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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ATTIKUS

I sat inside my office,staring at my computer and wondering what Vanessa was doing. Was she asleep or unpacking?

Today had revealed a lot of profound things. So many emotions packed into one day didn’t serve me well.

My meeting with Detective Farmer had placed me in a sour mood. The research into Ashton Lindor had become complicated. How was he linked to my high school principal?

Despite the stress tugging at me, when I got home and found Vanessa waiting for me in my kitchen, it did something to me. Her presence changed the energy in my home and transformed everything around me.

It was as though she brought a fresh perspective that illuminated my portrait in a new light.

Picking up a pencil, I twirled it around my finger and grinned, remembering what I’d overheard when I went to her suite after I took Detective Farmer’s call. I wanted to inform her I’d be out, but then I heard her mention me to someone.

Anyone would pause and listen if they heard themselves mentioned in a conversation, right? It was a natural reaction. Though she had closed the door, I could hear her perfectly. I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but I couldn’t help it when she admitted her attraction to me.

After I heard that, I walked away with a smile and a plan forming in my head. What would it take for her to admit she wanted me?

I loved the way she blushed, trying to hide her attraction.

You have a contract with her. Respect it.

But I wanted her to break a rule. When that happened, I’d propose something else to her.

A strange sensation overcame my body. It was something I hadn’t felt in years—not since that day when hope became a tiny ember in the ashes.

Tingles rushed down my fingers as I held the pencil. The desire to sketch coursed through me. My right hand shook from this profound revelation. This was the new beginning I hadn’t thought was possible.

I took out a new sketchbook and pressed the pencil to the paper. Magic occurred, and I immersed myself in that bubble. Two hours later, I stared at Vanessa’s beautiful face.

She had inspired me to sketch again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

VANESSA

I wokeup at five the next morning without an alarm. I was a morning person, but based on my fatigue yesterday, I should have slept until six or seven in the morning. Feeling motivated to complete my For Your Heart Only mission, I walked into the bathroom—which was bigger than my entire apartment—to wash up. I brushed my hair, but it wasn’t doing what I wanted, so I sprayed on some leave-in conditioner and added curlers. This usually tamed the frizz.

Usually, I wouldn’t care what I looked like, but I wanted Attikus to see the best version of me today. A first impression was important, especially to my fake fiancé, who owned a museum filled with extraordinary art. He knew what it took to impress.

I glanced at my planner. Unlike most people these days who used online planners, I preferred my physical planner. I liked the tangible touch. An artist knew the difference between using a Photoshop paintbrush versus a real one. The organic touch of the real thing connected me to nature—back to the basics. There was nothing wrong with digital art. I’d created amazing art withit many times, and it helped with my social media graphics. But I preferred to walk in the woods rather than on a treadmill.

I flipped through my planner, crossing off the things I had completed, and reviewed what needed to be worked on. I’d finishedThree Roads Diverged in a Dark Woodand sent it off. That custom piece had earned me two hundred thousand dollars. I still had the painting to do for the First Lady. I didn’t like any of the rough sketches I’d drawn of her. Why wasn’t I inspired? This wasn’t good. I had to deliver a unique portrait of her. Maybe some time off to clear my head would help me start fresh.

It was only five forty-five when I opened my bedroom door and peered out as though I didn’t belong in the house. Attikus was probably still asleep. I walked down the hallway to the room he’d turned into an art studio for me. I only brought what I needed to work and some blank canvases. The studio was spacious, with a lot of natural lighting. One side was all glass, allowing me to look out at a blooming garden.

I walked over to the sliding door and opened it, allowing the fresh air to enter. I remembered I’d brought some flip-flops with me. Rushing back to my room, I dug out a pair of green flip-flops and wore them out into the garden. I had no idea why I’d brought them with me. Apparently, my subconscious mind knew I’d need them.

Sometimes, I loved walking barefoot on the grass, but I didn’t want dirt in my new art studio. But as soon as I stepped onto the stone path, I realized there wasn’t dirt anywhere. It was stone, mulch, and grass. The private yard was fenced off with a locked gate. This was my private oasis, where I could paint or do whatever I wanted. I twirled as if I wore a dress, but I was still in my cotton T-shirt and knit pants.

Mid-May weather meant the sun rose early. I glanced up at the warm pink sky and smiled. It was going to be a wonderful day. I walked around admiring the daffodils and tulips.

“Thank you for your beautiful colors.” I blew kisses at them, imagining them giggling at me.

Skipping along the stone path to the gate, I unlocked it and walked into a larger yard. Someone had tended to the grass and plants by adding brown mulch to the area. I spotted the greenhouse I’d seen yesterday. It had solar-like panels on the roof. I approached and saw a metal box attached to the side of the wall. Opening it, I saw a keyboard. Closing the box, I surveyed the textured glass wall that wrapped around the space. Something about the design and textured glass made it appear more advanced.

I yanked the door, and it opened. Stepping inside, I browsed the tables, racks, and displays. There were no seedlings. Just empty trays with a variety of seeds and gardening tools spread out on a table. What was he planting? Why hadn’t he started?