"Not like the Olympics," I said.
"Can you spin even one time?" he asked.
"I can probably still do a little turn. I took lessons for a year or two, but it's not something I really stuck with."
"No wonder you wanted to do this on a dream date," he said. He skated stiffly, but he was agile and athletic in general, and I could see that he was feeling it out. "You probably imagine the guy lifting you up over his head and kicking his leg out behind him."
I laughed. "I definitely don't imagine him kicking his leg out."
"What do you imagine?" he asked.
I sped up, creating the distance of a few feet between us because Ethan had begun to get the hang of it and skate a tiny bit faster. I smiled at him as we made our way around the rink, hugging the wall.
"I'm trying my best to imagine what he would do, and I cannot figure out anything better than what you're doing."
He smiled. "Oh, you like me being all Bambi-legged like this?"
I smiled and nodded at him, causing him to chuckle. "You're doing great, actually," I said, looking him over. He actually was. I was impressed.
"Have you brought Isabel here?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Not yet. I haven't done it in years, so I haven't even thought of it, but she's probably getting old enough to appreciate it now. I bet she'd love it." I smiled at him as he continued to skate toward me. "Thank you for bringing me here," I added. "And for dinner."
"I've always surrounded myself with people who make me want to be a better person," he said out of nowhere. "I think it's important."
"I agree," I said. "It's hard enough being a human being as it is. You have to keep the kind of company that makes life better and not worse."
"Sounds simple, but it's important."
"Yep."
He stared at me, smiling at the fact that it was becoming a little easier for him to skate. "I'm saying that because I feel like you have this capacity to make me better. I catch myself thinking about things you said, and I can't help but feel like I'm better for thinking them—that I changed for the better after I spent time with you."
I wasn't the best at skating backward, and Ethan was catching on, so I switched to skating forward, falling into place beside him.
"You're getting it!" I said, smiling at his obvious progress.
"See?" he said, "That's what I'm talking about.
"What? I'm just proud of you," I said.
"Exactly."
"Anyone would be proud of you. You're really getting the hang of it."
"I'm only getting the hang of it because you're encouraging me. And because I want to impress you."
"You impressed me before we came here."
"In that case, I have about three more laps in me, and I'll be ready to go."
I smiled. "Three laps sound perfect."
"You could probably do about ten in that time," he said.
I smiled shyly at him, and he said, "Pretend I'm not here for a minute."
"Why?"
"Because I want to see how you'd skate if I wasn't here to hold you back."
"You're not holding me back," I said.
"Yeah, but I want to see what you've got."
I gave him a teasing grin. "I don't want to put all these nice people to shame," I said, looking around.
He laughed. "Let me see what you can do," he said.
I knew by the way he said it that he really wanted me to skate a little for him. I wasn't the best skater, but I also wasn’t shy about showing him what I remembered, mediocre as it might be. I took off, skating in front of Ethan at about three times the speed we had been going.
I glided to an open spot on the rink where I held my breath and did a simple waltz jump, which was basically the only trick I knew. It wasn't beautiful and I teetered, but I managed to refrain from falling. I landed, laughing at myself for being so wobbly, and I skated back toward Ethan, who had stopped and was standing against the wall watching me.
I might not have been very good at figure skating tricks, but I loved to skate fast, so I made it to Ethan quickly, scraping my blades against the ice as I came to a stop in front of him. He looked different in his glasses, but he was still gorgeous, and I grinned at the way he was smiling at me.
"Do my moves make you want to take lessons?" I asked.
"No," he said. "But they make me want you."
Chapter 11
"So, he flat out said he wanted you, and then nothing?" Lu asked, looking perplexed.
I nodded as I took a sip of water. The day after my ice skating date with Ethan happened to be a lunch date some of my friends from college including Lu, Sarah, and Drake (who wasn't there yet). We were eating at one of Collin's Mexican restaurants, and Sarah and Lu talked about how they were both craving spicy foods as a result of their pregnancies.
I had just told Lu and Sarah what had happened with Ethan and me the night before, leaving out a ton of personal details and conversations.
"I just thought it was funny," I said. "I really thought he was flirting with me by taking me skating and then back to his apartment and everything, so I got it all built up, thinking he's falling in love, and then he leaves me hanging. No kiss, no nothing. And the worst part was that, when we said goodbye, it seemed like last time—like he wasn't planning on getting in touch with me."
"How long did you stay at his apartment?"
"Midnight," I said. I got lost in thought, remembering how the evening went down.
"Let me get this straight," Sarah said, chewing a mouth full of chips and dip. "He brought you ice skating and then over to his apartment till midnight, and he didn't even try to kiss you?"
I shook my head. "I think he just wants to be friends. He said that thing about 'wanting me', and then a few other things during the night that made me believe something was gonna happen. But then, at the end of the night, he gave me a hug and put me into a cab." I rolled my eyes and shook my head at myself, feeling a wave of embarrassment. "I know I gave him the chance to kiss me, too, and he didn't. I got close to him a couple of times on purpose, and nothing."
"What'd you do all night?" Sarah asked.
"We talked. He asked me a ton of questions—deep stuff like my feelings on God, and life, and art, and music, and the environment. He asked me about my sister and Isabel, and if my sister ever dated. He told me about his family and asked about mine. He wanted to know where I stood on things—life stuff, you know? I felt like we were doing a podcast or something."
Lu nodded. "Ethan's smart," she said. "Joe tells me some of the stuff they talk about. He's a thinker. It's just so weird that he's not kissing you, because Joe swears he is totally in love with you."
"Well, I gave him a few opportunities to show me how in love with me he was, and he didn't take them, that's all I know."
"That's weird," Sarah said. "I can ask him if you want." She shrugged. "Ethan and I are friends. It wouldn't be totally out of the ordinary for me to go by the studio and say 'hi' to him. You know, do some recon for you."
I put my hands over my face at the thought of being desperate enough to send in spies. "No, don't do that," I said. "He's got my number. I can tell he likes me and he's just making himself create distance."
"I think he likes you far more than he expected to," Lu said.
"We'll see," I said. I was about to say more, but I trailed off in a mumbling tone when I saw our friend, Drake, walking up. "Heyyy!" I smiled at Drake, and Lu and Sarah did the same as he came to sit in the empty chair.
"Sorry I'm late," he said. He looked around the table at the three of us with an awkward expression like he might have interrupted something. "Why'd everybody get so quiet?" he asked.
"Because we have secrets," I said, teasing him before I chomped down on a chip.
"What kind of secrets?" he asked. "Did you already order?" he added, seeing no menus on the table.
"We got you a steak burrito," Lu said.
Drake nodded thankfully as he ate a chip. "What kind of secr
ets?" he mumbled around his food.
"I'm having a baby," Lu said since she and Joe were officially unable to hold the news and were telling everyone.
"Are you really?" Drake asked with wide eyes.
"She nodded and smiled.
"Congratulations!" he said. "Now, both of you are gonna be mamas." Lu and Sarah shared a smile, and I took a sip of water, which almost came spewing out of my mouth when Drake said, "I just got off the phone with Ethan Prescott, of all people."
I literally choked when he said it, and it was all I could do to keep the water from spewing out of my mouth. I had to bury my face in a napkin and strategically cough and swallow to get down the sip of water.
Drake stared at me as if wondering if I was gonna make it. "You okay?"
I nodded.
"Ethan said he got my name from you," Drake continued, looking at me.
I nodded again, clearing my throat to soothe the sting that was still there. "He was talking about a photo shoot he had to do, and I told him you were really good," I said.
"Well, thank you, because he wants to hire me, and it's for the cover and a spread in New York Quarterly. Are you friends with him or something?"
"Sort of," I said.
"Did he already ask you about the backdrop?" Drake asked, steadily scarfing chips and guacamole.
"No," I said. "I didn't even know he was gonna call you. What backdrop?"
"He wants a custom backdrop for the cover photo. Hand painted. He said he wants you to do it."
"Me?" I asked.
Drake nodded like he was surprised I didn't know.
"I've never done anything like that."
He shrugged. "You can handle it. We'll need it to be about twelve by twelve, but the inner six feet or so is the most important."
"What does he want?" I asked.
"Something beautiful," Drake said with a shrug. "It is going on the cover, after all. I thought he talked to you about it already. He acted like you were onboard."
"I'm sure I'll do it, I just haven't talked to him, so I don't know what he's thinking."
"Mosaic would look good," Lu said. "Or a bright, linear pattern like you did on the guitar that one time. That would look great as the background of a photo."
I nodded. "I'll make sure he wants me to do it and if so, I'll ask him what he has in mind."
Drake and I stared at each other, and he could tell I was uncertain because he said, "He does want you to do it. I already talked to him."
"I believe you, I just had no idea he was gonna call you," I said.
Drake looked at his watch. "He did. I just got off the phone with him before I came here." He smiled at me. "He already told me they'd be able to budget for a painter, so congratulations on getting the job."
"What budget? How much?" I asked.
Drake smiled. "Just talk to him," he said. "He's your friend." He paused and tilted his head at me. "Or are you dating him?"
I shook my head. "We're friends," I said, even though my stomach flipped at the thought.
The four of us sat at the table, catching each other up on our lives. We had all gone to college together, but it was Lu who now saw all of us more than any of us saw each other. I rarely saw Sarah or Drake outside of our lunch dates. Though there were occasionally more people, the four of us were the core group, and we ate lunch together about once a month.
It was nice catching up with Drake and Sarah, and before we left, Drake mentioned again that we'd probably be working together on Ethan's project soon and that he was looking forward to it. His business had grown to the point where he was doing some high-profile work, so it was nice that he wasn't freaking out about Ethan's job—especially since, on the inside, I was.
I left lunch with no doubt in my mind that Ethan would soon be contacting me about the backdrop, which was why the next three days seemed like an eternity.
I went on with my life, trying not to worry about Ethan or whether or not I was painting a backdrop for him. I considered contacting Drake to see if he had heard anything more, but I decided to give it a week or so. I knew Ethan knew how to contact me and he would if he wanted to.
Finally, three days after I had lunch with Drake, I got a call from Ethan. It was preceded by a text. I was sitting in my room, contemplating my next move on a lamp I was painting when I heard from him.
Ethan: "Do you have time to take a call?"
I grinned at the screen wondering why in the world that boy couldn't just text me.
Me: "Yes."
My phone began to vibrate within a few seconds of me pressing the send button.
"That was fast," I said, answering the phone.
"I was waiting for your text to come in," he said. "I had my finger over the call button. Hey, did your friend ask you about the painting backdrop? The editor said I'm wearing a white suit on the cover, so she wants a dark backdrop. I think. I don't know. She asked me for your number so she can tell you herself. I think it has to be a certain size for the photographer, too."
"Hello, yes, I hear the things you're saying, but you're talking really fast, and I wasn't expecting to get this much information. Do I need to take notes on what you're saying right now, or am I waiting for someone else to contact me?"
"They'll contact you, and it'll be soon. I gave Karen your number and said you were working with the photographer."
"You didn't even ask me if I wanted to," I said.
"Do you?"
"Yes, but it would be nice for you to ask," I said.
"I'm sorry," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. "Would you like to paint a backdrop for a photo shoot I'm doing?" he asked nicely.
"One for the cover of a magazine?" I asked.
"Yes," he answered.
Just then, another call came in on my phone, and I stared at it in disbelief. I almost never got phone calls, and now I had two at once.
"That's a New York number calling in," I said, putting Ethan on speakerphone so I could see what was happening on the screen.
"That's the magazine," he said. "You need to take it. Just tell them you'll do whatever they ask. It'll be laidback. Call me back when you hang up with them, okay?"
"Uh, okay?" I said. I was scared to connect the call but knew I didn't have much time. "I'll call you back," I said.
"Okay bye," he said.
I pressed the appropriate button to connect myself with the unknown number. My heart was pounding and I couldn’t catch my breath. When I spoke, the word, "Hello," came out about an octave too low, but there was nothing I could do.
"Am I speaking with Macy?" the voice on the other end asked.
"Yes."
"My name is Karen Homes. I'm coordinating Ethan Prescott's photo shoot for the summer edition of New York Quarterly. Ethan wants to use a certain photographer, and he's asking for a custom backdrop, which is why I'm contacting you."
"Okay," I said.
"I can budget a flat fee of three thousand for your finished work. I want it to be heavy on the greys, but the subject matter is up to you. I wanted to use something solid, but Ethan said you could do something that represents him, so we're taking a chance on having you paint something. It might not be on the cover, depending. We might end up going with a solid." She paused and took a deep breath. "As long as this price and these terms seem agreeable, you should begin work as soon as possible." She stopped again as if waiting to see whether or not I wanted to move forward with the conversation.
"It sounds fine," I said, even though I was cripplingly nervous and wasn't even quite sure what I was agreeing to. I cleared my throat.
"We are planning on shooting in a couple of weeks. Are you sure this time frame works for you?"
"Yes."
"Okay, so I'll factor you into the budget. We'll pay the photographer a flat fee, so you'll have to settle up with him. I'll add your rate as three thousand."
"Thank you," I said.
I hung up the phone with Karen, and instantly called Ethan.
"Hello?"
he said. I could hear him smiling.
"I just got off the phone with your lady, and I still have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing."
"That's because it's up to you," he said. "It's no pressure. She wanted to use grey, and I knew you could do something better than that."
"I'm excited about it," I said. "Thank you for thinking about me."
Ethan laughed at that.
"What's funny?" I asked.
"You," he answered. "Thanking me for thinking about you."
Chapter 12
Another two weeks later
I had been working tirelessly on the backdrop for the last two weeks, and now it was finally the day of the photo shoot. Drake had a nice studio on the tenth floor of an office building, and I lugged the backdrop out of the cab and up the elevator. It was rolled up, and I doubled it over and carried it as discreetly as possible, but it was a heavy, cumbersome load.
I didn't see Drake until I had already come inside and set the heavy roll of fabric, along with my bag, onto the floor at my feet. Drake had been in the back, but he appeared out of nowhere and was already headed in my direction when I stood.
"There she is," he said. He smiled and came in for a sideways hug as he approached, and I returned it.
"Thank you for giving me that backdrop to start with," I said. "That would have added to my supplies, and I already have three hundred dollars in paint."
"I knew it'd be a lot," he said, not looking surprised. "I'm glad I had that old backdrop you could work with."
"It was perfect," I said. "I know I need to give you something for it."
"Don't worry about it," he said with a smile. "I'm a high roller now."
I grinned at him, gesturing around his studio, which had first class furniture and props and a great atmosphere. I had watched his space and equipment grow from simple low-cost items to the impressive studio where we now stood. It was nice to see my friend succeed in business, and I felt good for referring Ethan to him.
Drake stooped to pick up the oversized canvas with a groan. I reached out to help him with the load, but he gave me a smile that implied he'd been teasing. "I got it," he said. "But it did get a lot heavier since the last time I picked it up."
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