Draw Me In

by Megan Squires

  “So you lived in the states too?”

  Sofia shook her head. “No. I was still in Switzerland then.”

  Switzerland? I’d taken her for an Italian with the accent and the fact that we were actually in Italy. Why hadn’t those ginormous Alps kept her away?

  “It was a long distance relationship. Which was hard.”

  I could only imagine. I had a hard enough time maintaining relationships within my own zip code.

  “We dated for six years. When Leo called it off, it was long overdue. I’d ruined things well before that.”

  That demanded some clarification. “How’d you ruin things?”

  “I cheated.”

  My hand flew up to face level like I was a marionette, controlled by some other force. It begged to slap her, which took me by surprise because I was usually more of a make love not war type of person. But the thought of someone cheating on a person like Leo apparently made me react in ways I wasn’t used to. I couldn’t imagine breaking that man’s heart. All I’d wanted from the moment I saw him was to own just a little piece of it.

  “You cheated on Leo?” I dropped my hand back to my side and slid it into my pocket, scolding it as I balled it tightly into a fist. Blood pumped through my clenched fingers, itching them.

  “Life can be hard. And sometimes relationships require more work than you are able to give.” I guessed so, but that quite honestly just sounded like a cop-out. “Leo is more complex than most people think. He’s hard to get to know, Julie. Even after six years, I felt like we still had so much to learn about one another.”

  I forced my hand to relax as I channeled the anger away from it. “To me, that honestly doesn’t sound like a problem.” I wiggled my fingers out, shaking them loose, trying to gain control over my body again. It was mine, but why did I feel like someone else right now? “I think the problem would actually occur when you realized there was nothing new left to discover.”

  Sofia shrugged indifferently, much like how I assumed she acted during their relationship. I could totally see the Swiss in her now. She had that noncommittal neutrality of Switzerland written all over her.

  “For whatever reason,” she began, now face to face with me. All of the makeup was tucked back into the bags and she had no other physical task to distract her from our conversation. “I cheated. After four years, I couldn’t do it anymore.”

  “But I thought you were together for six.”

  “We were.” Sofia’s doe-like eyes widened around the rims and her mouth fell into a frown. She looked like some tragic porcelain doll. “One thing I did learn early on about Leo is that he’s incredibly quick to forgive. I think it’s honestly one of his only faults.”

  I could not understand how forgiveness could be construed as a fault, no matter how you tried to twist it. Wasn’t that the one thing that made us different from animals? That we could forgive? Or maybe that was it was the opposable thumbs. Whatever. Forgiveness was essential to humankind, I was sure of it.

  “He’s trusting, and he’s forgiving.” Two of the greatest qualities a person could possess if you asked me. “So he forgave me when I came crawling back to him. For two years, we pretended everything was okay.” Sofia leaned back and pressed her weight onto the bathroom counter, her fingers curling around the lipped edge of the stone. I thought she could cry. “He proposed six months later, but even the jewel on my finger couldn’t cover up what I’d done. It didn’t change things.”

  Maybe not that jewel, but this one definitely could.

  “I’ve only seen him with you a couple of times, but I can already say with certainty that I’ve never been on the receiving end of a look like the ones he gives you, Julie.” I really, really wanted to shout Booyah! at her, but that felt a little callous, so I only nodded sympathetically. “He’s been ready to love again for a while. You just might get to be the lucky girl he gives his heart to.”

  “I’m going to have to disagree with you there.” Dammit, my hands itched again. Sofia was going to make me a fighter before day’s end and I couldn’t have any of that.

  Break dance, not hearts. Make friends, not foes. I repeated my favorite peacekeeping mantras in order to center myself and remind my head and heart where my roots were.

  “What is there to disagree with?”

  Pick flowers, not fights. Drop beats, not bombs. “With the assumption that there is any amount of luck involved.” I wasn’t about to discredit what was starting between Leo and me by calling it something as unsure as luck. It was deeper than that. Possibly fate. Maybe destiny. But certainly not luck. “I don’t believe in luck.”

  Shrugging, Sofia pushed off from the vanity and folded her slender arms across her chest. “Well, you have to believe in something for a relationship to work. That much I know.”

  “I do.” I bound my own arms over my body and smiled. Sofia wasn’t the bad guy. If anything, I should be thanking her for breaking Leo’s heart, because without doing so, I’d never have the chance to be the one to hold it, even if it was shattered and I had to collect the pieces. “I believe in Leo.”

  “I did once too.” Upon a soft clearing of her throat, she added, almost as an afterthought, but with enough weight that it couldn’t be ignored, “But it’s hard to believe in someone when they don’t even believe in themselves.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “I miss you too. Of course, everyday.”

  Ian had his back to me, but it was obvious Joshua was on the other line, the one receiving the gift of his words. Those little lovebirds were so precious. I would be sure not to go near them with any slingshots, given my recent unlucky history with winged creatures.

  “Jules!” Swiping his finger across the keypad, Ian hung up with Joshua and slipped the phone into his back pocket. “Looking good, Love.”

  “Why, thank you. This is all compliments of Sofia.” I waved a hand across my face. “And while she was giving me a makeover, she gave me a little information on her relationship with Leo.”

  “And?” Tapping his foot in a way that demanded my answer, Ian widened his eyes.

  “She cheated on him.”

  “Wench.”

  My thoughts exactly, though I hadn’t articulated them yet. “Leo’s hard to get to know apparently. Which isn’t really a huge surprise. He’s definitely quieter and more reserved than any other guy I’ve been interested in. Makes me wonder if maybe he’s keeping something.”

  Ian had his camera bag slung across his body, and he swung it forward on his hip to pull out his camera from within it. As he unscrewed the lens cap, he continued talking. “I don’t think that’s necessarily the case. People can be withdrawn for lots of reasons. I wouldn’t go to the worst case scenario right away.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “That he’s an Italian mob ring leader and brought us here to murder us and dump our bodies in the Po.”

  Ian angled his camera my direction, snapped a quick shot, and then fiddled with the settings on the back to adjust the exposure, unsatisfied.

  “Pretty sure that’s not the case,” I laughed. “I just can’t figure him out.”

  “And why do you think that’s your job?” He dropped the lens from his eye and surveyed me up and down. I shrugged. I didn’t know why, honestly. It felt like my job. “Listen. I’ve lived with you for the past three years and I have yet to figure you out, Missy. People are evolving. We change. We adapt. We mold and bend. I don’t think you’re going to have Leo all summed up after, what? A week of knowing him?”

  What he was saying wasn’t too far from what I’d told Sofia back in the bathroom. And in truth, I didn’t want to figure Leo all out. But I did want more. Maybe that was a good thing. When I really thought about it, this was the exciting point in a relationship. That phase of discovery and exploration. And I was ready to explore Leo like I was Magellan setting sail on another voyage to circumnavigate the earth. Anchor’s aweigh!

  “Take things slow, Jules. There is no need to rush when
it comes to matters of the heart.”

  “Oh wow.” Just as I said that, Ian snapped another photograph. That one was surely a keeper. “Look at you getting all philosophically romantic.”

  Ian smiled and rapid fired about ten more shots. “Italy has that affect on me. Makes me all mushy.”

  “Me too.”

  “Are we ready?” Leo’s voice startled me, even though I’d been expecting him. And I should have expected him to look amazing as usual, but the crisp, collared shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbows and the thinly lined, tan corduroys were more than I’d bargained for. This was the most Italian I’d ever seen him, and he wore it unbelievably well.

  Trading his 50mm lens for one about the size of his arm, Ian nodded. “Sure are.” After he fit it to the camera, he fluttered a hand toward us, almost as if to shoo us away. “I’ve got my sniper lens on, so I’m going to shoot you from quite a distance.”

  I suddenly felt like we were being hunted. Which, in fairness, I did once call Leo a piece of meat, so it wasn’t entirely off base to feel this way.

  “You won’t even notice I’m here, which is exactly the point. The editor said she wants lifestyle images, not the typical posed ones for this section of the spread.”

  “Works for me.”

  “Me too,” I smiled in agreement. “Like, I literally work for you.”

  Wow, I was nervous.

  “Good one.” Leo gave it to me.

  “Not really. That one was stupid.”

  Dismissing my self-critique with a smile, Leo threaded his fingers into mine and pulled me with him down the closest row of vines. They were tall and rose up to about my shoulders. Their green leaves stretched out in star-like bursts of color and I could see the beginning buds of grapes dotting each plant like from the flick of a painter’s brush.

  “Here. Let’s head down this way.”

  I followed upon his heels and could hear the click, click, click of Ian’s shutter back up on the Villa’s patio. Great. He was getting some fabulous shots of my rear, and Sofia hadn’t helped me at all to get that part ready. I know I had a drunken rant about the need for more asses in art, but I wasn’t referring to my own. That one should steer clear of the limelight.

  “So I had a little chat with Sofia this morning.” If we were supposed to be casual, might as well start in on the casual conversation.

  “And?” Leo didn’t turn back to look at me. “What did she have to say?”

  “That she cheated on you.”

  There was a slight tug in his grip on my hand, but Leo recovered quickly. “True.”

  If he was going to answer in one-word sentences, it would be years before we broke the ice. It was practically like there were Titanic-sinking glaciers between us.

  “And that you are impossible to get to know.”

  “Impossible? Really?” There was a questioning lilt to his voice. “That’s what she said?”

  I thought back. “No, maybe not impossible. But very hard to read.”

  Leo’s thumb rubbed in a circular motion against the back of my hand, gently stroking it as he spoke. “I’m not an open book, if that’s what you’re asking, Julie.”

  Maybe it was. I supposed I was asking something with that, but I didn’t know quite what. I think I just wanted to see what kind of information he might offer up on his own.

  “But I’m not completely closed, either. I just like to choose who gets to read me.”

  Well, if he was a book, I wanted to pore over him like I was studying for the Bar exam. I’d even purchase the braille version, just so I had an excuse to run my fingers all over it and feel him up.

  “I’m usually extremely cautious. Which I think is why I’m good at what I do. It takes a certain prudence to make it in this market.”

  We’d stopped walking now, and I couldn’t even see Ian any longer. Couldn’t hear the clicking of his camera. We were alone. Just Leo and me, under the Tuscan sky. Oh my word, at what point had my life become a chick flick movie?

  Leo kept talking. “But when it comes to relationships, I want you to know I consider myself off that market.”

  “Because of me?” My voice cracked.

  “Yes.” His thumb squeezed into my hand. “Because of you.”

  Flipping toward me, Leo pressed his lips to my forehead, pushing their fullness onto my skin.

  “Can I ask you something?” I peered up at him. He was still close to me, his mouth hovering just over my brow.

  “Sure.” I felt the breathy heat of his syllables on my face.

  “You said you’re like David. That bit about the battle.” He nodded. “What did you mean?”

  Leo’s eyes hit straight into mine. I couldn’t imagine Ian’s lens would be able to reach this far, but I sure hoped it could. That look deserved to be caught on camera. It was breathtaking. Open and real. I wanted to capture it and keep it forever.

  “You know when people die from cancer, they always say ‘So-and-so lost their four-year-long battle with cancer on such-and-such date’?”

  I nodded. That did seem like it was the go-to obituary for that disease.

  “Well, my mom hated that phrase. ‘How dare they say I’ve lost the battle?’ is what she would always tell me. ‘Each day that I survived, I won.’ To her, dying didn’t mean losing. It just meant that you didn’t have to fight anymore.”

  Oh hell, I wanted to kiss him. So I decided I would. I straightened my spine, angled my face, and lifted my mouth to his. I waited a breath before succumbing to his lips, and in that pause Leo’s eyes flickered wildly over mine—from my eyes down to my mouth, back up to my eyes again.

  “Well,” he smirked, the corner of his mouth tugged upward, knowing full well what I planned to do. “What are you waiting for?”

  Absolutely nothing.

  I pressed my mouth onto Leo’s and it was like actually kissing him clued me in on so much more about this man. The way he curled his fingers into my hair, cradling the back of my head softly with his palm, showed me how gentle and cautious he was. The way his tongue pressed at the edge of my lips, almost asking permission to enter my mouth, hinted at a control and a thoughtfulness most men didn’t possess. Even the way he would open his eyes for a brief moment, just long enough to catch my own, reflected his overwhelming intensity.

  I was wrong in thinking you only got to know someone through conversations and words strung together. I knew the power of a kiss. The way your soul spoke through it. And right now, Leo’s was communicating so loudly with mine.

  That ten second kiss felt just like fast-forwarding ten years.

  “Thank you,” I whispered as I slid back down onto my feet and back down to earth.

  Cupping his hand under my jaw, Leo asked, “For what?”

  “That.” I circled an arm out and twisted at the waist. “This.” The vineyard sprawled around us. “Giving me a chance not only as an employee, but in a relationship.”

  “If I’m being completely honest,” he started, grinning from ear to ear. It was devilish enough that I could tell his intentions weren’t completely pure. “I actually hired you so you would give me a chance.”

  “I thought you said you couldn’t imagine anyone else creating the label!” I squawked, slugging him in the broad dip of his chest. “That my talents were second to none!”

  “Well, that’s true. I can’t and they are.” Leo slipped his hands out and dropped them onto my hips, immediately shooting waves of heat throughout my body. My chest felt heavy, my cheeks were set on fire. Cocking a brow and bending down to bring his face level with mine, he muttered behind a coy grin, “Looks like you’re not the only one to kill two birds with one stone now, huh?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  He’d been staring at me for the past three hours, and I’d been staring down at the blank notepad draped across my lap for just as long. Reno (as I’d recently nicknamed him) did a superb job with the whole not moving thing, but unfortunately I was also doing the same. Every time I tried to shape
his brow or shade his jaw, it all came out distorted and surreal. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t recreate his likeness. So I just sat there, hoping my pencil would magically come to life and dance across my paper in a graphite trail. Evidently, things like that only happened in Disney movies.

  “Work with me, Reno.” I tossed the paper to the bed and slipped the pencil behind my ear, groaning. “I thought we had a good thing going on here.”

  Maybe if I felt his form under my fingertips, then I’d be able to transfer that feeling onto the paper, too. That always worked in the past. I came up to his side, closed my eyes, and pulled a finger down the slope of his cheek. Then across his chin, over his mouth, and onto the other cheek. With both thumbs, I pressed into his eye sockets, gauging the depth of them, feeling how far set back they were. This was entirely different from the incident the other night, though I’m sure it looked alarmingly similar. Once again, I still had my guilty hands all over an innocent statue.

  Which was why Leo gasped when he saw me.

  Why hadn’t I learned to lock that door?

  “Not again. Seriously?” His hand flew to his face to cloak his eyes.

  “What’s with the not knocking?” I didn’t look at him, but yanked the sketchpad from the mattress and began scribbling from the memory held within my fingers. First Reno’s hair: the strands tucked neatly back into a low ponytail at the base of his skull. Then the outline of his face: broad lines that accentuated his cheekbones and sharp bone structure. I shadowed and shaded as Leo walked over. He peered from behind me, stooping down to watch me work.

  “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?” Taking the moist pad of my index finger, I smudged the graphite into the fibers, deepening the prominent ridge of his brow with darker lines. Things were taking shape.

  “Make something from nothing.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not that hard. You do the same thing with wine.”

  “Technically,” Leo slid onto the bed to sit beside me. He tucked one leg up underneath him and leaned forward. It was like he was trying to relax, but something within him remained tense with rigidity, unwilling to give or slink into himself. “But we make wine from grapes.”