“But she’s wrong. You certainly have what it takes.” Wyatt was visibly angry on Keeli’s behalf.
“Not according to her. She says I don’t have the talent, the experience. I especially love when she tells me she is my mother and just being honest with me since no one else will be. That one really hurts.”
“That is just cruel.”
“But effective. Whenever I talk to her, for the rest of the day I believe I should just give up and go home. But I get over it, make more jewelry and start again. I am not going home just so she can have her way. I am not working the farm, being a waitress, and watching the boys play video games and pool on the weekends. I did that to pay for my education, and now I plan to use it. I am a damn good jewelry designer.” Keeli had worked herself up as she spoke.
“Yes you are.” Wyatt spoke calmly and authoritatively, bringing Keeli back from her ledge.
“I miss hanging with my brothers. We had some raucous times that were really fun. And they did spoil me since I was the only girl. That was nice too. But going back now would mean I was a failure and that is just not happening.”
“I am sad that you don’t have the support of your family,” Wyatt sympathized. “I know how awful that feels, believe me.”
“You know, I had convinced myself I had something special. When I was in high school my art teachers were really encouraging, and my design teachers in college were too. Promise you won’t laugh. This is such a cliché.” Keeli looked over at Wyatt expectantly and he nodded his assent. “Against the advice of all my friends and my mom, of course, I hopped on a bus to Chicago with $400 in my pocket, my jewelers tools and two changes of clothes in a backpack. I knew no one and I had no job. Looking back now, I know I was an idiot.”
“But look how far you have come. Maybe you were not so idiotic?”
“Enough. Maybe we should change the subject?”
“If you like.”
“But you know,” she continued despite wanting to move on,” you would have liked my dad and I think he would have liked you too. He spent my whole childhood telling me I could be anything I wanted when I grew up. He told me I could be president and I believed him. My mom thinks small. She has been in Gilman her whole life. Not my dad though, he saw more of the world. He made me believe I could have the world.”
“He really sounds like the kind of dad I wish I had. Both of my parents are overprotective. Everything is family, family business, family loyalty, family name.”
“I am sure they love you and want the best for you. And they must be so proud.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Wyatt stated as he pulled in front of the hotel. The doorman sprang forward to help Keeli from the car, “They gave me everything.”
By necessity, the conversation shifted to check-in information and baggage discussions before Wyatt handed the keys to the valet and the bellman led them into the grand lobby. Keeli spun around to admire the high ceilings gilded with gold, the quiet luxury of the oriental carpets and charm of large wooden furniture. While Wyatt dealt with registration, Keeli admired the artwork scattered along every wall and poked her nose into the leather and wood restaurant.
“We are on the club level, but we can have breakfast here in the morning if you prefer?”
“No, upstairs is fine, I guess,” Keeli only vaguely understood what it meant to be on club level, but assumed from Wyatt’s words that it came with breakfast.
“Want a nightcap, or just to head up? We can get drinks up there too, if you prefer.”
It was obvious to Keeli that Wyatt was accustomed to club levels and old, luxury hotels but it was all new and overwhelming for her.
“What about our bags?” She was clearly confused.
“What about them? The bellman took them up.” Wyatt did not even seem to understand Keeli’s question. Then, understanding crept into his face. “Oh, yeah, I have the key to the room. So we can choose. If you want to stay down here we can sit in the bar or we can grab a glass of wine or a beer from the lounge on club level, admire the view from there, then take it to our room.” He was helping her get the lay of the land at last.
“Oh, I am exhausted and filthy, so how bout we just grab something upstairs?”
“Perfect.” Wyatt led her to the elevator, pressed the button for the 23rd floor, inserting his key to make it work, and then they were alone in the quiet of the elevator.
“You don’t look filthy to me. You look sexy. This makes me think of the first time I touched you,” he murmured as his lips descended on hers. He captured her mouth in a slow, searing kiss, leaning his body to trap hers against the wall of the cabin. She returned his kiss hungrily and they were caught up in the moment. It was a surprise when the doors opened on 23 much too soon.
“Damn, I hate a quick elevator,” Wyatt smirked at her and ran his index finger slowly along her bottom lip, already bruised with his kisses. “After you, Madame,” he bowed with a flourish before stepping back for her to precede him.
Following the signs to the Club lounge Keeli pulled open the double doors before Wyatt could assist. She walked straight across the room to admire the view of Milwaukee laid out before her. Wyatt stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close.
“Beautiful,” she breathed.
Yes,” he responded, turning her to look at him. He bent to suck her bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue along its wet warmth. She checked to assure that they were alone then gave in to the moment, wrapping her arms about his neck and moving as tightly against him as she could.
“Red or white?” he asked after a minute or two, adjusting the bulge in his trousers as he moved across the room to the bar. The plush carpeting absorbed his footfalls and she followed, the toe of her Keds catching in the deep nap. Falling forward, she reached to catch herself, but Wyatt was there before she could grab a nearby chair.
“Careful, Keeli!” he held her tight while she caught her breath after the narrow escape. “Maybe you are more tired than I realized?”
“No, I’m just not used to such thick carpeting.”
“We need to fix that.” Another cryptic response from Wyatt set Keeli’s heart racing. “Let’s grab a bottle of white. It will be light and crisp. We can take it to our room, okay?”
Nodding her agreement, Keeli reached for two glasses, Wyatt took the wine from the small refrigerator and they meandered their way to the room stopping along the way to kiss and embrace. Wyatt trailed hot kisses over her bare shoulder and the nape of her neck, shooting waves of longing straight to her core.
Pressing the small key card into the slot and getting the corresponding beep, Wyatt opened the door and flipped the light switch as Keeli moved into and around the luxurious suite. She wandered slowly, running her fingers over the beautiful wooden tables and four-poster bed, the suede sofas, the heavy fabrics of the curtains. Her beat-up bag was sitting on a chair in the corner beside a small bag in black leather that must have been Wyatt’s.
He packed so light, just one night I guess. Stop moping, Keeli, he is a very busy man who drove all the way to Milwaukee to spend one night with you.
“What are you smiling about?”
“I am just realizing how lucky I am to spend the night here with you rather than the Motel 6 with Clarice.”
“Is it the suite or the company that has you smiling?” Wyatt flashed her a cocky look, obviously fishing for compliments.
“Well, if I am being totally honest….” Wyatt tackled Keeli to the bed and started tickling her sides. She dissolved into a fit of giggles before shouting, “the company, it’s the company” until he relented.
After lowering himself to the bed for a few sultry kisses, Keeli begged for a quick shower and Wyatt let her up while he opened the wine and poured two glasses.
He left her to shower in peace. It had been a long day for them both and was now approaching midnight. When he heard her emerge from the shower, he knocked and entered the steamy room to find her swaddled in an overs
ized bath sheet, her hair piled in a mass of curls on her head, damp tendrils curling about her face.
“I wish I was an artist instead of a collector,” he mused. “I would paint you just like that, flushed with heat, hair damp, skin moist. You are so beautiful.”
“Don’t embarrass me, Wyatt. No one talks like that.” The blush rose in her already pink cheeks and a blissful smile widened her lips.
“Okay, no romantic stuff. How ‘bout instead we hit the mini bar and the bottle of wine I opened while I check the Cubs score? Is that unromantic enough for you?”
“That sounds perfect.” Keeli emerged from the bathroom, now wrapped in the hotel supplied terry robe that reached to her fingertips and was tightly belted, overlapping quite a distance around her tiny waist. She looked like a child playing dress-up and Wyatt could not help chuckling as he helped her roll the sleeves a bit.
She dropped exhausted to the bed, jostling the candy bars, nuts and chips that Wyatt had neatly arranged for her perusal. She selected a bag of potato chips and wolfed them down, followed by a deep drink of the crisp, cool wine.
“Should I order room service instead? Are you really hungry?” He was fiddling with the remote control, shifting through the available channels impatiently looking for the sports stations.
“Nope, this will do it. Thanks anyway. This is perfect and I am too tired to wait for room service.”
A huge yawn stretched Keeli’s mouth confirming her statement as she finished the chips and slipped her feet under the blankets. She ran her feet over the luxurious, cool sheets, and propped a pillow behind her back with a contented sigh.
Wyatt finally found the ball game, stopped channel surfing and swept the remaining food into his hands. He padded barefoot and silent, returning the uneaten food to the minibar. He peeled off his clothes, dropping them in a pile onto the corner chair and crawled in beside her in the large bed. He reached an arm behind her under the pillow grabbing both to pull her close for a long kiss. He was stopped by another large yawn from Keeli. She laughed in embarrassment as he settled for a kiss to her forehead.
“Okay, sleepyhead, what do you say we just cuddle and fall asleep? You have to get up in a few hours and do another long day’s work.”
“I’m so sorry, Wyatt, but I just can’t keep my eyes open. I really want to,” but her voice was already fading and she was snuggling into the blankets like a child.
Wyatt set an alarm, muted the TV and turned off the lights. Not his night to score it would seem. Lying in the dark a few minutes, he listened to Keeli’s quiet breathing before shutting off the television and wrapping himself around her sleeping form.
At least the Cubs scored tonight.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Clarice and Keeli were back in their booths setting up for a long day by 9:30. The weather promised to be perfect and they were well rested and very well fed. Clarice had told Keeli at least four times how impressed she was with Wyatt, how polite and generous he was, how thoughtful, and how incredibly hot.
“And I love the way he looks at you, girl, like you are the best thing he has ever seen.” Keeli had seen that look too, a cross between lascivious and loving. She basked in its glow. He really seemed to care about her and she knew she was falling hard.
Clarice had been working for a year to get Keeli to forget about Wyatt, reminding her that he was a player and that he was not going to give her a second glance. Now she was telling a different story, encouraging Keeli to go after this prize.
The feelings she and Wyatt shared were still new and fragile, but Keeli believed in them. She sensed real promise. When she confided those feelings to her friend, Clarice agreed. Keeli felt her hopes soar and her little warning voice go silent.
She was encouraged by the way he opened up to her about his work, his dreams and his family. She got the impression that he was telling her things he didn’t share with many people in his life. She counted herself as a member of his inner circle now, an intimate group, she knew, and she was grateful to be included.
He supported her dreams as well. He believed in her in ways even her own family didn’t, boosting her confidence and propelling her forward. This was of great significance to her because Wyatt was knowledgeable on the subject, he knew talent, so his good opinion held more weight.
She loved waking up close to him this morning; hated having to leave the cocoon of their beautiful suite. He was efficient moving her out the door for breakfast and the art show, lingering over kisses only a few times, especially when he told her that he would be leaving to head south around noon. She had hoped to have another night with him but he had business meetings this afternoon and family commitments tomorrow so she was graceful about letting him go.
He said his farewells earlier, but she knew that he had wandered off to explore the art fair, always in search of new talent. Her mind was lingering over the ease and comfort they experienced together, brushing their teeth side by side, getting coffee, getting dressed and out the door like they had lived together for years. He was easy, but exciting - the perfect combination – and she hungered to spend more time with him. She hoped he would stop by one last time before heading home although she knew not to expect it.
Instead, she focused her full attention on the festival, enjoying the interactions with customers and potential customers, explaining her techniques, helping people select just the right piece for their face, for that special occasion or for the perfect gift. The hours flew by and soon Clarice was bringing salads from one of the food stands.
“Just something to tide us over until later,” she explained. “I thought we could eat German food later, or at least bratwursts, and maybe listen to some music.”
“I am okay with staying here and eating brats,” Keeli agreed. The bands looked promising, the crowds were thick and engaging and once they were done working it would feel good to mingle and enjoy a little of the festival as observers, not exhibitors.
By 8:30, neither woman could stand any longer so they headed to the Motel 6 for the night. After last night’s luxury, Keeli was initially crabby about the lumpy bed and scratchy sheets but she enjoyed the time with Clarice, comparing stories from the day. Both women had enjoyed excellent sales. Clarice was particularly excited about a potential commission for several works to display in a corporate lobby. This was exactly the opportunity she had been longing for, and while she had no details yet, she was still giddy with possibilities.
Keeli was too sapped of energy to be appropriately thrilled for her friend, and she was disappointed by Wyatt’s silence. She had texted several times during the day, first to say ‘thank you’, then to ask if he arrived home safely, finally to say ‘good night’. No response to any of these. She tamped down her concern, hugged her dear friend good night, begging her forgiveness when she quickly turned out the lights and tried to fall asleep.
Tossing and turning for a short while, Keeli wondered why Wyatt never texted back, where he was tonight and who he was with. Finally, she gave in to her exhaustion and slept.
It seemed only minutes had passed when Clarice's phone blasted Motown music, waking Keeli from a deep sleep. Just thinking about another seven hours on her feet today, followed by breaking down the booth and the two-hour ride, Keeli was worn out.
Checking her phone, she was crushed to find nothing from Wyatt. She thought they were doing so well together, but insecurity bubbled up in her, leaving her unsettled and edgy as she donned her last clean sundress and her Keds, ran a brush through her unruly curls and pulled them back in a loose ponytail for the day. It promised to be hot and sunny, perfect for fair-goers but hot and sticky for her inside the tent.
By opening time at ten, Keeli had laid out everything she had left to sell, including her best, most expensive pieces and the small items she threw in at the last minute to assure she would not sell out. She had struggled to display them together, arranging and rearranging the items in the cases, never fully satisfied.
She knew the dissatisfacti
on was not about the display. She was anxious about Wyatt, checking her phone frequently. Her mood worsened as the day – and the silence – wore on.
By three, she was exhausted, her inventory was picked over and she went in search of Clarice, who agreed to closing up an hour early so they could beat the crowds. By six, they were on the road, stuck in traffic with all the weekenders returning to the city after a lovely retreat to Wisconsin. The two hour drive stretched ti well over three and Keeli’s nerves were shot by the time Clarice dropped her at home and helped her drag her trunks to the basement for storage.
They hugged each other goodbye and promising to talk tomorrow when both recovered from the long weekend. Keeli could not wait to eat and shower. She had planned to take a final stock and see how her weekend had gone, but instead fell to the sofa exhausted, deciding to leave the inventory review for tomorrow.
After shoveling in the leftovers from last night’s catering job, delicious appetizers and salmon, Keeli took a quick shower and wandered back to the empty living room with her hair dripping down. There was still nothing from Wyatt and Keeli was growing increasingly concerned. It was late enough for him to have finished dinner with his family hours ago. She decided to try texting him once more and was relieved to get a quick response.
‘Is anything wrong?’ she texted and within minutes he responded ‘all good, just busy.’
‘You home? I am. All good here too.’ She hesitated over her fingers. What to say next?
‘TTYL.’ That was all she got back and it took a few minutes for even that response. He must be busy, Keeli rationalized. She flipped on the TV randomly selected a program and pulled paperwork into her lap to summarize the weekend results and plan for the coming week. She figured she might as well get it done now.
The weekend was a resounding success and Keeli was excited to realize that she would need a lot of new inventory. It would be a week to crack down and create for shows several weeks away. She would need to shop for supplies first thing tomorrow, right after a trip to the bank.
Bedazzled (The Beguiling Bachelors Book 1) Page 23