Overture (Rain Dance, Book 1) (Rain Dance Series) (19 page)

BOOK: Overture (Rain Dance, Book 1) (Rain Dance Series)
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The small smile
he gave me was lopsided. "Don't try to distract me. Clearly, you have
multiple talents when it comes to the arts."

     
I wouldn't
argue that. Truth be told, I failed in most aspects of life. But if there was
anything I was good at, it was creating shit. And singing.
For whenever it
came to me versus my friends at karaoke, I always came out the winner and the
superstar.
Though I still hated my voice for how soft it was, which was bad
when sometimes all I wanted to do was sing from the deepest reaches of my soul
- growls, shouting, and all that jazz.

     
I stood up and
grabbed my bag from the floor. "How was your shower?" I grinned
sweetly at him and watched as his gaze darkened.

     
"Necessary," he replied, wrapping an arm around me and leading
me out. "Now, tell me something you can't do."

     
"Huh…"
Where to start?
"Ride a bike?"

     
"Really?"

     
"Actually,
I can't drive, either."

     
"Hm."

     
"And I
can't do long division. Not without a calculator."

     
He guided me
down the stairs, remaining silent.

     
"…Is your
image of me ruined, now?" I asked when we reached the front door.

     
"Shattered."

     
"Well,
there goes my heart."

     
After he
grabbed his coat and briefcase, we stepped outside. As he locked the front
door, I moved back and waved goodbye to his lovely home. "Bye-bye,
place."

     
"Will you
come back tonight?" He asked. "Or would you rather I come see
you?"

     
I looked at
him, somewhat concerned. I certainly didn't want to be away from him tonight.
But wasn't it bad to keep doing this? It hadn't even been a full three days
post first-kiss. "Are you sure you want to?" I asked. "I mean…I
want to see you. But I don't want you to get sick of me."

     
"Are you
getting sick of me?" He glanced in my direction as we made our way down
the steps.

     
"Definitely not."

     
"Then
choose where."

     
"…My
place, I guess. I want to make brownies."

     
He pecked me on
the cheek before opening the car door for me.

 

 

     
The next two
days were like a redo of Monday and Tuesday, only I wasn't nearly as nervous.
As agreed, we spent Wednesday night at my place. After making some brownies, I
decided to spice things up a little by playing a board game instead of sitting
in front of the television. Cat-Opoly was my game of choice.

     
"
You're
the cat's meow
," he read off the 'Purrfect!' cue card. "
Advance
to Cool Cats
."

     
"You're
cheating. You must be."

     
He frowned at
me, clearly insulted. "I just happen to know what I'm doing. I think I'll
buy it. Alright. Go."

     
While he
exchanged his money for the property, I picked up the dice and rolled an eight.
I counted the spaces and moved my milk token onto the next square. "
Fleas.
Pay two hundred dollars
," I whined, wanting to cry.

     
"Too bad.
My turn."

     
Despite the
fact that he was unbelievably brutal when it came to winning, I couldn't help
but get a little turned on by his playing style. Calm, cool, collected, and
entirely in his element. I was almost glad that I had chosen this particular
game. Almost. But my shame and embarrassment was a little too much for me to
handle. Ethan played by the rules with absolutely no leniences. And where as he
could easily add up the total costs of his monopolies within moments, I took
forever.

     
"What are
we listening to?" he asked while I tried to work out how much money I owed
him for landing on his Maine Coon.

     
"'Bolero
On The Moon Rocks.' Swell, isn't it?" I lost count of the price. "Did
I mention I can't do math in general?" For a minute, I really thought I
would
cry.

     
"Give it
here." He held out his hand to do it for me.

     
Next time, I
would have to be careful about what game I chose. Something that didn't include
fake money and lots of counting.

 

 

     
He had another
early meeting the next morning, so we called it a night and ended up falling
asleep on the couch again. As comfortable as it was for me, I couldn't be sure
if the same went for him. Feeling bad, I asked him if he wanted the couch for
himself, but he was adamant that I stay with him. Luckily, I was small enough
that we both fit with ease.

     
I slept the
whole night through this time. And when I woke up, his mouth was on my neck,
his finger inside of me, and I was already close to coming. Suffice to say, it
was a very good morning indeed. But he had to leave right afterwards, so I
still wasn't able to have my own way with him.

     
I ended up
sleeping for another three hours after he left. It was during this time that I
dreamed. I don't remember what about, exactly. But there were a lot of cats and
loud, blaring horns. A cat rapture, perhaps?

     
When I got up
again, I felt pretty lazy. But after a fruit smoothie, a leftover piece of
brownie, and an episode of
The Magic School Bus
, I felt ready to go for
the day.

     
I would be lying
if I said I wasn't suddenly inspired by Ms. Frizzle's quirky genius. But even
as an artist who admired outlandishness, I didn't think it would do well to
show up at the Luxadigm with orange hair, covered in the solar system.

     
The silhouette
of her dress I could probably get away with, though. I glanced out the window
at the pouring rain.
Perfect
. From my closet, I grabbed one of my
vintage finds: a navy blue dress. It was sleeveless and, of course, fitted at
the waist with a long A-line skirt that was lined with enough tulle that I
wouldn't need a petticoat. When I had first bought it, I'd had to take it in a
few inches, add a zipper, and fix the hemline so it would fit me. All worth it
for the way it looked on me now.

     
Rather than
sticking to Ms. Frizzle's hairstyle, I pulled mine into an updo inspired by the
sixties.
Inspired
because there was no way I was going to do an actual
beehive. It was thick and clean, though. Within minutes, I went from a
sort-of-semi-inspired-quirky-elementary-school-teacher to Audrey Hepburn.
So
it would be one of those days…
Well, sometimes that kind of thing just
happened when it came to fashion.

     
I was feeling
so good that I even threw on a garter to hook to my stockings. After digging
through the corner of my closet to produce a pair of matching pumps, I put on a
black dress-coat and decided to call for a cab. I loved walking in the rain, but
I wasn't about to get my hair ruined after going through all the trouble of
fixing it.

 

 

     
The day passed
at an easy pace as I continued working on my angels. I wondered if I should
have been naming them all. Probably not the best idea since the only name that
struck me as suitable for the one I was currently working on was Bobo. Cute,
but not cool like the angel itself.

     
For almost the
entire time, I had music playing. I even sung along, sure that no one would be
able to hear me. I had already tested how high I could put the volume by
playing it and leaving the room to listen from the corridor. It seemed that as
long as the door was shut, there would be no problem.

     
I ate my packed
lunch in the break room. The rain had been falling nonstop throughout the day.
It did make painting a bit of a pain since the sky was my only source of light.
At some point, I was going to have to find some other form of lighting.

     
After a few
stretches and a bathroom break, I went back to work. I had been extra careful
about not letting paint anywhere near my dress. I didn't even get any on my
apron. But my face was another matter, as always. I guess it was just
unavoidable.

     
I was debating
how to texturize the wings when I got a text from Ethan a few minutes before
five-thirty:
Things ran a little late and there's traffic. I probably won't
be there for another 30 minutes.

     
Personally, I
thought it was fun leaving the building after six, as by then it had
practically emptied out. It was like having a museum all to myself.

     

Oh.

     
Suddenly, I was
hit with an idea.

 

     
Will you be
finished when you come back? - Me

 

     
Yes. I just
need to pick up some papers from my desk and then we can leave. - Ethan

 

     
Can I wait in
your office? - Me

 

     
Of course. -
Ethan

 

     
As I put my
phone away, I prayed that he would be alone when he returned. Then I quickly
removed my apron, got cleaned up, and went to wash the paint off my face. When
I had all my things, I headed straight towards his office. It was now after
five-thirty and Patricia had already gone home, thankfully. After closing the
door behind me, I moved to drop off my purse and coat onto one of the armchairs
by the sofa, then began looking everywhere, carefully examining every single
shelf in the area until I finally spotted it. A dock for my iPod. This way I
wouldn't have to bring mine in.

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