by Cary Hart
“Is it a risk? Yes, but it’s one I’m willing to take.” He holds his hand out. “Bianca Black, do we have a deal?”
Do we have a deal?
Why wouldn’t I take this? It’s a way for me to get the gallery in the shape I need, so I can have the show that could possibly make me the money to pay off this loan. Risky? Probably so.
“Deal.”
Chapter Three
Bianca
I’m not sure how long I’ve been at it, but brushstroke after brushstroke, I paint my way through my thoughts. Taking my aggressions out on the canvas before me. Emotions pure and raw.
I’m pissed at the world; my Grans for leaving me in this mess, Ford for standing on the sidelines, waiting for me to fail, and myself for being selfish enough to get us in this situation to begin with. All the signs were there. I was just too self-absorbed with my goals that I didn’t notice what was going on around me.
I miss her.
“I need you,” I say to the empty room.
“Well, it’s about time you figured that out.” Ford walks in, throwing a bag down. He comes to stand beside me, hands on his hips, examining my painting.
“Wh-What are you doing?” I set down my brush and wipe my hands on my shirt.
“This is different than the stuff downstairs,” he says, and I’m instantly taken aback by his observation.
“Yeah, it’s a little more…” I search for the words, trying to find ones that don’t give me away.
“Dark?” He looks out of the corner of his eye, gauging my reaction.
“Yeah. I guess it is,” I agree.
We both stand there staring at my work, which tells a story I’m not willing to admit. Not out loud at least.
“So…” he breaks the silence. “Electrical issues up here as well?” He looks around. We’re standing in the dark, only the city lights illuminating the room.
“Huh?”
“I flipped the switch when I came in. Nothing.” He looks around again. “Do you have something against lamps?” He gestures at the rest of the room to point out I have no other source of lighting except the overhead one that is burned out.
Laughing, I reply, “Yeah, it’s out.” I point to the ceiling.
“It’s so bright up here, you almost don’t need it,” he says, turning toward me.
“It’s my favorite spot to paint.” The natural light during the day and this during the night are what inspires my work — the contrast of the two.
“I can see that. It’s an amazing view,” he nods.
But he’s no longer looking at the city.
“Ford?”
“Yes?”
“Why are you here, and why do you have a bag?”
“Oh that? Well, I figured since I’m hands-on with all my projects, that I should probably just stay here,” he informs me.
“Hell no! There is no way I’m letting you stay here. Do you see this space? It’s small. It’s made for me.” I wave my hands in the air towards him. “Not me and you.”
“Calm down, B. I’ll take the couch.” He wanders over and plops down. “See, this isn’t so bad. I can make do.”
“No! Out! Now!”
“The way I see it, with the updates, we are co-owners of this place for the next thirty days. Don’t you agree?”
Deal with the devil.
I knew this would happen. If it seems too good to be true, it normally is. Walking over to stand in front of him, I grab his hand to try and pull him up, but Ford Phillips is solid muscle and I would have better luck moving a mountain.
Mountain of a man…mmmmm.
Digging my feet into the rug, I give it my best try.
“I’m not going anywhere.” His smile is wicked.
“Come on, Ford…get up now,” I grunt.
“No.”
And just like that, with one single tug, I’m in his lap, his palms on my ass, holding me in place. Wiggling around, I try to get up.
“Ummm…” I begin to feel something a little hard.
Oh, my! A lot hard.
Groaning, he picks me up and sets me down beside him, then stands up. “First, we need rules. You cannot strut around here half-dressed like that.” He looks between my tank and boy shorts. “You’re a walking distraction.”
“It’s my place!” I yell.
“For now.” He winks.
Walking over to his bag, I pick it up and open the door.
“Don’t do it B,” he warns.
“Stop calling me B!” I toss it out into the hall. “Get out, now!”
I need him gone. Having him this close is causing my body to do all sorts of things I don’t want him to know about. Now…my little friend in the nightstand, I’m willing to bare all my secrets to it.
“Come on B. It’s late and I just had my driver drop me off.”
“Now!” I point through the open door. He walks past me, but stops in the doorway. “There are two other floors. Take your pick.” I give him a shove and hurriedly shut the door, locking it for safe measure.
“Oh cute! You think that is going to keep me out?”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
**********
Ford
There are two other floors I can sleep on, but what’s the fun in that? Copping a squat, I relax outside the door, checking my messages and answering a few emails.
After several minutes, I decide to call it a night. Reaching inside my bag, I grab a sweatshirt and lay it down for a little comfort and use the bag as a pillow.
Closing my eyes, I begin to settle in until a light humming noise catches my attention.
Is that?
“Mmmmm.” I hear her purr inside.
Yep…it is.
This is going to be fun. Closing my eyes, I begin to fake snore.
“Shit!” I hear a loud noise, like something was dropped. The humming turns into a vibrating. “Oh, God!” Then silence.
I continue my snoring, but not so loud that I can’t hear what is going on. She’s out of bed, padding over to the door, which flies open.
“What are you doing?” She stands in the doorway, hair wet and wearing a barely-there T-shirt that leaves little to the imagination.
“You okay?”
“I-I’m fine. What are you doing out here?
“You sure? You face looks flushed.”
“Yes, I’m good.”
“I bet you are.” I wink and her face turns red.
“You can’t be comfortable out here?” She ignores my comment.
“I was sleeping like a baby. I was having the best dream where you were—”
“FORD!”
“Yes?”
“I’ll be back.” She shuts the door, probably to get dressed before she lets me in.
Getting up, I dust myself off and stuff the shirt back in my bag. I swing it over my shoulder, ready for her to come back.
The door swings open. “Here!” She throws a pillow and couple blankets at me. “You looked uncomfortable. I would have chosen the second floor…Grans’ room.”
Winking, she waits for my reaction, but I’m speechless.
“Okay, then…sweet dreams.”
There will be nothing sweet about them.
Chapter Four
Bianca
Tossing and turning isn’t how I expected to spend my night, but Ford Phillips got under my skin in more ways than one.
I could lie here in bed all day and wallow in my misery or I could hit the ground running and make today my bitch, finish up the last couple pieces in my collection.
I opt for a happy medium and throw on a sweatshirt and slippers before I head to the downstairs kitchen. Even though each floor has its own, the main level is the only one that has all of the appliances. Well, working ones.
Is that….
I round the corner and see Ford plating up breakfast…for two. “What’s this?”
“Consider it a peace offering.” He sets the plates on the table. “I hope you like eggs and bacon?”
“This is just…” I search for the words, unable to think.
“Too much?” He starts looking in the cabinets for mugs.
“No! Not at all. I’m just not a morning person.” I go to the correct cabinet and pull out a couple of mugs, setting them on the counter.
“Thanks,” he says. The way we maneuver around each other comes easy. I could get used to this.
“You’re welcome. You were close.” I give him a lazy smile. “Grans used to say I wasn’t allowed to speak before coffee. Said I was kinda grouchy so…”
“Got it. Limited conversation.” He pours me a cup, handing it to me. “Drink up.”
“Thanks.”
“Sit. Eat.” It’s not a command, but almost a suggestion.
“I’m not that grouchy.” I take my place across from his, at the table for two, and dig in. “Oh my God! This is soooooo good!”
“Glad you like it.” He just smiles while finishing his breakfast. Together, silently eating.
“I have to say; you surprise me, Ford Phillips.” I push my plate away and lean back in my chair, sipping the rest of my coffee.
“How so?”
“I didn’t expect you to be all domestic.”
“Go on,” he urges.
“You’re just different.” I pause, again trying to find the right words, but they don’t come.
“I haven’t had a lot of coffee,” I admit, holding up my empty cup. “I’m doing good to make simple sentences.” I let a laugh escape…something else I’m not used to in the mornings and, definitely, something that hasn’t happened since Grans’ death. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…it’s nice. This, today, was a pleasant surprise.”
“Well, I’ll just take it as a compliment then.” He excuses himself, taking our plates. “Refill?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” I hold up my mug, practically begging.
“So, while I was in the shower this morning. I did some thinking and came up with this list.” He slides a paper in front of me.
“What’s this?” I pick it up.
“That, is a list of everything we need to get done.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. How I see it is we don’t know who is going to end up with this place after thirty days. So every decision that is made needs to be made together.”
“Alright. I can do that. At first, I thought you meant we were going to have to do all the work together.” I laugh nervously.
“I did. So, go get changed, and let’s knock some walls down.”
“Ford, I can’t help, I have a show to get ready for,” I reply, instantly upset that I can’t help. But if there is any chance of me saving this place, then all my time needs to be spent on finishing my paintings.
“B, I was only kidding. As much as I find knocking down walls therapeutic, I’m going to leave that to the construction crew.” He reaches out, covering my hand to calm me down. “Your work is amazing. Focus on that, and I’ll take care of this.”
“Ford, thank you.” His words take me by surprise. I guess I didn’t expect him to be like this, but if my Grans thought enough of him to add him to the will, then that speaks volumes.
Maybe there is more to Ford Phillips than his panty melting smile and tight ass.
**********
Ford
This was supposed to be easy. Get in, buy the property, and build a club. What I didn’t count on was…her. Strong, determined, and so goddamn beautiful.
Now, a couple weeks later, and I’m fighting to keep it together. Checking my watch, I see she’s been upstairs most of the day while I’ve been dealing with the contractors. It’s been a little tricky, planning this in sections, but if it’s what I have to do to get in here, then I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.
“Help! Oh my God! Ford! Help me!” Bianca screams.
Dropping everything, I take off running and bound up the stairs, two at a time. Throwing open the door, I call, “B! Where are you?” I scan the room, but she is nowhere in sight.
“Psst…over here.” I see her head peak out from under the bed.
What the hell?
Rolling my eyes, I walk over to the edge of the bed and bend down. “Care to tell me what you are doing under there?”
“He’s back.”
“Who’s back?” I look around, wondering if this girl is for real. Maybe I need to add crazy to her list of qualities.
“The bird,” she whispers.
I look over and see all the windows are open and the screens are missing. “You want me to shut them?” I head over, closing one at a time.
“Noooo! Don’t!” she screams, and when she does, I turn, only to see a bird dive bomb me and fly out the window.
“What the fuck!”
“Hurry!” B slides out from under the bed, gets up and, leaping over the coffee table and to the windows, slams the rest of them shut.
“You okay?”
“Ford!”
She’s so quick I didn’t have time to prepare for the leap. Our bodies collide and I fall back, wrapping my arm around her before we tumble down.
“Shit! Ford!” Her hands are on me. “I didn’t mean to…”
“I’m fine. The question is; are you?” I sit up, bringing her with me; and when I do, she wraps her legs around my waist, and we are just sitting there in the middle of her room.
“No! That damn bird got in again and shit everywhere.” She holds out her arm. “He shit on me, Ford. On my arm.”
I scrunch up my face. “That’s gross.” I push her arm away.
“I’ll probably die of the bird flu or something crazy.” She pauses. “You’re welcome.”
“What?”
“For dying so you can have the building.”
“Come on.” I stand up, carrying her to the bathroom.
“Where are we going?” Her voice is filled with curiosity mixed with a little excitement.
“You are going to get cleaned up so you don’t die today.” I let out a chuckle, something I have been doing more of since being around her. “Then, we eat.”
“Eat?” she questions as I sit her down on the counter.
“As in pizza.”
“Like a date?”
“As in, I think we both need to get out of here and relax a little.” I wink at her while reaching under the sink and grabbing a towel. “Now, you get cleaned up, and I’ll meet you downstairs in thirty minutes.”
“Thanks Ford.”
“Anytime.”
Chapter Five
Bianca
Walking next to each other down the sidewalks of Manhattan is nice. Before, I was so focused on shutting out the world I didn’t take the time to enjoy those around me. I was so self-absorbed, into my art, that I failed to pay attention to anything else…including my Grans. But tonight, I’m going to change that. Starting with a little casual conversation.
“So, how did you get into the club business?”
“It actually fell into my lap. A couple years ago, a buddy of mine decided to flip some houses, and it turned out to be pretty profitable, padding both our bank accounts.” He looks at me every now and then, giving me a smile that makes me want to melt into him. “Then another friend found a building he wanted to turn into downtown lofts. We were there one night, drinking way too much while trying to plan the layout, and one of the guys decided to take a work light and shine it down from the rafters. That’s how my club, Spotlight, came into existence.”
“That’s a pretty cool story.” I bump his shoulder with mine, and when I do, he grabs my hand then brings it up to kiss it.
“This okay?” he smiles.
“Yeah. It’s a lot okay.” I return the smile.
“Here we are.” He points at a little hole-in-the-wall pizzeria. He opens the door for me, being the perfect gentleman I’m discovering him to be.
“Thank you, kind sir.” I do a little curtsey before walking through the door. “Oh my God! This smells so good.” I feign my knees going weak
.
“It does. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” He holds up two fingers. “Two please…corner would be nice.” He hands the hostess a twenty.
“I’ve lived here almost all my life and I’ve never ventured in here.” I look around and am instantly in love. Everything in here is quaint and traditional. Very homey.
“Best pizza in town. “ He leans forward, licking his lips and suddenly, the pull between us is so strong. The table is our only barrier.
“Ford…I-I, ummm…” I try to put into words what I’m feeling, but something pulls me back. Maybe it’s all in my imagination. It has been a while since I’ve been with a man.
Reaching across the table he grabs my hand. “Don’t. Just go with it.” He strokes my hand, easing my mind while putting my body on high alert. I’m pretty sure I have a “Fuck Me” flashing neon sign above my head.
Both of us scarf down a few pieces, satisfying our hunger, but the craving for something else is still there.
“You ready to get out of here?”
I nod.
He raises his hand for the check, and after boxing up the rest of our pizza, we are out the door. We get halfway back to the house when all of a sudden, he pushes me up against a building, claiming my mouth as his; tongues twisting, teeth clashing, a kiss wild and with abandon. Dropping the pizza box, my hands fly to his hair.
“Ford.” I breathe his name between nips. He brings his leg in between mine, applying pressure to all the places I need it the most.
“I know…” He slows the kiss down, changing our pace until he stills, breathing rapidly, resting his forehead against mine. “Let’s get back.” He gives me a final peck before he starts leading us home.
“The pizza.”
“Huh?”
I turn and pick up the box. Finding the nearest trash, I throw it away. “I better free my hands just in case there are any more impromptu make-out sessions.”
His boisterous laugh echoes around us. “Perfect plan.”
“You think it will rain before we get home?” I take our hands and point to the sky.
“Not before we get home.”
His words make me feel all sorts of things that I shouldn’t be feeling. I mean, I basically just met the guy.