Overture (Rain Dance, Book 1) (Rain Dance Series) (67 page)

     
A second later,
Ethan closed his eyes and returned to eating, allowing me the chance to start
breathing again. "Sorry," he said. "Which reminds me - I wasn't
able to tell you how utterly delightful you looked yesterday. Dresses really do
suit you."

     
Was
he
changing the subject now? Hang on… "How do you know what I wore
yesterday?"

     
"I saw you
come in with Douglas, of course."

     
"Oh…Well,
thank you." Subtly, I began scoping the walls of his office for a clock.

    
 
"You aren't going anywhere, Kitten.
There's still plenty of time left," he said smoothly, the corner of his
mouth curving upwards.

     
Was I really
that obvious or had he just learned to read me?

     
"Stop
chewing on your lip and finish eating. Or would you like me to feed you
myself?"

     
Under normal
circumstances, I might've laughed and answered with a yes. But at the moment,
his superior attitude only served to spark something within me. It was an
undercurrent of annoyance that zapped through my tendons, making me flex my
fingers with the urge to strike out. Not necessarily at him, but at something.
It wasn't a feeling I was used to. Rather than act on it, I instead picked up
my fork and scooped up a chunk-full of waffle. Opening my mouth as wide as
possible, I savagely bit into the food, chewing as loudly as I could, all while
putting on my best bitch-face.

     
Ethan simply
watched me, obviously amused. That only pissed me off even more.

     
"Are you
going to tell me what's wrong?" I finally asked.

     
The small gleam
in his eyes instantly dimmed.
What'll it be, Spook?
After a long pause,
he answered, "Later."

     
So he
did
plan on sharing. I nodded and continued eating as I normally would, appeased.

     
"…That
easy, huh? For a second I thought you were going to start throwing
punches."

     
I shrugged.
"I know better than to be disrespectful while on your turf."

     
He arched a
brow. "My
turf
? So if we were back at the apartment-"

     
"Dale's
got complete ownership of the apartment," I interrupted him. "It'd be
inappropriate to commit any acts of violence there. Anyway, I'd never start
beating on you unnecessarily. Like I'd ever want to give you a justified reason
to kick my ass."

     
"Daphne," he called softly. "I already told you that
wouldn't happen."

     
I kept my
attention focused on the food in front of me. It was way too early for this
kind of talk. "Hey, wanna hear about the time I slummed it with some
ghosts?"

    
 
After an extended moment of silence, I
finally peeked up at Ethan. He was smiling at me with eyes so warm, I was hit
with a sudden wave of nostalgia. My body began humming in the way that it used
to whenever I'd snuggle up underneath a blanket with some hot chocolate after
walking home from work in the freezing cold.

     
Reaching over,
I tentatively took one of his hands between mine and brought it to my face,
where I held it for a few seconds. Closing my eyes, I nuzzled my cheek against
the silky smoothness of his skin. I couldn't thank him for making me feel this
way without crying - not with words, so I simply turned his hand over and
kissed the underside of his wrist before setting it back onto the table.

     
Then I
proceeded to tell my story. "So I was living in Oregon at the time. I was
going for a walk when I came across an abandoned cabin. It was dark, lopsided,
the windows were busted, and I swear it looked like it literally just popped
out of a horror flick."

     
He played
along. "...I'm assuming it was in the woods?"

     
"That's
right," I nodded. "It was nearing nighttime and my phone was dead, so
I-"

     
"Why were
you in the woods at that time?" he interjected.

     
"Like I
said, I was going for a walk."

     
"I heard.
What were you doing out there at such a late time? Why not earlier?"

     
I pressed my
lips together, now wishing that I had used another story. "Actually, I
went in the morning and ended up getting lost, but that's besides the
pointed," I spoke quickly before trying to pick up from where I'd left
off. "I could use the sun to find my way back to the trail, so it was just
a matter of making it through the night. Either I could chill outside with the
bugs and the bears or take my chances on-"

     
"Why
didn't you use the sun to keep you from getting lost in the first place?"
He sat with his hands folded in front of his mouth. The warm smile he'd been
giving me was gone, now replaced by a disapproving gaze.

     
"…There
were too many clouds. I couldn't find it." When I thought he was done, I
tried to go on, only for him to interrupt me again.

     
"And what
would you have done if the next day ended up being the same? What the hell even
possessed you to go off the trail?"

     
I exhaled and
went back to eating. "Jeez, you buzzkill. Don't you wanna hear about the
ghosts?"

     
"I don't
believe in ghosts," he stated firmly. "Now, axe murderers and escaped
convicts who might wander into the woods in search of a safe place to hide -
those
I believe in."

     
"Okay, but
what about demons?" When he said nothing, I went on,
"...Extraterrestrials? Fairies? Wizards, vampires, werewolves, or zombies?
Anything
?"

     
He remained
silent, staring at me impassively.

     
"I don't
think we can be friends, Mr. Desmond." Shaking my head, I bit into my
food.

     
"…Angels," he said after a minute.

     
I lifted my
gaze from the plate in front of me and eyed him warily. "You believe in
angels?"

     
"Having
seen one for myself, I can say that they do, in fact, exist."

     
Slowly, I broke
into a grin. "You and I can be best friends."

     
When it got
close to the time when Patricia would be coming in, I decided to leave. He
kissed me goodbye at the door.

     
"Take a
cab directly home when you've finished," he ordered.

     
I felt my heart
tighten in response to his tone, and not in the good way.
But if he actually
thought I was in danger, he probably wouldn't let me go home by myself. Right?
Well,
whatever it was that was bothering him, I would find out soon enough.

     
"Thank you
for breakfast and the lunch," I said gratefully. "Hope the rest of
your day goes well, and I hope the fundraiser isn't too tedious." I pulled
him down to peck him on the cheek and then quickly made my way towards my safe
haven before anyone could see me.

     
At this point,
there was no use in hiding our relationship. It was, however, very important to
not make it so obvious. Some people knew, and that couldn't really be helped.
But for those who only suspected…Well, if it wasn't safe for the public to know
about us, then it probably wasn't a good idea to make a point of proving those
rumors that Ethan's aunt had talked about as correct.

     
With my
newfound knowledge of Ethan's actual wealth, it really did come as a surprise
that no one had caught us together. At least I assumed that no one had since he
hadn't mentioned anything about it.
Hm…Maybe I should've been keeping an eye
on that kind of thing - checking online for any possible inside scoops and stuff.

     
Once safely
with my angels, I kicked off my pumps, put my apron on, turned on some music,
and began setting up my supplies.

     
As the first
few hours of morning passed, I realized that Ethan had been right about the
weather. It rained non-stop, and I had to use the floor lamp since the numerous
amount of clouds prevented any proper lighting from entering the room.

     
It was one of
the earliest times I'd ever begun working and I had to admit that, despite not
being a morning person, I felt more awake than I normally did when coming in. I
wondered if I would be able to keep up with the whole nine-to-five schedule
after I moved on from the project. Probably not since I would no longer have
any reason to leave the apartment.

     
I took my lunch
break at half-past noon. Ethan had gotten me a meal that was much more filling
than my usual sandwich. I didn't want to finish it all in fear of food coma
taking over and stunting my ability to continue working, so I put the leftovers
back in the fridge.

     
As I was
getting ready to leave the break room, I received a text from Coops letting me
know that he would be out late with Samantha, so I wouldn't have to worry about
saving him any dinner if I ended up staying home. It was then that I remembered
it was a Friday. Of course they would want to stay out late. Part of me wished
that I could spend the night at Ethan's and possibly play another game with
him, but I understood that he had a job to do. With that in mind, I went back
to finishing mine.

  
   
Finally, I'd gotten around to doing the facial
features on the little cherubs. I took my time trying to get the soft, pink
flush of their cheeks just right. It wasn't until I was perfectly content with
how they turned out that I moved on to creating separate layers for each
individual facial segment. Originally, I had wanted them to be awake and
bright-eyed. But now, for some reason, that just didn't feel right. Instead, I
painted them sleeping, making sure that all of their closed lids were covered
with thick eyelashes. Their eyebrows arched delicately, hovering just above,
and their little pouty lips showed just the barest hint of delight - a small
gesture showcasing what they were dreaming of. I ended up finishing with their
faces much faster than planned and began working on the wings.

     
Whereas the
wings on the wall had been a joy to work on, painting authentic-looking wings
on glass while lying on my back was almost anything but. Almost. Lucky for me,
I loved wings too much to really be
that
upset. The process of texturing
every little feather took up a lot of time. Needing another break, I decided to
finish the rest of my lunch sometime after three, hoping some of the paint
would dry enough that I could attempt another layer.

     
By six, I knew
I was finished for the day. The aching pain in my arms had become too much and
I had to stop. Carefully, I took my time getting off the scaffold, not wanting
to strain any part of my body. When I was down, I looked up at my work and was
extremely pleased with how much I had accomplished. After cleaning up, I called
a cab and headed home.

     
The apartment
was dark when I walked in. After kicking off my shoes, I immediately went to go
lie down on the couch. Stretching, I began to massage what sore muscles I could
reach. As the minutes passed, I found myself growing very tired. It was only
when I began to feel the first stages of sleep starting to overtake me that I
realized I had to pee. With a sigh, I heaved myself up and off the couch to go
take care of business.

     
I was washing
my hands when I saw a big splotch of paint on the side of my neck that I'd
apparently missed when cleaning up earlier. Gently, I wiped it off with a wet
towel, annoyed to discover that it wasn't coming off the small chain of my
necklace. Pursing my lips in frustration, I unhooked the back so I could wash
it.

     
The type of
paint I'd been using was made to dry on special surfaces, which was probably
why I had such trouble getting it off. But hand soap appeared to do the trick,
so I continued using some until the chain was clean. After drying it off, I
tried to put it back on. Despite all my attempts, I couldn't hook the end
through the clasp - it was just too small. I couldn't imagine how Ethan had
done it.
Are my fingernails too long or something?
I wasn't about to
bite them off to find out, so I set the necklace down onto the counter. Someone
would have to help get it back on me later.

     
I was just
about to head into my room to change when I heard my phone buzz. I quickly went
to where it was sitting, hoping for a text from Ethan. It wasn't a text,
though. It was a warning that I only had ten percent of battery left. I
grumbled in annoyance. But as I started heading for my room again, I noticed
that I had one missed message from just a few minutes ago. It was from an
unknown number:
Why aren't you here with Mr. Billions? I was hoping to meet
with you in person, Doll.