hasn’t stopped since yesterday. I sit down on the spacious sofa and watch as it waters the garden.

I power up my laptop, light my first cigarette, and inhale deeply. Yesterday I invited my blog followers to participate in a game. Let’s see if anyone has come up with an interesting idea. Regardless, it’s still early. I’m pretty sure no one has even read it yet…

Wow! What the hell is this? I press refresh. No way—there must be a mistake.

The page comes up again. Nope. No mistake. Twenty-three new responses. What the hell?

The name brings a huge smile to my face. Someone is addicted to ‘50 Shades of Grey.’ This could be interesting.

Every girl who is in the business of seduction should have some useful tools. I recommend you look at the following list:

The object’s address and phone number. One can never know when this may come in handy, and it would be a pity to spoil a good idea and a perfect performance because of lack of preparation. Good planning is the foundation of every success.

If you have his number, here is a link to a great site, which can help you find his address.

Conduct exhaustive research, which includes hobbies, working hours, restaurants, and favorite haunts, friends, family, and cars. There is no such thing as running into him by chance on the street. Leave that to the amateurs. If you bring a bottle of wine, bring what he likes best. Don’t you think so? We never know who we’ll need to recruit for help, so it’s best not to puncture the tires of the wrong car!

Wow! I laugh out loud. That’s going one step too far! Puncturing tires? I’m in the seduction business, not Fatal Attraction. And I don’t need to bump into him by chance. I have a feeling he’ll show up whether or not I want him to. But I can definitely relate to the idea that I should be prepared. Contingency plans can be useful. C.T.G, stick around, I may need more ideas from you later.

I finish approving all my responses and assume there’ll be more by evening. I stub out my cigarette, lean back, and take a sip of my weak coffee.

Maybe it’s time to go through Danny’s papers and try to discover some vital information, such as Ben’s phone number. In Danny and John’s bedroom, there’s a big desk against the wall. I know I’m not supposed to be in here, invading their privacy like this. It’s completely inappropriate. So I’d better do it quickly.

Danny’s business card is on the desk. It has their office address. I take a picture of it with my phone and hurriedly go through the drawer. Just his number. That’s all I need. His phone number…

I can’t find it anywhere.So, annoyed, I leave the room and go out to the patio. How the hell am I going to get the guy if I can’t do a simple thing like find his phone number?

Oh, it’s so obvious! I pick up my phone from the table and dial John.

“Hi. Everything okay?” His voice is calm and pleasant first thing in the morning. Everything’s great. I was just poking around in your bedroom. How are things with you?

“Everything’s fine. John, maybe you can do me a favor? Ben still hasn’t come by to get his painting and I’d like to call to remind him. Do you have his number?” I ask confidently. He has no reason to suspect my motives. John takes things in stride. Danny is another story.

“Sure. I’ll text it to you.”

“Thanks. See you this evening.” I breathe a sigh of relief and finish the conversation. After a few seconds, my mobile beeps, and Ben’s number appears on the screen. Mission accomplished.

I’m in the kitchen making toast, in a great mood. I like it when I don’t let past events get me down. Though I’m completely aware that everything can change in a matter of hours. Nevertheless, right now I’m happy and feeling naughty, and that’s all that matters.

I finish eating and go downstairs. On the floor against the wall is the painting Ben liked. I take out my phone and take a picture of the painting. Then I type a message.

I send the message with the painting and turn on the music system. B.B. King and Clapton are playing “Rock Me Baby” and it suits my exultant mood.

I pull the box with my colors next to me and start painting. My body sways to the music as my fingers smear the colors slowly, lazily, and I hum. Something about the blues, the rain, and the feeling of the canvas…my heart expands and, for one happy wonderful moment, I can breathe.

I wash my hands and peek at the clock. Five thirty. I need to get supper ready. Danny and John will just have to manage with toast and omelets tonight.

I go up the stairs, grab my phone to send a message to Danny, and see a new message waiting for me.

And his number is attached. I reread his message, grinning. He gave me his private number. He likes my silliness, although he has no idea what I’m planning. And what does that even mean? That he’s coming to take the painting?

My men and I are sitting around the table. Danny and John are having a stupid argument about something at work. I’m not listening to them. Legal issues and building plans. I can’t stop thinking about that response to my blog, about puncturing tires. Oh my God! I grin. Now that’s a crazy idea.

“What are you thinking about?” Danny sees my smile. Shit. I swallow.

“I think I need to find a job.” I say the first thing that comes to mind. Well, I do have to start looking for a job this week.

“John, that girl who worked with Sarah, what’s her name?” Danny scrunches his face, trying to remember. He’s always bad with names.

“Jill?” John answers and takes another bite of his toast.

“Yeah. Didn’t she leave?”

“Yep,” John answers uninterestedly.

“Well, what do you think?” Danny stares at him with an unfathomable look.

“Talia? She’d be perfect,” John answers back, nodding. What are they talking about?

“I need to check with Ben.” Danny is being mysterious.

“Check what?” I ask intrigued.

“About a job.”

“With you?” I pull a face. What can I do at a construction company?

“Is it beneath you to work with us?” Danny grins.

“It’s not that. I just don’t know what I’d be able to do there.”

“There’s a job with Sarah from Interior Design. She needs someone who can visit art galleries for her. I’m not exactly sure. In any case, I need to speak to Ben first.” He carries on eating his omelet.

Working in Ben’s company? This just keeps getting better and better. Not what I expected. I have no doubt that it could create some great opportunities for me. My imagination goes wild and starts plotting and scheming. An impish smile appears on my face.

“You’re full of smiles today.” John laughs at me, and I blush like a ripe tomato in a hothouse, as though he can read my thoughts. “Are you coming outside?”

“Sure.” I’m still smiling. I’m dying for a cigarette.

We laze about on the sofas outside, drinking coffee, smoking, and watching the rain fall from the roof, watering the grass.

“So, why do you think I’d be perfect for the job?” I pry.

What are the odds of Ben letting me work for him? As it is, we’re still trying to figure out how this friends thing works. Meaning, he’s busy trying to annoy me and I’m busy trying to seduce him.

“Because you love art, you’re friendly, and you know how to dress when you want to.”

“Well, Danny still needs to speak to Ben.”

“Yes. He bailed out of supper at the last minute today,” John states, and my heart clenches slightly. Ben bailed out of supper? I wonder why.

“Did he stay at the office?” I pry.

“No, he went home. He’s probably eating a packet of crisps in front of his laptop on the couch. I swear that man never stops working.”

“Yes, well, the company is growing,” I roll my eyes.

“I see you’ve talked to each other,” John laughs.

“More or less,” I answer vaguely. He has no idea what Ben and I talked about yesterday and I’m keeping my promise not to tell Danny. I assume this includes John.

“So what are your plans?” John’s question surprises me.

My plans? Which ones are we talking about? Because I have many. My head is full of plans; schemes and seductions, and naughty things.

“This evening.” John gets up from the couch.

“Oh, this evening,” I stammer.

Of course this evening. What did I think he was talking about? I’m so dumb sometimes…

“I think just a shower and then bed,” I reply. Then Facebook and my blog. And Facebook again.

“Good,” he smiles and goes inside with me following behind.

I’m lying in bed, wearing only a tiny black tank top and panties. I open my laptop, go to my Facebook page, and I can immediately see Ben is logged into his. He’s so confusing. I know I’m on a serious mission to drive him crazy, but what does he want? Well, let’s give him another taste of my favorite world of chatting.

I log out and can’t stop smiling. I know things he doesn’t have an inkling about. At this very moment, my inbox is filling up with new ideas, and I plan on using every one of them to conquer him.

I lie on my side, staring at the naughty sentence I wrote, and I can just imagine his voice, whispering, moaning those words in my ear, lying on top of me naked and coming inside me.