Artfully Yours (3 page)

His muse had deserted him.

Once, she’d been his guiding star. A fixed point of light in the darkness. Untouchable, unreachable, and unchanging. Or so he’d thought. Slowly, so slowly that he’d never noticed it, she’d faded into a ghost. And then one day, he’d tried to work and even her ghost had been gone.

A bitter roar of anger flared up. She couldn’t desert him. She
belonged
to him, had since he’d first seen her. Never in reality; always in his heart.

He remembered how everything inside him had stopped the moment he’d seen her on his very first day at Emerson High. All the grief over his parents’ deaths, all the anger at his controlling asshole of a grandfather who’d gotten custody, all his turmoil had quieted in a soft, dead stop. When everything started back up, she’d been a burn in his blood he’d never even tried to put out. It was that sudden, and it was that simple. This girl who hadn’t known his name, hell, hadn’t even known he existed, was his muse.

Of course, his high artistic ideals aside, Alex at eighteen had still been an anger-fueled hormone-high teenager with no idea how to handle his emotions. Her blissful ignorance of his existence had continued only until the day he’d lost all semblance of control and kissed the crap out of her.

Alex sat on the floor, bent his knees up, and rested his head on his hands.

Elle Finley
.

She’d been just sixteen. He’d been two years ahead of her in school and had felt a bit of a creep about it but until that moment, he’d told himself it was fine, it was romantic and pure, like a medieval knight worshiping his lady, passionately and—key point—
from afar
. After all, you weren’t supposed to defile your muse. He winced.

He still didn’t know what had made him snap. The line of her throat when she threw her head back to laugh at something her friend said? The swing of her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder as she turned to put her books away? No. It wasn’t that. His locker was opposite hers, and he didn’t think she’d ever once noticed him before that day. Then she looked up. Right at him. And she smiled. It was uncertain, probably because she was confused by the way he was looking at her, like he knew her. Or like a starving wolf, because he’d been on fire for her for, oh, about eight months. Perhaps if she’d smiled vaguely and let her eyes slide away, he wouldn’t have done it. But she didn’t break eye contact, and she added this goofy little half wave. And that did it.

He had no memory of crossing the hall, although odds were he had to shove people out of his way, since between class the halls were packed. Then he was kissing her. His hands in that glorious hair, holding her still, gasping into her mouth because he couldn’t bear to stop long enough to take a proper breath. And she was kissing him back.

He’d been tall then, not quite his current six foot four, but not far off. His bulk had been more fat than muscle, and she’d felt fragile in his desperate grip. He tried to be gentle but she lit up for him, holding on tight when he lifted her to crowd her against the dented metal locker. She didn’t push him away; she wrapped her arms around him, pulled him ever closer. He forgot about gentle.

And it hadn’t ended well.

Sitting in the barn at sunset, he could remember their kiss like it happened seconds ago. He knew, at this stage in his life, it was something he’d remember forever. It should have been nothing more than a kiss, an adolescent interlude left behind when real life took over. Instead, it was the instant that had re-forged him into a whole new version of himself.

He closed his eyes. He could remember it, but that was all. He couldn’t see her light anymore. He couldn’t
feel
her anymore.

It made him furious. It made him despair. It made him…lonely.

CHAPTER THREE

Elle turned into Jenny’s driveway at two a.m. and called her from the car to come down and let her in. Five minutes later, Jenny made it to the front door and stood on the step, swaying between her crutches with exhaustion.

Elle examined her sister’s pale face and the dark circles shadowing her half-closed eyes. “Go back to bed. We’ll catch up in the morning.”

Jenny, who’d always been a pushover when half asleep, and only ever then, rested her forehead against Elle’s for a second, mumbled something indistinct, and staggered off.

Elle hauled her bags from the car to the living room, fell face-first onto the couch Jenny had made up for her, and didn’t wake until mid-morning. Since the hospital owed her for all those sick days and vacation she’d never taken, they hadn’t made a fuss when she’d told them she had to go home for a family emergency. In the end, she’d been packed and out of her old life in under twenty-four hours. She was still conflicted about what this said about her as she sat on the granite kitchen countertop the next morning, sipping her second cup of coffee.

She watched Jenny through the window.

Her sister puttered about with one of the many pots clustered in an artistic arrangement on the deck. This one was a round-bellied terracotta, stuffed full of colorful flowers. Jenny had lifted it up onto her lap and was busy picking off dried leaves, keeping an eye on Katie as her daughter dashed around on the clipped lawn, every now and then leaping into the air and tossing her head. And neighing.

Elle took a thoughtful sip of coffee. The deck was new, and by the looks of it hadn’t been through a winter yet. There were no scuff marks or patches to show where furniture once stood, and there was of course no furniture, either, which was why Jenny sat on her butt on the wooden boards, cast stuck straight out ahead, looking much too young to have a four-year-old. Every now and then, Jenny’s head lifted as she tracked Katie, and Elle was hit with a dizzying sense of déjà-vu.

Once, that had been her, watching over Jenny. Once, Jenny had been the carefree girl riding imaginary unicorns across the lawn.

Jenny wasn’t carefree anymore.

The déjà-vu was clobbered by a cold rush of guilt. She’d taken her eye off Jenny, and for a lot longer than a couple of minutes.

Elle’s body jerked as she heard the click of the front door opening, and the hall rang with a cheery voice. “Come right on in, folks, and get a load of this floor. Hardwood. Mmm. Don’t you love it?”

Snatching up a dishtowel and scrubbing at the hot coffee she’d sloshed over her hand, Elle slid off the countertop and strode through the kitchen into the hall. She stopped to stare at a short blonde woman, standing there with arms outspread, inviting the young couple with her to take a look around.

“What the hell?” Elle said.

The blonde’s attention swung to her, but her big smile didn’t slip an inch. With the grace of an air stewardess, she rearranged her arms to direct the hovering couple into the living room and said, “Be with you in a minute. And check out those windows, will you? Was I right? Yeah, I was right.”

The couple wandered into the other room, and the blonde turned on a stiletto heel to face Elle. They sized each other up for a long moment, then she grinned, and this time the smile was real. “Elle Finley. Looking good, girl.”

Elle squinted. “I know you?”

“Awesome! You don’t recognize me!” She put her hands on her hips, fabulous mauve manicured nails a startling contrast to the pale gray pencil skirt. “Imagine a couple of extra pounds, and glasses.”

“Uh—”

“Try a hundred extra pounds, glasses, and brown hair.” She pointed to herself, miming an explosive puff around her head.

“
Lila?
”

Lila Baxter, Jenny’s best friend and partner-in-crime since kindergarten, danced over on her shiny shoes and flung her arms around Elle, squeezing her in a hard hug.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” Elle said when she got her breath back. “How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know.” Lila flipped her long hair. “Amazing.”

“It’s great to see you. It’s a bit weird to see you, though. Here. In my sister’s house with strangers. What are you doing in my sister’s house with strangers?”

“Elle, I’ll be honest with you. I screwed up. Didn’t realize you were here. I promised Jenny I’d hold off as long as possible, but these guys, they were super keen to see the place, and you know how it is. Work’s work. Am I right?”

Elle just shook her head.

“Huh.” Lila blew out a sigh. “Jenny didn’t tell you yet, did she?”

“Nope. Let me guess. You’re a realtor, and she’s selling the house?”

“Close. Dean’s selling it, the prick. All part of the shitty divorce agreement. I told her to fight for half, but all she wanted was to get free of him as quick as she could. You know Jenny. When that girl’s done, she is
done
.”

It was a struggle, but Elle managed not to let the shock show.
Divorce? Jenny was divorced?

“Let me tell you, whoever puts an offer on this joint, I’m going to make sure they get a bargain.” She winked at Elle and, as if she had some kind of extra-sensory perception, turned to face her clients the exact moment they came into view in the doorway behind her. Eerie. “Be right with you,” she called. To Elle, she said, “Great to chat, but I’d better get over there, work my magic.”

“Sure. Go ahead. Wait, Lila.”

Lila glanced back. “Hmm?”

“Once you’ve worked your magic and sold the place, how long do we have?”

Lila grimaced. “You’re kind of supposed to be out already. Don’t worry, though. I’ve got some fantastic listings for you guys. We’ll catch up!”

Right. Elle marched back to the kitchen.

She couldn’t see Jenny through the window, knew even before she stepped outside that they’d disappeared. Still, she walked down to the bottom of the garden, peered up into the treehouse—she wouldn’t put it past Jenny to get up there even with a broken leg, considering the motivation—glanced over the fence into the neighbor’s garden in case they were hiding on the other side, and wandered back toward the house and along the side to the white-painted wooden side gate that had been left wide open. She closed and fastened it, then rested her folded arms along the top rail and stared down the street. Jenny must be able to really shift on those crutches, because they weren’t even in sight.

Divorced?

Elle was still outside when Lila ushered her clients out the front twenty minutes later. She watched Lila lock up behind her, stand chatting with the couple at their car, then wave them off with her big professional smile. As they reversed into the street and drove away, Lila swung to face Elle and picked her way over the lawn.

“How’d it go?” Elle asked.

“Eh, this couple, I’ve shown them a hundred places. They’re wafflers. They love the yard, though. Jenny’s got a gift. You know she did it all herself?”

“I didn’t.”

“Yup. She did. Shame she had to drop out of her landscape design courses, what with the divorce and the debts and the house and everything.”

Jenny was taking landscape design courses?

“Seeing as you’re here, Elle, you mind helping me out?”

“Sure.”

Lila trotted to her car, rummaged around in the trunk, and returned, sign in one hand and a mallet in the other. She thrust the sign at Elle. “You hold, I’ll whack it.”

“You know what?” Elle reached out and took the mallet, leaving Lila with the board. “You hold it. I feel like smacking something right now.”

“Okay.” Lila strode to a point on the lawn, lifted the board high with both hands, and jabbed it into the ground with practiced violence. “Just remember, this is my job, so hit the board, not me. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Be gentle.”

“No promises.”

Hours later, Elle heard keys in the door. “Lila?” she shouted from the kitchen. “Is that you?”

“Very funny.” Jenny hobbled in, Katie bouncing by her side, and tossed her keys on the countertop.

Elle raised her eyebrows. Jenny sighed and sent Katie off to play in her room. Sighing again, she faced Elle.

“Nice walk?” Elle asked.

“Yeah. Leaves are turning. It’s beautiful.”

“You’ve been gone awhile.” Most of the day. “Pretty sure your doctor must have told you not to walk about too much on the cast.”

“I didn’t. Went to the library.”

“Oh, yeah? Pick up any good books?” Jenny opened her mouth to answer, and Elle said, “Come on, Jenny! You’re divorced? Dean’s selling the house from under you? What on earth?”

“Yes. Shouting. Let’s do it that way. Because Katie hasn’t heard enough shouting over the last year.”

Elle controlled herself. It took effort. “You guys shouted a lot?”

Jenny scowled, taking the library books out of her tote and stacking them on the table. “No. He’d have to have been around for us to shout at each other a lot. And the rat bastard scuttled off to God knows where about the same time he came clean about his debts.”

“Why didn’t you
tell
me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

“Because I caught Lila Baxter trying to sell your house!”

Jenny gritted her teeth. “Would you still have come if you’d known?”