by Shealy James
The way it all connected and flowed was beautiful. The colors were vibrant and eye-catching, and I imagined just as meaningful. “It’s all beautiful,” I told him honestly.
“Thank you. I went to art school with Jed, the guy who does all of my work.”
“You didn’t draw it yourself? The angel in particular looks like your work?”
“Yeah. I drew some of what I wanted then he creates the stencil.”
“Hmm,” I said as I continued to trace the intricate patterns on his arm.
After a few moments, he whispered, “You’re killing me, Duchess.”
I looked up to see his dark eyes watching me carefully. That look spoke volumes to me, and I couldn’t help but lift myself up so I could kiss him. That galvanized us again, and we spent the next several hours wrapped up in each other. No more words were spoken, other than the occasional sighing of one another’s names.
Our amazing weekend was forced to end when Maverick had a meeting with someone interested in hiring him to paint a ceiling mural at a hotel. He told me he had painted one in an LA property and another in DC, so when the designer he had worked with before called him, he couldn’t say no to the meeting with the hotel owner early Monday morning.
As much as I wanted our weekend to go on forever, I needed a reprieve. I had two articles to finish and required time to get my head on straight. Of course, all I did was think about him, so it took me twice as long to get my interview with the chef written up. Just as I finished it, my phone started ringing. I jumped up, hoping it was the man consuming my thoughts, but it was just Penelope.
“Oh, good. You aren’t dead,” she said sarcastically. She wasn’t really worried. She was probably more annoyed than anything. I had been ignoring everyone’s calls and texts over the last week. I didn’t want my old life ruining the time I had with Maverick, and Penelope and Victoria were just as much a part of my old life as my parents were.
“Very funny, Pen. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on? How can you ask me that? You tell me what’s been going on with you.”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah, right. Spill it, Kitty!”
“I met someone,” I said, trying and possibly failing to keep the teenage girl excitement out of my voice.
“Oh! I should have known. Who is he? What does he do? Did your parents introduce you?”
“His name is Adam. He’s a painter and owns his own business, and no, my parents know nothing about him.”
“A painter? Kitty…” I could hear the disapproval laced in her voice. At least I didn’t tell her what kind of business he owned. It wouldn’t matter if he ran the most successful bar in the world; the fact he owned a bar would be points against him in Pen’s mind.
“He’s amazing,” I gushed.
“Amazing in bed or in life? You know your parents would never go for this.” Ugh. Penelope was always the voice of reason.
“Who cares about my parents? They aren’t dating him.” Who was this girl I was becoming? I liked her.
“Oh, shit. You slept with him. He must be damn good if you’re willing to ignore your parents for him.”
“First of all, ‘damn good’ doesn’t even begin to describe him. Second, my parents need to worry about themselves. I’m done being their little pawn.” At least for the rest of the month, I thought sadly.
“Okay, Kitty…calm down. So, tell me about ‘damn good doesn’t begin to describe him.’ And when can I meet him?”
“Adam’s everything. He’s the fantasy, Pen.”
“Wow. You sound like you have it bad. No wonder I haven’t heard from you in over a week.”
I tapped my pen against the table while I stared at the swirls on my computer’s screensaver. “Yes, I’ve been a little busy,” I confirmed, thinking of how I’ve been busy with Maverick. I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on my face any more than I could stop the warmth spreading inside my gut.
I almost didn’t hear Penelope when she said, “Well, you missed the fundraiser this weekend. I was surprised to see your parents there minus one gorgeous blonde and whichever man they tried to set you up with this time.”
I frowned, thinking about my parents and the long line of men they were probably anxious for me to meet. “Sorry. I was with Adam. I haven’t spoken to my parents. Somehow that fundraiser just slipped my mind.”
“I’m sure you were distracted. Well, let me tell you. Victoria came with that guy she used to date with the glasses.” I could imagine her waving her hand in the air while she spoke.
“Sam?”
“Yeah. That guy.”
“Really? I thought she said she couldn’t stand him even though he was the nicest guy she has ever dated.” I was surprised. Victoria was looking for a man with money, not a nice guy.
“She’s getting desperate. Her parents are threatening to cut her off.”
“Hmm.” I knew the feeling. “Who did you take?”
“Lewis. I know, I know. Don’t say it!”
“Pen!” I groaned and threw my pen down. “I don’t care how big his bank account is. The guy’s a jerk and has absolutely no redeeming qualities.”
“I know, but I cannot stay away. Maybe I’m a masochist.”
“You’d have to be,” I agreed.
“Moving on. The real reason I’m calling is to see if you’re still attending the Literacy Lunch tomorrow. My mother would really like for you to be there, and this is one of those causes you actually care something about.”
I pulled up my calendar and looked at all the events I had missed or had forgotten. Wednesday dinner, Thursday cocktails, Saturday party at a billion dollar mansion. None of it sounded appealing. “I don’t know.” I had another article to write, and Maverick was usually available during the day. I would rather spend time with him than with some stuffy old ladies who spend thousands of dollars on a lunch just to show off their Chanel and tell us younger women everything we’re doing wrong.
“Come on, Kitty. You can’t stop showing up to everything because you have a new man. What would your mother think?”
That was all I needed to hear to make my decision. “That’s just the thing. I don’t care anymore.”
“Ugh! What happened to you?”
“Nothing,” I insisted. I wasn’t about to tell one of my gold-digging friends that I might be homeless in less than three weeks. “Look, I have to go. I’ll probably see you Wednesday at the dinner.”
“Fine. Think about tomorrow.”
“I will. Bye.” I hung up quickly before she could guilt trip me anymore.
My phone rang almost immediately after I set it down. This time my heart pounded excitedly when I saw Maverick’s name and our mural selfie flash onto my screen.
“Hey, handsome.”
“It’s been hours, and I’m missing you. Please tell me you’re done writing.” I could hear the clanking of glasses and knew right away he was at the bar.
“Sorry. I only finished one article.”
“How about you work fast, and I bring you dinner in an hour?”
“What about the bar?”
“Closed Mondays. Inventory is done, and Corbin’s taking care of the rest. He’s the manager, after all. It’s time he starts acting like it.” I could tell Maverick was joking even though his words sounded harsh.
“Tell Corbin I said hello.”
He pulled the phone away. “She says that you need to do your job, douchebag.” I heard Corbin’s voice say something I couldn’t make out. “Fuck off,” Maverick responded to him. “Sorry, Duchess. I have to whip him into shape. So, dinner?”
I couldn’t say no, so an hour later the knock on my door was a welcome distraction from the article that wasn’t being written.
“Thai,” he said by way of greeting as he held up the takeout bags and walked past me into my kitchen.
“That’s it?”
“Oh no, Duchess. I was just dropping the food off.” He came back over to me and lifted me by my rear.
My legs wrapped around him as he kissed me like we hadn’t seen each other for months. “Man, I missed you today.”
“Missed me or missed being in bed with me?”
“Am I a jackass for saying both?” he asked seriously.
I shook my head. “No. I feel exactly the same,” I told him with a quick kiss on his lips. “What did you bring me to eat? Smells delicious.” He set me down and started pulling boxes out of the bags while I grabbed my Vera Wang plates and silverware.
As we ate a meal of fattening delicious noodles sitting in front of my wonderfully remote-controlled gas fireplace, he told me about his meeting. “I have to come up with a few designs by next week. This project is moving fast because they want the space available for weddings and events before the end of the year.”
“How long will it take?”
“Once we actually get to the painting phase, it will take a few months. There’s more than one artist involved. They asked me to do angels.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“We’ll see if they like what I come up with for the space.”
“I’m sure they will. Your work is incredible.”
He leaned over to give me a quick kiss. “Thank you, Duchess. I’m glad you think so. Tell me about your day.”
This conversation was so normal, yet I’d never had this experience with another man. My father never asked my mother about her day, and I certainly had never dated anyone who cared enough to ask me, either. My feelings for Maverick were quickly escalating beyond my control, and I was beginning to worry that perhaps I did mean more to him as well. Even so, I couldn’t stop what was happening between us if I tried. It was like trying to stop a freight train with dental floss. That didn’t mean I wasn’t dreading the end that I knew would eventually come; it just meant that I had to live in the moment, knowing one day I’d want to remember how this felt.
“Hey, where’d you go?” He gently touched my cheek when I still hadn’t answered.
“Sorry. I was thinking. I almost forgot. I have to go to this thing on Wednesday. It’s a dinner and auction for children’s cancer research, and I’m on the planning committee. I’d like for you to come with me.” I felt nervous. What if these kinds of events weren’t something Maverick was willing to attend? What if he didn’t want to put on a suit and stand around while people threw their money at expensive wines and vacations?
“Yeah?”
“I know you have the bar to run, but…” I didn’t get a chance to finish, not that I knew what I was going to say to convince him anyway.
“I’ll go. Corbin can manage the bar without me. It’s no problem.”
“Really?”
“You thought I’d say no?” he asked, seeming genuinely surprised.
“Well, yeah.”
This time when he kissed me, he pulled me onto his lap and slowly pressed his lips to mine. “All you have to do is ask.”
And I melted. Katherine Peters melts. I was a puddle on the floor. His soft kiss turned into something else entirely, and before I knew it, we were on the floor in front of the fire completely naked and wrapped in each other.
***
The night of the dinner came quickly enough. I dressed in a silk champagne cocktail dress with a fitted bodice and sweetheart neckline. It gave my chest the boost it needed, making me feel very sexy indeed. I wanted the dress to be a surprise for Maverick, so I slid my coat on before I answered the door.
The sight at the door took my breath away. I had seen many men in suits. I had seen a lot of good-looking men in suits. I had seen famous men in suits, businessmen in suits, even models in suits, but none of them compared to the man standing in my doorway watching me take him in with that damn smirk on his face.
“I take it you like what you see, Duchess?” Liked what I saw? Hell, there weren’t words to describe what I was feeling.
“You have no idea, Maverick.” I wanted to strip him down and lock him away. The girls were going to be all over him looking like that.
“I think I do,” he whispered against my neck.
“We better go.” He nodded and led me downstairs where I had a car waiting to take us to the dinner.
If I thought I felt good looking in the mirror, it was nothing compared to how I felt once Maverick helped me remove my coat and handed it to the girl at the coat check. Once the heavy fabric slid from my shoulders, he gasped. My hair was pinned into a loose twist that left my neck and back bare.
“Duchess, what are you trying to do to me?” He pressed his erection into my backside, showing me exactly what I was doing to him. “Trying to get me arrested for public indecency?”
I laughed a little. “Let’s get this over with, then you can be as indecent as you want with me in private.”
He took my hand and led me into the ballroom that was already filling with guests. We grabbed champagne from a passing waiter as I greeted acquaintances and introduced them to Maverick. Surprisingly, he knew some of them, and what was even better was that they knew of him and his art. I was so proud to be on his arm.
It wasn’t long before I caught Penelope’s eye, and the open jaw moment of shock that graced her sweet little face was priceless. Yes, she had gotten a glimpse of Maverick while she stood across the room with Lewis and his protruding belly and double chin. I pressed myself closer into Maverick’s side and smiled widely at her gaping mouth.
Victoria noticed her expression and searched the room for what Pen was staring at so intently. I knew the moment Victoria saw me because she smiled. The smile quickly fell when she saw the man gripping my waist and planting a sweet kiss to my temple. Victoria and Penelope wore matching expressions of shock as I approached them. Where Penelope’s was a look of surprise that I had found such a delicious man, I was fairly certain Victoria’s look was born of jealousy.
After I introduced Maverick to my so-called friends, Victoria wasted no time in pushing Sam off her and turning to flirt with my Maverick.
“So, you must be the famous Adam?” she asked as she sidled up next to him, leaving Sam, her date, behind her. Sam was speaking with another couple that I recognized as the CEO of the children’s hospital and his wife. He nodded a greeting toward me but continued his conversation as his date came to harass mine.
“I don’t know about being famous, but yes, I’m Adam.” He held out his hand to greet her.
Victoria slid her manicured hands into his. I saw her stick her chest out slightly and lean further into him. “Victoria Templeton.” She looked at me and scolded, “You didn’t tell Penelope how gorgeous he is.” She didn’t wait for me to acknowledge her before turning back to him. “And you’re a painter? Is it true what they say about artists?”
“What is it they say about artists?” he asked while discreetly sliding behind me, so I was between him and Victoria.
“Kitty,” a voice that could ruin my night cut through the conversation. I turned to find my mother staring back at me. “Who’s your friend?” she asked as she too stared at Maverick.
“Adam, this is my mother, Violet Peters. Mother, this is Adam Vaughn.” I said nothing more. I didn’t want to call him my boyfriend for the first time to my mother, the saboteur, but I didn’t want to insult Maverick by calling him my friend. He was so much more than a friend.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Peters.”
“You as well, Mr. Vaughn. How do you and Kitty know each other?”
I felt Maverick tense when my mother called me Kitty. I had told him how much I hated it one night in bed. “The cat jokes are ridiculous,” I had said. “Cat got your tongue, Kitty? Or how about telling me to keep my claws in when I get mad? And I loathe being called the p-word.”
“I can imagine,” he had agreed. Then he added, “There’s only a few times when it’s okay to use the p-word.”
“Really? I can’t think of any.”
“Hmm…I can think of a few things I’d like to do with your ‘p-word’ right now.”
“That sounds like a good plan.”
“Good time to use the p-word?” he asked.
“Only if you can follow through.”
“You know I can,” he confirmed. And he had. He did amazing things to make my “p-word” feel good that night.
Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that, though. Maverick was attempting to converse with my suspicious mother, and there I was, thinking about the p-word. Thankfully, Maverick was unaware of my wayward thoughts. He told my mother, “Katherine and I met at a coffee shop then ran into each other at Blythe Withers’ art show.”
“Oh? You know Blythe?”
“Yes, we’ve worked together before.”
“Is that right?” my mother said, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. “Are you also an artist, Mr. Vaughn?”
“I am, yes. A painter.”
“Impressive,” she said, even though I knew she was anything but impressed. My mother had been a ballerina before she met my father, so you would think she’d have an appreciation for artists. She had an appreciation for art, but artists were unstable and unpredictable in her mind. Needless to say, an artist was not someone she would allow me to date if it were up to her, but right then, she knew her opinion didn’t matter. I watched her press her lips together to physically keep her mouth shut.
“Thank you,” Maverick said politely, obviously not reading my mother the way I had. I was thankful he didn’t know her better. The last thing I wanted was for my mother to make him feel inferior in any way. If anything, we were the mediocre ones, not Maverick.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I see some friends I’d like to catch up with. Nice to meet you, Mr. Vaughn.”
“You too, Mrs. Peters.” Maverick nodded as she walked away. “That wasn’t so bad,” he said once she was gone.
“Yeah,” I agreed, knowing it was only the calm before the storm.
My parents practically ignored me for the rest of the evening. My father never once glanced my way. I did catch my mother watching me a few times, but she would look away quickly if our eyes met. It was strange, to say the least, but fairly easy to ignore them, considering it was a sit-down, five-course dinner. Thankfully, we were assigned to different tables. Besides the discomfort they dished out on a daily basis, I wouldn’t have wanted either of my parents to witness the teasing game Maverick and I were playing under the tablecloth throughout all five courses. After what seemed like hours of foreplay, Maverick and I left right after dessert, effectively allowing me to forget my mother’s odd behavior and my father’s dismissal.