Watercolor (5 page)

“I need to speak to you,” he said in a lower voice. “Did you bring the
other
item?”

I knew at once he meant the letter. “I’m sorry,” I said, looking down. “There wasn’t a way…”

“Dad?” Lucy was back. “B.J.’s here, so you’re free of me.”

His expression was still stern, but he kissed his only daughter’s temple. “I’m staying a little longer.” He seemed to be avoiding looking at her. “There are some people here I want to speak to.”

“Well, thanks for the ride,” she said in a small voice. Watching them was heartbreaking. I wanted to believe things were improving between them, but I couldn’t tell.

Mr. Kyser turned to go, but he paused. “Are you still working for the paper?”

“Yes, sir,” I nodded.

“Good,” was all he said before leaving me and going to the bar.

I shook my head and wandered off to find Julian. He was with his mother looking at one of the photographs of his work. Ms. LaSalle wore a long, red dress, and her dark brown hair hung loosely down her back. Her dark eyes glowed, and everything about her was relaxed and happy. She smiled at her only child as if he had just risen to national prominence.

“I’ve got a few more minutes,” he told me, slipping his arm around my waist.

“Hi, Ms. LaSalle,” I said.

“Anna, I’ve told you to call me Alex.”

I shook my head. “I know, but it’s too weird.”

Julian nodded then gave me a squeeze. “That guy’s signaling me to go out front for the whole unveiling thing. You want to hang with Mom?” I agreed, and he pulled my hair back, kissing my neck loudly before walking away.

I glanced back at his mom, my cheeks hot. “He’s so crazy,” I said with a little laugh.

She just shook her head, but once he was gone, her expression grew more serious. “Thank you, Anna,” she said in a lower tone. “I’m sure it’s difficult being with him, knowing what you know. But I appreciate your silence.”

“I promised you I wouldn’t tell him. But I wish you would.”

A server passed by, and she lifted a champagne flute from his tray. “He would only be hurt by the truth,” she said, taking a sip.

Just then the school’s director called for our attention. We all went outside to the front lawn where a large white sheet was draped over a huge figure. It was a beautiful night, still warm but with a slight breeze. The director was making a speech about the importance of supporting local art and the spirit of youth, about Julian’s talent and his embodiment of the spirit of local youth. My eyes wandered through the crowd as he spoke.

Mr. Kyser stood near the back holding a drink and talking to another man who looked about his age. Lucy stood with B.J., who had his arm across her shoulders. My eyes rose to the side of the center, which was covered in several large murals of athletes engaged in different sporting events, and I was distracted when everyone began clapping and the veil over Julian’s runner dropped. I quickly pulled out my camera and took a shot of him shaking hands with Dr. Konrad.

The runner was one of Julian’s most imaginative pieces. It had a motorcycle wheel for a head, complete with fender, which served as a helmet. The quads were bicycle chains with sprockets for knees. Exhaust-pipes formed the arms and levers made up the lower legs. The hands were shaped from copper tubing and the entire statue leaned forward at an angle. It looked as if it were frozen pushing off from the starting peg, and you could almost hear the pistol firing. It was enormous, and I tried to imagine how much work it had been for him welding it together. Using the torch his father had sent for his birthday.

The clapping subsided, and Julian hopped off the platform, making his way to where we were standing. A dull roar grew from low voices all speaking at once, and the crowd started moving again.

“So there you go,” he said, tossing an arm across my shoulders. “Young America, local art, and all that.”

“You’re definitely in the club now.” I laced my fingers in his.

Mr. Kyser walked over to us with the man I’d noticed him talking to during the speech. “Congratulations, Julian,” he said in a serious tone.

Julian straightened up, lowering his arm.

“I wanted to introduce you to an old friend of mine,” Mr. Kyser continued, “Chris Irvine of Studio 909 in Sterling. I was telling him you might have some pieces for his gallery.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Julian said quickly, stepping forward to shake hands. “Thanks for coming out.”

Mr. Kyser stepped over and put his hand on Julian’s shoulder. “Chris this is my… ah…”

My eyes widened, and I almost choked when he hesitated.
Was he about to introduce Julian as his son?
Ms. LaSalle appeared, pulling me away from the group.

“Anna, are you okay?” she said, her voice stern.

I nodded, and Julian hadn’t noticed.

“My friend?” Mr. Kyser continued as if nothing had happened. “Would that be correct to say, Julian?”

“Yes, sir,” Julian answered. “I mean, sure.”

“This is great stuff,” Mr. Irvine said. “Here’s my card. You call me when you have some pieces ready for me. Bill’s always been a good client. I’d be glad to carry your work.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to Ms. LaSalle, but her expression was annoyed. I was completely flustered. “Do you mind if I take your picture? It’s for the Fairview paper.”

“Sure!” Julian stood between his mom and Mr. Kyser with Mr. Irvine over to the right. I couldn’t wait to make a print of this one.

The rest of the night was more of the same. Julian was introduced to gallery owners and civic leaders, and I stood by smiling and snapping pictures of him and them and his work. After another hour, I looked around and Mr. Kyser was gone. I didn’t see Lucy anywhere, and I couldn’t even spot Ms. LaSalle in the crowd.

Finally, Julian was back by my side. “You ready to get out of here? I’m dead.”

“You sure?” My forehead wrinkled. “I don’t want you to miss anyone.”

“I stopped remembering names an hour ago,” he said under his breath.

I giggled as we slipped out of a side exit in the back.

“I think we stayed long enough to get you launched,” I said as we jogged to his car. The parking lot was emptying.

“I guess. I don’t know.” He looked back at the huge structure. “At least Earl looks cool out front.”

“Earl?” My nose wrinkled. “Is that what we’re calling him?”

Julian shrugged. We were at his car, and he leaned back against it. “I got bored during that speech, and I decided he deserved a name. I was torn between Raphael and Earl.”

I leaned beside him, and we studied the far-off center with its new lawn ornament. “I think he’s more a Raphael myself with that motorcycle head.”

“Yeah, but this is south Alabama.” Julian pushed away from the car, opening my door. “He’s got to be Earl.”

I climbed into the car and watched as Julian jogged around and did the same. He pushed the key into the starter, but again, nothing happened when it turned.

I pressed my lips together. Two more tries, and still nothing.

“What’s wrong?” I asked quietly.

“Don’t know,” he said, trying again.

“Should we call your mom?”

He sat back, dropping his arm. “She left a half hour ago. She’ll be almost home by now.”

He opened the door and got out to lift the hood. I got out and went around to stand beside him, but the metal pans and black tubes were a mystery to me.

“Scotty and Blake put this thing together,” he said, irritation growing in his voice. “They’d know what to do.”

“But you know how to work on cars, right?” I studied his face.

“I can change the oil, but I’m a welder,” he said, slamming the hood. “I don’t know shit about this stuff.” He looked around. “And everything’s closed.”

For a moment, we stood in silence, thinking. The sound of the bay was a quiet whisper not too far away, and I hated his big night ending this way. I was just pulling out my phone to call my dad when he stopped me.

“Hang on.” He caught my hand. “Do you know how to pop a clutch?”

My forehead lined. “Do what?”

He pulled me back around to the driver’s side. “It’s a standard.”

“So?”

I watched him open the door and reach inside before standing up again. “So we can get it rolling and then pop the clutch to start it.”

“I’ve never even heard of that.”

Julian put his hands on top of his head and looked at me. “Then I’ll have to do it. But I’ll need you to push.”

My eyes blinked my confusion. “You want me to push your car?”

He frowned and rubbed his hand across his eyes. “Look, I’m really sorry about this, but it’s the only way we’re going to get home at this point. I’ll get it on an incline and help you, but I’m going to need you to push it to get it up to speed.”

Laughter bubbled in my throat. “You know, this is exactly how I imagined this night going. You and me, hob-knobbing with the big wigs, pushing your car back to Fairview…”

“Dammit, Anna.” I could tell he was getting pissed, so I bit my lip, swallowing my laugh.

“I’m sorry,” I said, putting my hands on the car. “I will say I sure am glad I changed out of that skirt. Lord knows I wouldn’t want to be tripping on my hem while pushing the G-ride.”

Julian growled and pulled me to him. Then he pressed his lips against mine in a rough kiss that stole my breath. “Shut up,” he said. I held his shoulders, eyes closed, fighting my smile. He pressed his forehead to mine and I met his blue eyes. “Now come on. I’ll help get it rolling.”

I watched as he put a foot inside and shifted the T-bird to neutral. Then he stepped out again to help me roll it to the sloped drive that led into a strip mall.

“Run around back, and watch out,” he said. “When it starts, it’ll jerk.”

Pushing the car wasn’t as hard as it sounded with the help of gravity, and Julian got it started on the first try. I ran and jumped in as he turned the car toward home. Once we were on the road, I scooted over and put my head on his shoulder.

“I’m glad you keep it real,” I said, trying again to lighten the mood. “You don’t let all that fame go to your head.”

His jaw muscle flexed. “You’re welcome.”

“You know, I really thought you were doing the whole fake breakdown thing.” I ran my finger lightly down his flexed jaw, thinking of that awesome kiss. “To make out with me or something.”

He exhaled. “Not in the Athletic Center parking lot.”

“Maybe once we get home?”

“Yes.” He started to relax and slipped his arm around my shoulders. “Definitely.”

Chapter 5

My eyes grew heavy as we made our way along the dark country roads headed south. We drove a while in silence, with only music playing, and the next thing I knew, Julian startled me awake.

“Dammit,” he hissed.

I jumped straight up in the seat. “What?” Then I saw we were parked in front of my house. Everything was quiet.

“I just killed the engine,” he said, banging the steering wheel. “There’s no way I’m getting it started again.”

He turned the key and the starter simply made noises without engaging. “If it was the battery, it wouldn’t make that sound. Something more is wrong.”

“Just spend the night here,” I said, pulling his arm. “You can sleep on the couch. Mom and Dad won’t care, and maybe Dad can look at it with you tomorrow.”

He glanced up at my dark house. “I don’t know…”

“What else are you going to do?” I scooted over and opened my door. “Walk home? Mom would have a fit.”

Julian followed me inside, and I went to the closet to pull out blankets and sheets. He helped me make up the couch, and I grabbed a pillow for him to use. Once the bed was made, I rose to my tiptoes and kissed his lips.

“Text your mom. I’m going to bed,” I said as he caught my hands. Then he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to him for a better kiss.

My fingers traveled to his shoulders then into his soft, dark hair. His warm lips parted mine, and our tongues curled together, sending chills flashing all the way to my toes. My fingers tightened on his neck, and he held me closer against his chest.

“I’ll be up in a minute,” he said against my lips.

My protest disappeared in another hot kiss, and I considered the possibility. Sure, Mom and Dad would freak if they caught him in my bed, but with his mouth pushing mine open and our tongues entwined, I didn’t care. I imagined sleeping with him, our limbs following our tongues’ lead…

Then he abruptly pulled back. “You’d better head up before I forget your parents are in the house.”

I leaned in for one more quick kiss before whispering goodnight and jogging quietly up the stairs. My overheated body certainly didn’t have a problem forgetting about my parents. I heard Julian softly call my name as I got to the top, and I stuck my head back down.

“Still my angel?” he whispered.

“Mm-hm,” I nodded, smiling.

In my room, I quickly changed and slid between the sheets. I was so tired, I didn’t even turn on the lamp and in an instant I was asleep. It seemed like I had just closed my eyes when I felt a gentle touch on my cheek.