“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or an insult.” He doesn’t look insulted though, more entertained.
I study him a long moment, trying to see something I’ve missed in him. Some hint of what makes him like my father, or Michael—who rides my father’s coattails and acts like he’s successful on his own--but I see nothing. He doesn’t treat people like they are beneath him. In fact, when he’d given me the clothes, he’d acted like wearing them was a favor to him, not an honor he’d bestowed upon me.
I lean forward, push to my toes, and kiss him on his sexy, perfect mouth. “It’s a compliment, Chris. In every way possible.” I pull back and see a flicker of surprise on his face before I slide into the car, letting the soft leather absorb my weight. He said I was never what he expected. He is never what I expect. And when Chris slips behind the wheel, and revs the engine of the 911 into a soft purr, I do not think about the car’s connection to my father. I revel in how utterly male and sexy Chris is as he maneuvers the sleek vehicle onto the highway.
We are weaving through several side streets and Chris cranks up the radio to the old AC/DC song ‘Back in Black’ and I laugh. “Old school rock n’ roll? I guess it goes with a Mustang obsession.”
“I use music to paint by. This one reminds me of a particular work I created not so long ago.”
“Every piece of art has a song attached?” I’m thrilled to see inside his creative process.
“Some pieces I play the same song over and over. Some I have a collection of songs I use.”
“And this song goes to what work?”
“A ‘Stormy Night‘ San Fran piece I sold at auction last year.”
We begin to cross the Bay Bridge and I am growing curious about our destination, but not as curious as I am about Chris. “A Dark Sea ,” I say, knowing exactly the work he means.
He casts me a sideways look. “You do know your art and artists, don’t you?”
I smile and sink lower into my seat, wondering if I will truly know this artist. “It sold for an astounding amount of money, Chris.” Seven figures.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “It did.”
I turn to face him, studying his profile. “How does it feel to have people pay seven figures for your creation?”
“Like validation.”
It’s not the answer I expect. “Surely you’re well beyond needing validation?” He steers the car out of the city and onto a major highway.
“I create in solitude and then take whatever I put on the canvas out to the world. And not all of my work sells for big money. A lot doesn’t.”
“You make millions a year on your art, Chris. That’s big money.”
“It’s not about the money. I donate most of it anyway.”
“You donate your art proceeds?”
“That’s right.”
“To whom?”
“Some years back, I was talked into an event held at the Los Angeles Children’s Hospital and it was pretty mind-blowing. All those brave kids, and the parents who were dying inside right along with them. I knew I had to do what I could to help and I have since.”
He donates his money to save dying children. There are so many layers to this man — deep, dark, wonderful layers. I know he’s fucked up. I know he’s damaged. I know this need to help children must call to some part of him that’s raw and bleeding. Which part?
“Have you guessed where we’re going?” he asks, before I can find the words to express how much I admire what he’s doing.
I glance around and realize we are on highway 29 North. “Napa Valley?” And it hits me he’s taking me to a winery to show his support of my career.
“Have you ever been?”
I laugh. “No. I wasn’t kidding when I said I have zero knowledge of wine. Well, I guess now I can say I have some knowledge but not much.”
“We’ll fix that,” he promises.
My lips curve. I’m going to my first winery. I’ve always thought it would be a neat thing to do. “I’m excited, Chris. Thank you.”
He grabs my hand and kisses it, cutting me a mischievous look. “I’m looking forward to having you alone and well wined.”
I bite my lip. “Chivalry will get you everywhere.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“You didn’t sleep much,” he comments. “Maybe you should rest your eyes so you can enjoy our getaway.”
“What about you? You slept less than me.”
“I slept enough. Rest, baby. This is the one place you can count on me letting you sleep this weekend.”
My lips curve. “Sounds like I should take a nap.” I let my eyes shut, the soft hum of the car vibrating through me, and Chris at the wheel. I find I am more relaxed than I have been in a very long time.