by Amber Lacie
“Holy shit.”
“Holy shit is right.” Holden rolls to the side, while keeping my body in his grasp. I lay my head against his damp chest and close my eyes. I dream of wild colors, black and white photographs, and a boy with wild brown hair.
Chapter 17
Seasons come and go. Fall leaves are replaced with icy winters. Warm gentle breezes melt away the ice and tulips begin to bloom around the campus. They spring up in bright bold colors, lining sidewalks and windowsills. My favorite tulip is sitting on my desk in a small mason jar, half filled with water. The first purple petal fell off today. I have it pressed between two books with a can of paint sitting on top for extra weight. If I am lucky, one more petal will fall before he brings me a new one. He has been bringing me a flower every day with a cup of coffee, since I settled into my gallery.
It still feels weird to call it that. I’m twenty-one years old and I have my own art gallery. Technically, it belongs to all three of us, but it is my special place. It is where I come to think, create, and just be me. When we first met Janel, she was running a gallery featuring some of my artwork, along with Holden’s photographs. Although Holden and I still want to open one in New York, we couldn’t turn down this opportunity. The remodel of the new building turned out to be too costly for the old owners and they quickly put it up for sale. Holden’s photographs, along with my artwork were selling rapidly. Janel was a perfect business match for us. She was already an established art dealer by the time we met. Jokingly, I asked Holden if we could put a bid on the studio. He took me seriously and so did his parents. They fronted us the down payment cost that we couldn’t cover. The studio is split fifty-fifty, with Janel having one half, and us sharing the other.
The spring semester has already started. I only attended two days, before I gave it up. It wasn’t for me. I felt caged. At the studio, I am able to breathe, to move freely, and I feel so incredibly alive. Holden is continuing with his photography major. It was part of the agreement with his parents. They would help us start our business, but he has to finish school. His mom felt at least one of us should have a degree.
Holden should be here soon. The new studio sign is being hung today. I can’t wait to see everything in place. The grand opening is tonight. There is nothing like getting everything done at the last minute. It’s my fault we are rushing things today. The sign was delivered a few weeks ago, but it wasn’t right. There was something about it that didn’t sit well with me.
Escapes was painted in chiffon black on a large cream color wooden sign. It looked out of place, way too modern for what I was wanting. I couldn’t figure out how to combine it with our gallery. I didn’t know how to blend the old with the new. Holden showed me photographs of an older sign hung above an old motel. The letters were made from twisted metal and then nailed onto the sign. It was exactly what I was looking for, only we would tweak it to fit our needs. We would modernize it.
The front door swings open and Janel comes rushing in. “Is he here? Tell me he’s here. The guys are here with the sign.”
I look down to my watch and back to the door. “They are here already? They aren’t supposed to be here for another hour.”
I head outside to inspect our new sign. Two identical heavier set men in dark blue overalls are carefully carrying it down the ramp on the back of their truck. They must be twins; it is impossible to tell them apart. They shift the sign in their arms and set it down gently by the truck. It is wrapped in bubble wrap with cardboard covers along the edges. I desperately want to see how it looks, but at the same time I want to wait for Holden. I check my watch again. He should have been here by now. I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to get a hold of my anxiety, lurking just below the surface.
“We’re going to set this down over here for just a second. We need to grab the brackets.”
Glancing at his shirt, I notice a nametag. “Thank you, Lee.” At least, I will be able to tell them apart now. Lee hands two wrought iron brackets to the other man. He disappears into the truck and comes back with a drill and two sets of very long chrome chains in his hands.
“Same place as the old one?”
“Yes. Are those chains the right length? They were too short last time, and I clearly stated they needed to be at least four inches longer when I placed the order.” My skin crawls from the tone of my own voice. Hopefully, I am not coming across as a bitch, I just want everything to be perfect.
Janel walks up behind me and lays her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure they have everything correct. You’ve called them four times this week alone, to verify everything. Just relax. Why don’t you go inside and make some coffee?” She takes a motherly tone with me, but it is what I need right now. If I stay out here I will only continue to harp at the poor men. Stepping inside, I check my watch again. Where is he?
I am watching the last couple drops of coffee fall into the glass pot. The front door opens and I can hear a drill being used outside. It is almost up. I wish he would get here. I don’t want to see it without him. My wish comes true as strong arms wrap themselves around my waist. Turning my head, I glare at Holden over my shoulder.
“You’re late.”
“I know.”
“Why are you late? The opening is tonight. What if they messed up the sign? What if they dropped it? The florist is supposed to be here soon to deliver the arrangements for the tables. I have called twice to confirm and no one answers. What if—”
Holden presses his lips to mine, completely cutting off my mini meltdown. When he starts to pull away, I open my mouth to continue my thoughts, but he turns me in his arms and devours my lips with another kiss. He rests his forehead against mine, while staring deep into my eyes. “Stop. It will be perfect, just stop.”
“But what if it’s not?”
“It already is. I came in to see if you want to see the sign. They have it hung; all we need is someone to cut off the bubble wrap. I need someone who’s brave enough to climb a ladder.”
“You don’t need me to do that. You just want to check out my ass at eye level.”
Chuckling, he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You have figured out my master plan. Come on.” Gently grabbing my hand in his, he leads us outside. As we walk, I am able to finally see his entire outfit. He is in a pair of dark blue jeans, a light blue dress shirt, with a black suit jacket and matching tie. He cleans up so nicely and he smells incredible. I find myself wondering what he is wearing underneath his jeans. Is he wearing boxers or has he gone commando again?
Janel clears her throat, pulling me away from the thoughts I was having about Holden. She hands me a pair of scissors and I climb to the top of the ladder, while Holden holds it still. I cut through the middle of the long piece of tape. The bubble wrap slowly falls to the ground unveiling our new sign. I am in complete awe. The detail of the chrome letters is amazing. They have been curved, bent, and welded into place, giving the sign a three-dimensional look. The edges of the letters have been rounded, giving them a sleek flare. I climb back down the ladder to take a better look.
Janel holds one of my hands, while Holden grabs the other. So many emotions are going through me. I am astounded, and immensely proud of what the three of us have accomplished in such a short time. Janel sniffs, as she wipes away a tear from under her eye. Giving her hand a small squeeze, I look at her with a huge grin on my face.
She smiles back and bumps me with her shoulder. “Carsten, this is amazing. You were right. We needed something unique and this is definitely it.”
I thank the two men who delivered our sign as they pack up their truck. Just as they pull out of the parking lot, a van with Blooms Florist written in green writing on the side, pulls up behind us. Janel lets go of my hand to greet them. Pulling on Holden’s hand, I drag him back inside the studio with me. We walk through the main gallery where my paintings are showcased, along with some other local artists. I push open the back door and lead us down the short hallway to Holden’s office.
E
very time I step in here, I am reminded of how much he loves me. The photographs he took of me painting, cover the walls. Holden had several offers for the pictures, but he declined. He says they are for his private collection. My favorite photograph is hanging behind his desk. I am sitting on a wooden stool with my bare feet perched on one of the rungs in front of my easel. My head is slightly tilted with my hair loosely braided to one side and pulled over the front of my shoulder. My fingers are brushing a few stray hairs back behind my ear. The sweater I am wearing is baggy and falling off of me, leaving one of my shoulders exposed. The shape of my bare thighs and calves are highlighted by the morning light behind me.
I remember waking up early that morning to paint. Both of my parents were still sleeping soundly in their room. Holden was curled into a ball on my floor. The house was quiet. I snuck out into the backyard with my easel and paints tucked under my arms. I perched myself on the stool, still in the oversized sweatshirt I wore to bed. As soon as the paintbrush hit the canvas, I was lost in my art. I didn’t notice Holden until he was right beside me, commenting on my color choices.
“You like that one, don’t you?”
“I do. Although, I probably would have put on pants if I knew you were taking my picture.”
“I like you without pants.” Gripping my waist, he lifts me up and sets me on the edge of his desk.
“Of course, you do,” I whisper. My eyes close, as he leans down, capturing my mouth with his. My hands slide up his chest to his shoulders, trying to push off his jacket. He leans against me, slowly pushing me back onto the desk. Something crashes to the floor, but he ignores it. His lips trace the curve of my neck. Wrapping my hands around his neck, I pull his body against mine. Suddenly, something cool begins to seep into my pants, completely pulling me from the moment.
“Holden, I’m wet.”
“Mmmm. How wet, baby?”
“No. I’m serious. Stop.” I tap his shoulder to get his attention and push him off of me. I sit up and notice a broken coffee mug scattered on the floor. My fingers brush against the back of my pants. I am sitting in a puddle of day old coffee. “I’m actually wet.” He steps back and I jump down from his desk. He quickly grabs his camera and extra lenses off of his desk. Thankfully, my pants were absorbent. It seems they have soaked up most of the spilled coffee.
Holden looks at me as my lips start to tremble. Not today, I didn’t need anything to go wrong today. I wasn’t planning on going home to change. In fact, I brought my blouse for tonight with me. The showing starts tonight, promptly at seven with hors d’oeuvres starting at six-thirty. It is already four-thirty; I don’t have time for mistakes. A hot, angry tear slides down my cheek. Holden lets out a chuckle.
“None of this is funny. I need everything to be perfect and now there’s coffee all over my pants.”
“Baby, it’s funny.”
Shaking my head back and forth, more tears begin to fall. Holden is laughing and I begin to sob. I can’t handle all of this. It is ridiculous and over dramatic. I know it is just a spilled drink, but I can’t control my emotions right now.
“What is this? Baby, stop. It’s just coffee. I’ll run you home and you can change your clothes.”
“I just…I want it to be perfect, you know? And then…and then everything is late and…I’m running out of time…and now my pants are covered in coffee.” I sniffle, as I try to calm myself down by taking deep breaths.
“Carsten, I love you. This will be perfect just like you. Janel already has buyers lined up for the bigger pieces. You’ve got plenty of time. Come on. I’ll take you home.” His arm wraps around my shoulder, as we walk out of the office. Pressing a kiss to my temple he whispers, “I got you.”
Those three words do so much for me. They put everything in its place, instantly calming me. We walk into the main gallery where Janel is busy delegating to the florist staff where all of the arrangements are to be placed. She is the exact opposite of me. Where I am slow and rushing around at the last minute, she is quick and organized. She has everything scheduled, down to the last minute.
“Go ahead and hop in my truck. I’ll let Janel know we are stepping out.” He quickly kisses the top of my head and pushes me towards the door. I slowly push open the door, looking over my shoulder at Holden. He is whispering something in Janel’s ear. She smiles and gives him a knowing wink.
My stomach sinks, as suspicions begin to whisper in the back of my mind. He is hiding something. First, he was late and now he is sharing secrets with Janel. Not wanting to look like I am being nosy, I quickly walk to the truck. I get my seatbelt on just in time, as he opens the driver’s door.
“Everything okay?”
“Yep.”
“Nothing I should worry about?”
“Nope.”
He starts the truck and neither of us talk during the drive back to our apartment. The idea of him hiding something continues to eat at me. I shouldn’t worry. It is Holden, he would never hurt me, but I am still having a hard time trusting people. I push the worry into the deep recesses of my mind and hop out of the truck, as soon as we pull up in front of the house.
*****
Rushing up the stairs, I trip and slam my knee into the top wooden step. Today is not faring well for me. I mumble a few curses under my breath and quickly unlock the door, while rubbing my now sore knee.
My fingers quickly slide the hangers in our closet back and forth. “Shit.” The pants I am looking for aren’t in here. Turning around, my eyes fall on the pile of dirty clothes in the corner. Sitting right on top is the pair of pants I so desperately need. It is too late to take them to the cleaners. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“What’s the matter?” Holden is leaning against the doorframe, staring at me as if I am a crazed lunatic who escaped from the mental hospital.
“My pants are dirty. I didn’t think I’d need them and now I have to wear my black dress, which means I have to shower again, so I can shave my legs.”
“I like your black dress.”
“Of course you do.” He likes anything I wear that shows off my legs. I grab my dress from the closet, hang it on the door and step around Holden, who for some reason is not understanding my frustration. I grab my toothbrush from the cabinet above the bathroom sink and squeeze a small dab of toothpaste onto it. Shoving it in my mouth, I turn on the shower and step in carefully, not wanting to wet my hair. I lather shaving cream on one leg with one hand, while brushing my teeth with the other. I concentrate on shaving my leg with my toothbrush hanging from my mouth. I don’t focus on brushing my teeth again until I finish. I lather up my other leg and repeat the process. Not remembering if I shaved my armpits or not, I give them a quick swipe.
I jump out of the shower to find Holden leaning against the sink with my favorite pair of strappy black heels. He smiles and I squint at him, as I grab a towel, securing it tightly around my chest. “I’m sure you find all of this amusing.”
“I just don’t see what the big rush is. You’ve got plenty of time. Janel has everything in order. I think you should stay naked. I could help you forget the stress of the day.”
“I love you, but the answer is no. I’m already late because of you.”
“You’re not late, and so what if you are. What would a few more minutes hurt?”
Ignoring him, I step into our bedroom and quickly pull on my black lace bra with matching panties. My fingers run over the black material, as I carefully remove my dress from its hanger. It is a little tight on my hips, as I slide my long legs into it, but once I get it pulled all the way up, it fits me like a glove. Holden stands behind me and takes the two black ribbons I am holding behind my head and ties them into a bow. The ends of the strings hang down my back, brushing against my bare skin. I am not one for showing a lot of skin, but I love this dress on me. It is a shorter dress than I normally wear, ending mid-thigh on me. The way the halter-top hugs my chest, while accentuating the curve of my waist is incredibly slimming, as well as sexy.
; Grabbing a few bobby pins off the dresser, I start to pin my hair up when Holden stops me. My heart flutters in my chest, as I watch him step towards me, sliding one hand around my waist. I can feel the heat of his body against mine, as he leans down, kissing the exposed skin along my shoulder. “Leave it down.”
“Okay.” My voice is breathy, barely a whisper. He places one more kiss against my neck and I melt into him. Spinning me in his arms, he grabs my waist and sets me on the edge of the dresser in front of him. One of his hands grasps the back of my neck, while the other slides down and around my waist, palming and gripping my ass, as his tongue dances with mine. Fuck. I love the way he kisses me. It is never just his lips against mine. He kisses me with his entire body.
The alarm on his watch goes off. His lips pull away from mine, leaving me wanting and breathless. Brushing my bottom lip with his thumb, he gives me a wink. “Time to go.”
“No, I don’t want to go anymore. Janel can do it all.” I do my best to pout, but when he lifts me from the dresser, I know that I have lost.
“She probably could, but they are expecting a famous artist to be there.”
“Oh? Did you book one?”
“You. I’m talking about you.” Pressing a kiss to my temple, he softly grabs my hand and pulls me from the room. I grab a jacket and do a quick double check of my hair and makeup. It will have to do. We are about to step out of the apartment, when I suddenly remember my shoes.
“Holden, wait. My shoes–”
“You mean these?” Holding up his other hand, he reveals my strappy, black sandals, hooked to his finger. “You can put them on when we get there. I don’t want you falling or tripping in them. You already fell up the stairs. I think it’s best to avoid falling down them.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
“No worries, baby.”