I have a few summer dresses, at least. I pick out the newest one: one my mother gave me for my birthday last year, and put it on. It’s a navy halter neck with small white flowers all over it. It’s not exactly fancy, but it’ll have to do.
Why is it I can paint a realistic face on a canvas but can’t apply make-up to my own face with any skill? Maybe it’s something to do with my shaking hands. I wipe it off my eyes and start again. In the end, I’ve gone with a subtle amount of eyeshadow and some mascara.
The doorbell rings, and an explosion of butterflies goes off in my chest. I grab my lipstick and apply it as I move to the front door, hoping it looks half decent and that most of it ended up on my lips.
Ava doesn’t know about my date tonight. I never worked up the courage to tell her.
“Yes, she’s here. Come in, I’ll let her know,” Ava says as I round the corner to the entrance.
She turns and sees me, she’s smiling but her brow is furrowed.
“Ava, have you met…” My voice gets stuck in my throat when I see him, and I’m unable to finish my sentence.
Lawson’s wearing a dark suit again, and one glance is enough to send all the butterflies in my chest straight between my legs. Why did I ever think suits were evil again?
“Skye, you look beautiful,” he says and smiles.
He steps through the door and his clean scent fills our little hallway. He rests his hands under my elbows, and kisses me on the cheek. I know it’s only hello, but I turn every shade of red at the fact that he’s done it in front of Ava.
“I’ll leave you two. Have a nice time tonight,” Ava says, returning to the living room.
“I see I’m going out with the prick tonight,” I say, playing with his lapels.
“You lucked out, I got stuck at work and didn’t have time to go home and change.”
“That’s okay, as long as he stays in line.”
Lawson’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead and he laughs.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m not old enough to be called ma’am, sir.”
His leans over and speaks into my ear, “I happen to like it when you call me sir.”
“Yes, I think you mentioned that. Let me show you my studio,” I pause to gaze into his eyes, “sir.”
Before he can respond, I turn and walk down the hall to my studio, trying to collect myself on the way. It seems like every time I see him, his pull on me becomes stronger.
Lawson’s long legs means my head start vanishes in three steps. He rests his hand in the small of my back, as if he is the one leading the way.
I open the door and the familiar smell of paint and solvents hits me. I flick the light switch. Ava installed a circle of sodium lamps around the room for painting at night, and after a few flickers, my studio is bathed in bright light.
“Wow, impressive,” Lawson says, walking around the empty space with his hands in his pockets.
“Thanks,” I say sheepishly. I’m suddenly unsure why I brought him in here.
He comes to stand in front of the two easels that still hold the last two ‘rich things out of place’ paintings.
“These are breathtaking,” he says looking at me.
“These, actually, were inspired by Freya.”
“By Freya?”
“Yep. Her being a rich thing out of place inspired me to think of other rich things in places they don’t fit.”
“I get it. The tiara on the scarecrow. Very clever.”
“And the diamonds earring on the tree.” I point to it. “There was a third, but I finished it and it’s now for sale at the gallery I sell through.”
“Was it about me? Being a rich person where I don’t belong?” His eyes bore into mine as he says it.
The butterflies inside me swirl like a tornado, but I try to hold his stare. “I thought the prick was staying in line tonight. Sir.”
Still holding my eyes, he closes the distance between us, his hands still in his pockets. “If you keep calling me sir, I’m not going to be responsible for what the prick does to you.”
“Is that so? Sir.”
“Now you’re just playing with the poor prick.” His hands whip out of his pocket and land firmly on my shoulders. Lawson pulls me close and kisses me. Our first kiss in private, and there’s most definitely a difference.
He backs me up against the bare wall, grinding his mouth into mine. A whimper escapes my voice and my knees are on the verge of buckling. But he holds me up by pressing his body into mine.
I’ve never known any feeling like this. The butterflies have multiplied again; it seems each one has turned into a thousand, and they’ve spread from my chest to my fingertips and toes.