by Laura Burton
“I know. You were my hero tonight. Thank you.”
Her gentle response made Edward giddy. He wanted to dash to the bottom of the steps, fall to his knees and burst out into song, singing “I will be your hero.”
He resisted but pictured it in his mind and smirked. If he really did that, Catherine would surely run for her door.
He planted his hand against his beating heart and moved to get back into the car when Catherine’s voice made him stop.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked. Edward froze. He could hardly believe his ears.
“Tomorrow?” he repeated hesitantly. Catherine descended the steps and looked around the deserted street before walking round the front of the car to join Edward, who had remained immobile. Twice now, she had run away from him. Now she was coming to him, willingly. His mouth grew dry. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and stuffed his other in his pocket.
“Tomorrow is erm… laundry day,” he said lamely. He was trying to come up with a lie. Normal people have a laundry day, he figured. Catherine snorted.
“Laundry day?” she asked incredulously. “Is that a code word for something?”
Edward was beginning to sweat. He shifted his weight and chuckled with a shrug.
“What are you thinking?”
“Well, I wondered… seeing as you’ve never been to an art exhibition––”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Edward asked, hardly daring to believe his luck. A flush of color rose to Catherine’s cheeks before she replied.
“No,” she said in a strangled voice. “I feel like I owe you, you’ve saved me twice now and I’ve not been very nice to you. I’m sorry for that.”
Edward shook his head.
“Are you kidding? You’ve been very gracious. I’m a bumbling fool.”
Catherine threw her head back and gave the most musical laugh Edward had ever heard. He wanted to study stand-up comedy and tell her endless jokes just so he could hear her laugh all day. Every day.
“Bumbling fool? You’re so British. I love it.” She took a step forward and rested her hand on his bare arm. The touch sent bolts of electricity through him. It was as if all of his atoms were now fully charged batteries. He was buzzing.
“Anyway, you were saying?” he asked, trying and failing to act nonchalant. Catherine matched his expression of false seriousness, on the edge of breaking into more laughter.
“It’s not as fun to go to these things alone. Would you like to come with me to the animal exhibit tomorrow afternoon? I can send you the details.”
“Nothing would make me happier. Besides, the laundry can wait,” Edward replied taking her soft hands in his. She creased over tittering.
“You’re so funny.”
Edward nodded with satisfaction. She thought he was funny, and suddenly––just like that––everything was right in the world.
“She called you a hero?” Sam asked in surprise. Edward grinned smugly. He had returned to Sam’s apartment, his new pretend home, and Sam – who had been setting up the stage for his show – followed him upstairs, keen to know how things were going with Edward’s crusade.
Edward decided the less Sam knew, the better. So, he concocted a lie and explained that Catherine fell unwell and he had to take her home. Which was partly true, anyway. Catherine did seem pale after her unfortunate encounter with Calvin.
No wonder she was not excited by the idea of getting into a relationship. Things were still raw for her and the idea of trying again with another man, was understandably not filling her with excitement.
But something changed. She had been running away from Edward at every opportunity, but right at the end, when she could have dashed up the steps and disappeared behind the door forever, she stopped. Turned to him and asked him out. The memory of her glinting eyes and dimpled cheek had his stomach doing somersaults. The sensation reminded him that he had barely eaten.
He pulled a face as he eyed the pitiful contents of Sam’s fridge; a drawer full of rotten vegetables, a stick of butter and a huge tub of mayo.
“This place is filthy, and you’ve got no food in,” he said, slamming the fridge door. He rubbed against the ache in his stomach and scowled at Sam, who shrugged back, unfazed.
“That’s because not all of us have a housekeeper,” he shot back as he crossed the dark room and picked up a drink.
“You’re going to have to order your own groceries for the next 7 days. Oh, how will you survive?”
Edward knew that Sam Ardent was not short on cash. Sam was known to keep his cards to his chest about money. Edward was never quite sure how many zeros he had in his bank balance but there was one thing he knew for sure: Sam was frugal. Most of the time at least. If he was at an event or having dinner with his colleagues, then he put his money where his mouth was. But behind closed doors, he bought the cheapest brand of toilet paper and switched off the lights in his apartment, except for the room he would sit in. His apartment sat above a club, which he owned. ‘The Beat’ was a realization of a lifelong dream. It had very few regular punters, but it was his own corner of the city to share his music and support local comedians. It was one of the few places Edward would go regularly and be able to feel… normal. Sam had money, but no one who knew him outside of work would have guessed. He usually wore denim jackets and had an obsession with baseball caps. The wall next to his front door proved that. He had all sixty-four of his caps in a proud display.
Edward’s eyes scanned the room, glancing at all the knick-knacks and clutter. The walls were painted dark and he had guitars propped up in corners, with stacks of magazines and sheet music lining the walls. The floor had shoes and jackets scattered around. If he was ever going to bring Catherine back to this place, he would have to do some serious cleaning.
“No wonder you’re still single mate,” he said heavily as he gestured to the messy room. His stomach growled and he sensed a bad mood coming on.
“It’s almost midnight, I better go downstairs and finish up. You are coming to the show tomorrow night, right?” Sam’s eyes squinted accusingly at Edward as he slowly pulled on his dark jacket. Edward yawned and gave a nod.
“I’ll be there, don’t worry.”
Sam hummed with approval and gave him a casual wave as he left. He banged the door so hard one of the caps fell on the floor. Edward yawned again. His hunger gave way to fatigue and he dragged his feet across the room to the fold out couch in front of the flat screen TV. He undressed to his boxers and collapsed into the squeaky mattress with a sigh. He missed his orthopaedic mattress and his king-size bed back in his penthouse suite. Sleeping on a fold out couch with a lumpy mattress was torture. But he daren’t even open the door to Sam’s bedroom. If his main spaces were cluttered and dirty, he dreaded to imagine the state his bedroom was in.
Then his brain diverted from Sam and settled on Catherine. Memories played out like a slide show across his minds’ eye and he found himself grinning despite the rising nausea in his stomach.
He blinked slowly as his breathing calmed and he listened to the faint vibrations from beneath the floorboards. Sam testing out his new guitar, no doubt. Images of Catherine singing in the Opera house replayed in his mind as he finally relaxed.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to show Catherine why she needs to be with me,” he whispered to the empty room, as though uttering a confession. “Nothing can go wrong.”
Chapter Nine
Art and Chemistry
“When can I meet your boyfriend?” Johnny’s bright expectant smile on Catherine’s laptop matched the delightful tone of his voice. Catherine inwardly sighed.
I shouldn’t have told Johnny about Edward so soon. Of course, he wants to meet the guy.
Calvin never had any interest in meeting her family and Catherine was relieved about that. But she did make the mistake of telling her family that Calvin always wanted to know where she was and told her what clothes to wear. Her mom called him ‘Creepy Calvin.’ At least now they we
re not together anymore, so she didn’t need to worry about him showing up at her parents’ house. Just the thought of him showing up on their doorstep made her shudder.
Catherine was three years younger than Johnny. But since a young age, she had always been protective of him. He was the kindest soul she had ever known, but too trusting of people, only seeing the good in them. Catherine had learned that not all people were kind. No one was as genuine and sweet as Johnny. Except, possibly, their gentle-mannered father.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she corrected, blushing profusely. “I just want to take him to an art gallery... as a friend. He’s never been to one before.”
“They’re a bit boring, Cathy. I don’t want to upset you, but Edward won’t like it. Why don’t you take him to the zoo?” Johnny’s blue watery eyes looked at her with open sincerity. It was difficult to be offended by him, though if anyone else told her that going to an art gallery was boring, she would be thoroughly insulted. Yet, she adored Johnny’s honesty and she knew that everything he said came from a place of love.
“The zoo is a great idea,” she conceded. “Maybe next time.”
“Hmm, you’re spending a lot of time with this young man. Should I be worried?” Catherine’s mother appeared on the laptop screen as she lowered a plate of food in front of Johnny. “You will be careful, won’t you dear?”
Catherine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her mother had the ability to jump straight to worst-case-scenario in situations. In her mind, a new boyfriend after a breakup could only mean one thing: more heartbreak.
“There’s nothing going on between us, I promise. I just feel bad for acting like a crazy person around him and I owe him.”
“Why did you act crazy? Do you have a crush on him Cathy?” Johnny said as he waved his hands at his mother to get her to move away from the screen.
Catherine laughed. It was a good question. Why did she act crazy? She wasn’t sure. Seeing Calvin didn’t help the situation. It was difficult to act cool and serene when Calvin was popping up everywhere she went with Edward. She certainly didn’t want to let her family know about that. Especially her mom. If she knew that ‘creepy Calvin’ was still around, she would never hear the end of that lecture. She would probably even send her dad over to help pack up her things and bring her back home.
The only way to avoid all of that, was to play along.
“Maybe I do like him a little,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It wasn’t a total lie. Her mind painted a picture of Edward’s smile. Dimpled cheeks, eyes sparkling. The mental image sent flurries of excitement in her midriff. Suddenly, a shrill alarm broke her train of thought and she jumped to her feet.
“I have to go, love you all,” she said, whilst stuffing her bag with her wallet and phone.
“Cathy, can you take a picture? I want to see what Edward looks like,” Johnny asked. The way he said it was as if he had just asked her to pick up a chocolate bar on the way home from the store. Yet, the thought of pulling out her phone and snapping photographs of Edward sent her into a panic. She was no paparazzi.
Catherine blew a kiss at him and waved a hand with a laugh.
“Bye big bro, love you.”
Catherine’s stomach was doing violent backflips as she caught sight of Edward standing by the front doors to the art gallery. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his denim jeans, and he wore a relaxed brown leather jacket. His dark wavy hair appeared to be gelled in place, a slight sheen caught the sunlight and it took all of Catherine’s resolve not to stop walking and sigh. She could imagine him surrounded by swooning fans. Even the professional women walking by glanced at him and did a double take. Catherine bit her lip as she imagined him shirtless, covered in oil, bent over the hood of a car, his perfect rear swaggering side to side as he…
“Hey there, beautiful.” Edward’s welcome and side hug shook Catherine out of her fantasy as she shyly nodded back at him. Then she reprimanded herself for having less than pure thoughts.
When they broke apart, Edward reached into his jacket and like a magician, pulled out a small bunch of flowers.
“These are for you,” he said, with a charming smile. Catherine took the flowers and grazed her fingers across the petals. A soft floral aroma floated up to her nostrils and the yellow pigment on the flowers seemed to reflect the sunshine.
“I love daisies,” she said simply. “My brother buys me these exact ones on my birthday.” As soon as the words escaped her lips, she wanted to pull them back out of the air. But Edward had already heard and cocked his head to the side.
“Your brother must be a really decent guy.”
No hint of sarcasm. No smirk. His statement appeared to be genuine, and that surprised Catherine. Most potential dates would make a snide comment.
“He really is,” she said, carefully placing the flowers in her purse. “He was born with Downs Syndrome, and he is my favorite person.”
It was as if a balloon was inside her chest and she held her breath, waiting for Edward’s reaction. A lot of people would tilt their head and give her a sympathetic look, which would make her blood boil. Edward did not even address what she said, but asked her a question instead.
“What’s his name?”
Catherine exhaled with relief as she opened the glass door to the art gallery.
“Jonathan,” she said, as they entered a large hall filled with pictures. “But he likes to be called Johnny.”
Edward’s reaction surprised Catherine. His eyes widened with apparent recognition, and his face paled in color. Then his expression was heavy set for a moment as if he dove into deep thought. His eyes glistened as a lump travelled down his throat and he shook his head away from her. When he looked back, his dimples were back on show and he was flashing his teeth again.
“I’d love to meet him, someday,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. His behavior sent Catherine’s mind spinning. Did he already know Johnny? Why would he react that way?
“Well, funny you should say that, because he wanted me to get a picture of you.”
“You told him about me?” Edward asked in a delighted tone.
Catherine’s stomach lurched and her cheeks burned as she grinned back at him.
“I can’t hide anything from Johnny. We talk every day,” she confessed. A tug at her stomach sent a lump to her throat. She had never told anyone that before. She was opening up too soon. But there was something about Edward’s friendly and warm manner that had her mouth running before she could think. She was certain that if she had any dark secrets, they would all be brought to light. It was hard to hold anything back. She wanted to tell him everything.
Edward pulled out his phone and held it at arm’s length as he leaned towards Catherine. The stubble on his cheek pressed against Catherine’s and she smiled shyly at his phone, looking at the image of the two of them.
“Recording in three, two, one,” Edward said, as Catherine inhaled the scent of his cologne. “Hey there Johnny, I’m Edward. Your sister is showing me this really cool art gallery today and she’s been telling me you like to buy her flowers on her birthday. You sound like an amazing guy, and I hope we get to meet someday soon.” He finished the recording with a peace sign and stood up straight again. Catherine stared at him dumbfounded as she watched him tap his thumbs on his phone with concentration. A ping followed by a vibration in her bag alerted her to her phone. She pulled it out to see a video message from Edward.
“There you go. Videos are so much better than photos, don’t you think?” Edward said brightly. Catherine’s eyes brimmed with happy tears.
I don’t know who you are Edward, but one day I’m going to marry you, she thought as her heart swelled.
Chapter Ten
Meeting with the Enemy
Edward struggled to pay attention to the portraits on the walls, when he found Catherine to be the most exquisite piece of art in the whole gallery. Her hand fit perfectly in his as they interlocked fingers and the feeli
ng was so natural, Edward forgot it might have been a little too forward. He couldn’t even remember the last time he held hands with a woman. Any woman. His previous dates were usually taking selfies or asking Edward to take their picture for their social media profiles. Catherine was so different from those women. She was real. Present. And the way her eyes lit up as she talked about her brother had him weak at the knees. Finally, he found a woman who cared deeply for others, more than herself. Catherine was a woman he could really connect with. He knew that he could talk to her about his past and she would try to understand. Maybe. He felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach as he realized she was mixed up in a ruse. If she found out he had been lying to her and trying to get her to fall in love with him, he was certain she would turn her back and he’d never see her again.
“I love the depth of the eyes in this one.” Catherine’s words brought Edward back to the room. He looked at the black and white portrait of an elephant on the wall.
“And this isn’t a photograph? It’s very realistic,” Edward said, rubbing his chin. Catherine sighed.
“Hyperrealism,” she said with a nod. “It’s so awe-inspiring isn’t it? If I was a millionaire; I’d buy this one in a heartbeat.”
Edward nodded, admiring Catherine’s thick dark hair and her rosebud lips. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He wanted to laugh. If only she knew the monthly cost of his security team was more than the ticket price on this art piece. They moved on.
Edward wrestled with his conscience as Catherine talked at length about the different pieces of art. He nodded along and hummed in feign interest, but her words were not reaching his brain. The whole time, he wanted to collapse to her feet, confess about the wretched deal and beg for her forgiveness.