Loyal Heir

by Michelle Heard

  Carla places her hand on my shoulder. “Aria’s scared.”

  I nod. “I know. I don’t know how to reassure her. I’ve tried everything.”

  “You show her she has nothing to be afraid of,” Hana says. “Just be there for her. Once she sees you’re not going anywhere, I’m sure she’ll come around.”

  “That was the plan,” I admit. I finish my coffee, then rinse the cup. “I’ll catch you later.”

  Walking out of the suite, I go to the restaurant. I get a cappuccino and a slice of chocolate cake, then head to the art department.

  When I enter the classroom, and I find Aria behind her easel, I place the beverage and dessert down on the workspace next to her. “Peace offering.”

  Aria doesn’t look at me as she murmurs, “Thanks, but you didn’t have to.”

  I notice she’s wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.

  “You didn’t sleep, did you?”

  I glance at the painting and see she’s working on something new. Bubbles fill the canvas, and in each one, there’s a picture.

  The corner of my mouth lifts when I see one of us when we tried to do the water scene from Dirty Dancing. God, we almost drowned each other that day.

  “You’re painting us?” I ask.

  Aria nods. “My favorite memories.”

  I grab a stool and sit down close to her.

  I watch her hand move, our past taking shape on the canvas.

  Suddenly, Aria stops, and then she lets out a sigh before asking, “I thought we were going to take time apart?”

  Lifting my hand, I take hold of her chin and turn her face to me. “I’ll give you time, but I have something to say first.”

  Aria lifts her eyes to mine, and when I see the heartache reflecting in them, I say, “I don’t know why you’re pulling away from me, but I’m not going anywhere. When you’re ready to be honest with me, you know where to find me. Okay?”

  Aria doesn’t say anything, and it sends a ripple of frustration through my chest.

  I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead. Lowering my mouth to her ear, I whisper, “It has always been you and me. There’s no way I’m letting you go.”

  I pull back and rising to my feet, I wait a couple of seconds, hoping she’ll talk to me.

  She glances up at me, and it sends my heart racing in my chest.

  “We’ll get back to being friends,” she says, and a smile begins to tug at her lips. “I just lost my way. I’ll get my shit together. Just give me a week.”

  It’s going to be the longest week of my life.

  I nod. “Seven days.”

  “Thanks, Forest.”

  I lean down, and not wanting to push things, I press a kiss to her cheek.

  “Get some sleep. Okay?” I gesture to the cake. “And eat.”

  “I will.”

  It’s hard walking away from her, but I feel better after telling her I’m not going anywhere. I’ll give her a week, but after that, we’re settling this once and for all.

  ARIA

  The past couple of days have been pure agony. Every time I run into Forest, his patient smile chips away at my resolve to put distance between us.

  I’ve thrown myself into my art, much to Professor Neel’s delight. Hey, at least I’ll get an A.

  It’s after ten when I walk into my bedroom, my body sore from sitting behind a canvas.

  I turn on the light and almost have a heart attack when I see Carla lying on my bed. She sits up, then mutters, “Finally. I was a minute away from falling asleep.”

  “Hey.” I force a smile to my face. “What’s up?”

  I go to my closet and grab clean clothes.

  When I come out, Carla mimics Timon from The Lion King, “What do you want me to do? Dress in drag and do the hula?”

  She instantly brings a smile to my face. “I missed that.” I sit down next to her and take hold of her hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” she murmurs.

  We sit in silence for a couple of seconds, then Carla asks, “Wanna talk to me?”

  I shake my head. “I’m fine.”

  She lets out a sigh then says, “I’m a nice shark, not a mindless eating machine. If I am to change this image, I must first change myself. Fish are friends, not food.”

  “Bruce from Finding Nemo,” I grin at her. “You’re so damn good at doing impressions.”

  “Yeah, but do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?” she asks, giving my hand a squeeze.

  I shake my head, and it has her explaining, “If you want to have a healthy relationship, you need to change yourself first. Love is good, not the enemy. Get it?”

  I nod.

  Carla turns her body to me. “Don’t punish Forest for what Eli and all the other dickheads you’ve dated did.”

  “I’m…,” I begin to answer, but Carla shakes her head.

  “You are. You put Forest on a pedestal while expecting him to fail.”

  “I didn’t,” I argue.

  “Then tell me what’s the problem,” she asks.

  Carla only knows things ended badly between Eli and me. She doesn’t know what happened, though.

  I let out a hopeless sigh. “I’m the problem. I’m no good at relationships. Forest deserves better.”

  Carla shoves me so hard, I tumble off the side of the bed. “Shit, sorry,” she gasps. “It was either that or I slap you.”

  “What? Why?” I ask while climbing to my feet.

  “Because I had a sudden urge to slap some sense into you,” she grumbles. “God, Aria, do you ever listen to yourself? I mean, what the actual fuck? You’re no good?”

  I shrug and go sit on the stool, for safety’s sake. My shoulders slump as I admit, “I’m the one who’s screwed up every relationship.”

  “Enlighten me. How did you do this?” Carla asks. Crossing her legs, she rests her elbow on her knee and her chin on the back of her hand.

  “Well, with Eli, I was too high maintenance and not good enough,” I give her the short version. “With Spencer, I wasn’t loving enough.” I let out a sigh. “The others pretty much ended because I either sent too many texts, or I didn’t send enough. I was either too clingy or too moody.” I throw my hands up in the air. “Ugh… I’m just not cut out for relationships.”

  “God, you can be glad you’re sitting over there, or I’d slap you for real,” Carla snaps. My eyes dart to hers, and seeing the anger on her face, I begin to frown. Then she says, “The only problem is that you had shitty taste in guys. They were all fucktards.”

  “Yeah, that too,” I agree.

  Carla lets out an impatient huff. “Aria, you’ve never been the problem. Those dickheads were.” She shakes her head at me. “You need to sit down and talk with Forest. You won’t find a better man. Don’t lose him because you’re living in the past. Talk to him about your issues and let him help you deal with them, because at the rate you’re going, you’re going to lose him for good.”

  I don’t want to lose him.

  Carla gets up from the bed. “Things have already gone to shit between the two of you. What do you have to lose?”

  Nothing.

  The realization hits like a tidal wave.

  I really have nothing to lose anymore.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Carla mutters.

  She begins to walk to the door, but I dart up. “Wait.” When she turns back to me, I slam into her and hug her as hard as I can. “I know I suck at communicating but thank you for understanding me anyway.”

  She rubs a hand up and down my back, “That’s what friends are for.”

  Chapter 19

  FOREST

  I’m busy pulling a pair of boxers up my legs when Carla bursts into my room. She stops, takes one look at me, and with her eyes almost rolling out of her head, she turns around and darts out.

  “Noooooo!” I hear her cry as she runs down the hallway. “Aaaahhhhhh… my eyes!”

  I begin to laugh, and it makes it more challenging
getting dressed. Once I have the cargo pants and button-up shirt on, I go after her. She’s sitting in the living room, rocking herself. “I need to bleach my eyes. God, I’m traumatized.”

  I begin to laugh again. “You should’ve seen your face.” I crack up when I recall it. “It looked like your eyes were trying to roll out of their sockets.”

  “The image of your penis is ingrained into my brain,” she complains, still rocking herself. “I’m scarred for life!”

  Laughter explodes from me, and I grab hold of my stomach. When I manage to catch my breath, I say, “That will teach you to just walk into my room.”

  “Never again,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry.” She pulls a face. “Boy, am I sorry.”

  “What was so important it couldn’t wait?” I ask.

  “Oh.” She gets up, and when she looks at me, she pulls a disturbed face. “I really need to bleach my eyes.”

  “Carla,” I chuckle, “the sooner you tell me, the quicker you’re rid of me.”

  “Can you go to the drug store and get me some flu meds?”

  Instantly the smile drops from my face. “Do you feel sick?”

  She nods and sinks back down on the couch. “Yeah. My body aches all over, and my throat feels like someone shoved thorns down it.”

  Noah walks into the living room and takes one look at Carla. He goes to her and taking her hand, he says, “I’ll make sure she gets meds in her.”

  “He’s going to drug and kill me,” she groans.

  “Don’t give me any ideas,” he grumbles as he takes her back into her room.

  I shake my head, and I’m just about to go back to my room to finish getting ready for the event at the gallery when Aria comes into the suite.

  It’s been hard giving her the space she needs.

  “Hey,” she murmurs when she sees me.

  “Tonight’s the big night,” I say. “Are you excited?”

  She nods. Her eyes dart around the living room, then she asks, “Are you still coming?”

  A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Of course.”

  “My dad arranged a private jet to fly us to San Francisco. I’m also staying overnight so I can visit the other galleries while I’m there.” She swallows hard. “I was hoping you’d stay with me so we can talk?”

  Without hesitating, I say, “I’ll pack a bag. What time are we leaving?”

  “At three.” She pulls a cute face while glancing down at the floor. “I’m sorry it’s so soon. I was trying to work up the nerve to ask you.”

  God, I wish I could kiss her right now.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I look back down the hallway, then ask, “Is Carla coming?”

  “I’m going to check with her now.” Aria heads to Carla’s room.

  “I will not eat chicken soup. Don’t you dare order it,” Carla grumbles at Noah.

  “Chicken soup?” Aria asks.

  “Yeah, she’s sick,” Noah mutters. “And a terrible patient.”

  “Aww… no. So you can’t come tonight?” Aria asks as she goes to feel Carla’s forehead. “Do you have meds? Should I go get you some?”

  “I’ve got it covered,” Noah answers. “Don’t worry about her.”

  “Worry about me,” Carla groans. “I’m stuck with the tin man.”

  Trying not to laugh, Aria says, “Damn, we’ll miss you.”

  “You go kick ass,” Carla grins as she turns onto her side. “I’m just going to sleep it off.”

  “I’ll call later to check on you,” I tell Carla.

  “Enjoy the night, guys.”

  When we leave the room, I shut the door behind us. “I’ll just grab a bag and throw some clothes in it. Give me ten minutes.”

  “We have an hour. Don’t rush.”

  Walking into the building where the gallery is, Aria, Uncle Mason, Aunt Kingsley, and I take the elevator to the tenth floor. The doors open to white walls with a piece of art on display. Stepping out, I glance around me. I take a brochure from a table and flip through it. When I see Aria’s piece, a smile instantly tugs at my lips.

  She’s so fucking talented.

  I turn to Uncle Mason. “Aria’s piece is number eight.”

  He looks in the book, then grins. “Will you look at that? My daughter is an artist.”

  I check the numbers on the other paintings until I find Aria’s. Abstract brushstrokes form a forest. Light shimmers through the shadows. The longer I stare, the more detail I notice, and then suddenly, a couple embracing pops out. It rips the breath from my lungs.

  Is that us?

  Uncle Mason comes to stand next to me, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s a proud look in his eyes, and a soft smile tugs at his lips. “A masterpiece,” Uncle Mason murmurs. “Aria’s the most talented by far.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s get something to drink,” Uncle Mason mutters. We leave the women by Aria’s artwork. Reaching a table with beverages and snacks, I grab a bottle of water while Uncle Mason picks up a flute of champagne.

  His eyes land on me. “Is everything okay between you and Aria?”

  “We had a falling out, but we’re working through it.” I won’t even try to lie to Uncle Mason.

  “Mind if I ask what the fight was about?” he asks. He reaches for my arm and pulls me to the side, so we’re out of the way of the other attendees.

  Opening the bottle, I take a sip, then answer, “We got our signals crossed.”

  “With?”

  This is the last conversation I want to have with him, but I know there’s no way around it. “We’re dating.”

  Uncle Mason’s eyes widen for a moment. I expect a strong reaction from him. Anger, a warning, disappointment. Hell, I’m even prepared for a slap upside the head.

  Instead, he tilts his head. “For real?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  A knowing smile tugs at his lips. “So what’s the problem then?”

  “I think she’s still adjusting to the fact that we’re in a relationship,” I reply.

  “Yeah,” Uncle Mason murmurs. “She takes after her old man. Just give her time to get used to the idea.”

  I glance to where Aunt Kingsley and Aria are, and my gaze drifts over the black dress she’s wearing. She looks fucking gorgeous.

  Uncle Mason places a hand on my shoulder, then asks, “Aria is staying in San Francisco tonight so she can visit the other galleries in the city. Are you also staying over?”

  “Yeah, I’ve booked a room at The Andreas,” I inform him.

  Then finally, he gives me the look of warning. “It pains me to say this, but you better use protection. I’ll chop it off if you impregnate my daughter.”

  I let out a burst of awkward laughter. “I don’t have a death wish.”

  ARIA

  We all gather around as Professor Neel goes to stand by a veiled piece. “Thank you for joining us tonight to celebrate our future artists,” he begins the speech.

  Dad wraps his arm around my shoulders, and Mom takes hold of my hand.

  Professor Neel talks about the history of the gallery, then he gestures to the veiled painting, saying, “I’m honored to have this talented student in my class.”

  I glance at my painting where it’s hanging on the wall, and even though I’m not the winner, it still fills me with pride to have it on display tonight.

  “This young artist captured the meaning of life.”

  I turn my attention back to Professor Neel. He pulls the cloth off the canvas, and then goosebumps rush over my body.

  I lift my hand to my mouth as the surprise stuns me. It’s the painting of my memories with Forest. I didn’t enter it, and Professor Neel must’ve taken it from my easel.

  “Miss Chargill, can you join me, please?” Professor Neel asks.

  “My baby won,” I hear Daddy murmur as I move to the front. When I go to stand next to my painting, I glance at my parents, and the pride on their faces is all the reward I need.

  M
y gaze moves to Forest, and his proud smile fills me with warmth.

  “Can you tell us what inspired this piece?” Professor Neel asks.

  I clear my throat, and my eyes lock on Forest. “My best friend. I wanted to immortalize our memories on canvas.”

  I know we have to talk at some point, but standing in front of the elevator as we leave the gallery, my heart is stuck in my throat, and my stomach buzzes with nervous energy. Dad and Mom left before the cocktail party so they could get back to Ojai Valley.

  It’s just Forest and me now. I still have no idea how I’m going to tell him about Eli. It fills me with shame, just thinking about what happened.

  I’ll just have to push through once we get to the hotel. Like Carla said, I have nothing to lose.

  The past week has been unbearable. I’ve missed Forest terribly, and I hate that everything is so messed up between us.

  The doors slide open, and Forest places his hand on my lower back as I move forward. When the doors shut, we stand right next to each other, our sides touching.

  I’m overly aware of him, his scent, his breathing… every single thing.

  Even though things are a mess between us, he still came tonight.

  The elevator slows to stop on the ninth floor, and as the doors begin to open, I feel a slight jiggle. Before I can comment about it, the jiggle grows to a full-blown tremor. A rumbling noise fills the air, and with a panicked shriek, I lose my balance. Forest grabs hold of my arm, and as he takes a step forward, the elevator suddenly plunges, yanking a frightened scream from me.

  I can hear cords snapping, and we lurch before dropping faster. A sharp beeping sound begins to resound around us.

  “Christ!” Forest hauls me against his body as the shaking forces him to stumble backward. We slam against a panel then tumble to the floor.

  Hollow sounds, as if metal is grinding against metal, make terror ripple through me in icy waves.

  The elevator yanks to a stop, and for a moment, we’re suspended in the air. The frightening sensation rips a shriek from me before we’re slammed back to the floor.

  I bump my forehead against Forest’s shoulder, but his body cushions my fall. I let out a disorientated groan while everything around us keeps quaking.