Page 3 of Finding Romance (Romances in the Building #2)

CHAPTER THREE

Kasen

“You OK?” I mutter as I step back and take in this pixie of a woman.

She’s probably of average height, but the only person I know taller than me is Hutch.

I tend to think everyone is small, but she’s truly a wisp of a human.

I could bench-press her. Her dark hair is pulled up into some sort of bun on her head.

Strands are sticking in every direction.

She’s wearing some kind of dress with leggings.

Her face is, well…she’s gorgeous. Giant eyes look up at me and I study them.

One is most definitely green and the other blue.

There’s a name for that but it fails me at the moment.

She runs her hands over her dress. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I was looking for my aunt’s necklace.” She motions to the ground and my eyes follow her long slender finger.

My brows furrow as I try to figure out what she means. Is she related to Margie or Cornelia?

“Who’s your aunt?”

“Cornelia. Well, she’s my great-aunt…I mean my grandmother’s sister.

Anyhow, she hurt her ankle and I’m here to help for a bit.

I guess in all the excitement earlier she lost her necklace.

It was from her husband. It means so much to her.

I thought I might find it out here but so far no luck,” she explains as she clasps her hands together and rocks on her heels.

I look down and find her wearing Converse sneakers.

They have little cats drawn all over them. The drawings are pretty good.

“I didn’t know she had a niece,” I state as I look past her to the door. “Cornelia is injured?”

I just got home a bit ago. I had a client with a server issue and I ended up having to go to the office to fix it, which of course took the whole damn night.

“Yeah, she broke her ankle and has to get surgery,” she explains. “I’m Piper by the way.”

She holds out her hand and I shake it. Piper. The name suits her. She looks like a little sand piper, tiny and curious.

“Kasen,” I reply.

But then, her previous words hit me and I frown.

“Does she need anything?” I ask. I feel like a shit neighbor.

I’m hardly ever around. Margie and Cornelia have been great neighbors.

They are always looking out for me. If they could reach the top of my aquarium, I’m sure they’d take care of my fish when I’m gone.

“Nah. I just got her sorted. But thanks,” she says. “I should probably get back to looking.”

I glance around. “I’ll look out for it on my way downstairs,” I offer because not only do I feel bad, I’m also completely mesmerized by the beauty in front of me and my protective vibes have just kicked into high gear.

She nods. “Thanks.” She gives me a little wave as I leave.

I make it down to Grayson’s door and knock. He opens it and I step inside and immediately am greeted by a cat.

“What in the hell is that?” I ask as a black kitten rubs up against my leg.

“It’s the Loch Ness Monster.” He gives me a pointed look. “What do you think it is?”

“I mean, you got a cat?” Why has so much changed since I left? I feel like I’ve come back to a different world and it’s sort of freaking me out.

“I found her. And yes, I have a cat. The computer is over here,” he says and points to his laptop.

I sit down and start to go through his computer.

“I owe you a beer,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah,’ I mutter as I type away, looking for the issue which takes all of twenty seconds. One minute later, he’s sorted.

“You coming to happy hour this week?” Gray asks as I get up and head toward his door.

“Probably,” I reply. Honestly, I’m not sure I will. My head is all over the place. I need to take a few days and figure out some shit in my life.

“Cool. Maybe we can hit the gym tomorrow,” Gray adds as I open the door.

“I’ll be there at zero dark thirty,” I reply, fighting a smirk. Gray hates getting up early. He’s a night owl.

“Have fun, then. I’m not getting up until the sun does,” he says as I shut the door. I had been in a shit mood, but between Cornelia’s niece and Gray, I’m not feeling quite as heavy as I make my way back to my apartment and settle into my work.

* * *

I look out at the street for the tenth time in as many minutes. I need a coffee and the shit I make isn’t cutting it. The light finally comes on at the café and I see Cam opening up things.

“About bloody time,” I growl to myself as I stretch. I’ve already been to the gym, showered, drank my protein shake, and replied to five emails. My grandmother would be rolling her eyes at my coffee obsession. As much as I love a good cup of tea, I could never give up my coffee.

I pull on a shirt and head downstairs. The morning light is just starting to brighten the sky.

I have a feeling it’ll be a pretty sunrise.

Maybe I’ll go watch it from the rooftop.

I could use a moment to clear my head before I get started with my next project.

I step into the café and turn back to see Al coming out of the apartment building and looking around.

He shrugs and puts his hat on as he walks toward the park trail.

I notice someone sitting on the bench. Keeping one eye on them, I glance over to see Cam watching me as I press my hands against the counter.

“Usual?” she asks.

I nod with a grunt.

“You meet Cornelia’s niece yet?” she asks, motioning toward the bench.

I frown and look at her. “Have you?”

She nods. “I found her looking for Cornelia’s necklace on the sidewalk this morning. Said she couldn’t sleep and was going to paint. I told her to grab a drink first.”

“What’d she get?” I ask because she must have gotten it quickly since it only takes a minute for me to leave my apartment and come over here.

“Black, cream, three pumps of caramel,” she says as she hands me my coffee. She grins. “Black, cream, three pumps of simple syrup.”

Now, to be fair, I had only ever had black coffee with two sugars, but Cam made me up my game one day and it’s been my order ever since. Simple and just a little sweet.

I toss some cash down on the counter. “See you later, Cam,” I say as I leave. My legs start carrying me toward the park bench for reasons I can’t understand.

The person is still sitting there, and just as Cam said, it’s Cornelia’s niece. She turns as I approach. I notice then that the flowers are there.

“Hey,” she says, giving me a small smile.

I grunt a “hello” and she moves the flowers out of the way.

“Someone left these here. Although, I swear I remember seeing flowers here before. Weird, right?” she says as she sets the flowers to the side of the bench and pats the open area next to her.

I look over to see an easel and a painting. She’s good. She’s painting some flowers that are growing alongside the stream.

I’m not sure why, but I sit down.

“It needs more color, doesn’t it?” she says as she leans in to study her work.

“I think it’s fine,” I mutter before taking a sip. I practically moan. I missed this coffee. And I don’t miss things.

“You’re not a talker, huh?” she asks, and then quickly adds, “Not that you have to be. I like to be quiet sometimes too.”

I look over at her and she’s watching me carefully.

“I highly doubt that,” I say as I search her eyes. The pink emerging with the sun on the horizon reflects in the blacks of her eyes. She’s stunning.

She grins. “Haha. Very funny. I’ll have you know, I’ve been sitting here being very quiet for an hour now.” She pauses and points up and I look into the sky. There are big puffy clouds that are also tinged with pink.

“Michaelangelo’s time of day,” she says as if that explains something.

“I don’t understand,” I say as I look back down at her.

She sighs and leans back on the bench.

“Have you ever seen his paintings? The clouds are like this, dark on one side, light on another,” she explains as she points above us. I look up again and it’s like I’m seeing clouds for the first time. She’s right. They do look like that.

“Have you seen his paintings?” I ask as I sip my coffee again.

“Yep. I studied in Rome for a semester,” she states as she leans forward and starts working on her painting again.

I watch her in silence for a few minutes. She’s good, very good.

“Did you find Cornelia’s necklace?” I ask, breaking the calm between us.

Her shoulders slump and her hand stills. “No. Not yet. But I haven’t given up yet. I’ve even told a few people to be on the lookout,” she says before going back to painting.

I don’t know if it’s her defeated posture or her frown, but suddenly I feel like I’d do anything to cheer her up. “I’ll help you look for it,” I say before my brain can function.

“You will!” she exclaims as she stops again and turns to me.

Her brush streaks across my cheek and her mouth falls open in a perfect “O” as she gasps.

“Oh God! I’m so sorry. Here, let me…” She trails off as she grabs a towel and tries to clean my cheek.

I reach up and grab her hand with one of mine.

Damn, her fingers are so small and delicate.

“It’s OK,” I state. And the smile on her lips makes me want to do more to make her happy.

“And yes, I will. Next time you want to go look for it, knock,” I add as I get up and walk back to the apartment building before I do something even dumber than I just did.

What the hell was I thinking? Help her look for a necklace?

Since when do I do things like that? Oh yeah, never, until some artsy, happy-go-lucky beauty decides to visit her aunt.

I run a hand over my face. Why do I feel like I just made a big mistake?