Page 16 of The Maverick (WaterFyre Rising #7)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

VANESSA

I placed my water pitcher down and walked over to peek through the peephole.

“Hi, Adam.” I opened the door and smiled at my studio neighbor.

“I saw the light on and knew you were working. Want to go out to lunch?”Adam grinned, running a hand through his mop of messy blond hair.

He’d asked me out twice, but I’d declined. I didn’t have the energy to start a relationship. My experience with Emmanuel had forced me to take a break from trusting men.

But you trust Attikus.

He was different. We werein business together, not a personal relationship.

“Sorry, I need to work on a painting.” I glanced over my shoulder. “I’m behind on my work.”

“Well, you gotta eat to continue, right?” He tucked his hands into his jean pockets.

“I can’t.”

He smirked. “Why not?”

“Because she has a date with her fiancé.” Attikus’s voice cut through the space, dismantling whatever Adam had planned.

Adam straightened, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know Nessa was engaged.”

“Just recently.” I smiled.

“Now you know.” Attikus used his cane, ushering Adam aside to make room for him. “You can leave now.”

Adam stared at the cane, then looked up at Attikus before turning his gaze on me. “Have a good day.”

I closed the door as Attikus entered my studio and stared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to show the world that we’re in a relationship by taking my fiancée out to lunch.” He glanced around my studio. “And I’d like to know what my fiancée does during the day.”

He walked over and stared at several of my paintings I hadn’t brought out to the gallery.

“Perhaps next time you should give me a heads up that you’re coming.”

“I did. I texted you.”

With furrowed eyebrows, I walked over to my phone on the desk and glanced at his text.

Attikus: I’m heading over. Let’s go to lunch.

He’d sent it five minutes ago, probably when he pulled into a parking spot.

I narrowed my eyes. “People usually give me a few hours’ notice—if not days—when they want to have lunch with me. But then again, you didn’t ask.”

“I’m not most people.” He lifted a shoulder. “I rearranged my schedule to have lunch with my fiancée. And I assume she would drop everything to accommodate me. Why? Because we are in love .”

He emphasized it with an expression that made me want to slap and kiss him.

Kiss him? Where did that ridiculous idea come from?

The dream about him flashed across my mind, and my body betrayed me. The powerful sensations from last night surfaced, making me remember everything .

It was only a dream. Get over it.

He ambled over to a dark lotus painting I hadn’t finished and crossed his arms, studying it. “Who is this painting for?”

His straight posture demanded attention. For a moment, I forgot he had a cane. I glanced around and saw it leaning against the wall. Did he always need the cane? Had he tried to walk without it?

Why so many questions, Vanessa?

I blinked at my curiosity. It was none of my business. Why was I focusing on his injury? Perhaps it was because he was a gorgeous man despite those flaws. I’d never seen anyone enhanced by a cane the way he was. The cane became a fascinating accessory.

Oh, my gosh. Something was truly off with me. I was an artist, so random things fascinated me, but a cane? That was like admiring a doorknob or a crack on the street when I should admire a tranquil landscape, a lovely sunset, or a bouquet of flowers.

Swerving my attention elsewhere, I studied his light green long-sleeved shirt. He was wearing it with the sleeves rolled up to his forearm over dark jeans, looking as gorgeous as he did in a powerful suit.

I didn’t know why, but I liked the light green on him.

It made him appear more carefree, less intense.

Green was the color of nature, where things grew at their own pace.

At this moment, he represented an enigmatic tree standing tall, having an interesting relationship with his environment.

I could see him as the CEO of Healthy Horizon.

He flicked me a look that I felt in my core.

Then I remembered his question. “It’s not for sale.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

His lips lilted. “That’s not a good reason.”

“It’s reason enough.”

I expected him to pressure me, but he didn’t. “There’s a lot of pain immersed in it.”

Of all the comments he could have said, I didn’t expect that. He had seen through the colors and textures—right into the depth of the painting. My heart raced, and a sliver of fear slid down my back. No one had read my art like that. No one.

I stared at him, and he stared back.

A silent conversation occurred between us. The dialogue wasn’t conveyed through words, but an energy exchange that I couldn’t explain. It was as though we both knew what the other was thinking and feeling, but we respected each other’s privacy enough not to push any further.

I felt like a botanist examining the biology and ecology of a unique plant—what made up this interesting man who pulled at me in various ways?

He was probably doing the same to me. This was something I had to contemplate later.

I’d never wanted anyone trespassing into my private sanctuary.

It was too dangerous. I had too many secrets.

Changing the topic, I said, “Five minutes is not enough time to give someone a heads-up.”

“As my fiancée, you should always be ready to have lunch with me.”

“That’s an arrogant statement.”

“Is it?” He leveled a stare at me. “I find it to be an accurate statement.” He gestured to me. “We’re playing a role, and you should practice how to be my fiancée so people won’t question our relationship.”

Was he taking this marriage too seriously?

“I don’t think people will care about that.”

He pursed his lips. “Most won’t. But the man who’s blackmailing you will .

The entire purpose of this fake marriage is to make him believe you’re mine, so he’ll leave you alone.

Your ex will question our relationship if the media writes articles about how Attikus Mount—the museum owner—and his wife don’t appear to be in love.

” His eyes flashed with amusement. “I’m just trying to cover the bases. ”

Once again, he was annoyingly right. Why hadn’t I thought everything through like him?

He walked over to my counter and grabbed a paintbrush from a container, twirling it between his fingers. Wandering to the table full of plants and seedlings, he examined the string of pearl plants sitting at the top of a bookcase.

“Interesting plant,” he said, glancing up at my potted pitcher plant hanging from a rope hooked to the ceiling. “What is it?”

“It’s a carnivorous plant. It eats bugs.”

I stared at him, wondering what else I could say. We could probably spend all day standing in my studio debating on why sending a text telling someone you’re coming over five minutes before arrival was inconsiderate.

But then I realized this was a billionaire who didn’t have to follow anyone’s rules. People changed their schedules around him .

Still, that didn’t make me feel any better. I was his fiancée now. Perhaps he should adjust his schedule to accommodate me .

“I assumed my considerate fiancée would give me more notice, knowing how busy I am.” I turned and grabbed my purse. “Where are we going?” I wanted to get this over with so I could go back to my painting.

“Wherever you want.”

I arched my eyebrows. Attikus didn’t seem like a man who didn’t have a plan. But at this moment, it appeared his visit to my studio was a spontaneous decision.

An idea popped into my head. I might as well make use of being engaged to one of the wealthiest men in the world.

“Let’s go to Saigon Bistro. I haven’t been there in a while.”

My mom and I used to love going there for authentic Vietnamese food.

Attikus just said. “Okay.”

As we walked out onto the street, he took my hand. Surprised, I looked over at him.

“We’re supposed to be engaged. Smile, people are watching across the street.”

I glanced over as two women quickly looked away with cell phones in their hands. A third woman with light brown hair stood off to the side by a parking meter, staring at us. I blinked at the familiar face as unease churned in my stomach.

“How do people even know about us? We only had the discussion yesterday.”

“My PR team informed a few friends from the media who told their friends. Things spread like wildfire when you know the right people.”

Curious, I paused in my steps and dug out my phone from my purse.

My social media accounts on Real Rumors and DailyThoughts had grown to over ten thousand followers overnight! I was tagged in several posts on DailyThoughts and clicked on the one at the top, which indicated it had been shown to the most people.

MirandaNews had an image of my art gallery.

Billionaire Attikus Mount is engaged to artist Nessa Lambert after a whirlwind romance.

But then someone sent his fiancée a severed finger to her gallery opening!

I gaped at the comments.

What could this mean?

Is it her ex?

Does she have enemies?

Is someone giving her the finger?

Did someone dare give Attikus the finger?

I switched to Real Rumors to see the same viral post from MirandaNews.

“Oh. My. God. I can’t believe this.” I wanted to laugh and cry. “This has grown into some monstrous narrative.”

“The media are a manipulative business.” He grabbed my phone, turned it off, and dropped it into my purse as though it were his.

“Hey! What are you doing?” I fumed.

“Trying to take your mind off irrelevant things.”

My chest heaved. “It has everything to do with me.”

Why was he so calm about this?

What else would MirandaNews say next? She had over five million followers—more than my art account. Miranda could ruin me. Would she recognize me? I’d grown up since elementary school.

“You’re having lunch with your fiancé. You should focus on me rather than working, right, darling?” Attikus kissed my forehead as Miranda approached.

I inhaled a breath as my body tensed with shock. The past flashed before me. Miranda looked the same as when she bullied me in elementary school.She wore a casual blazer over a pink shirt with jeans.

“Attikus,” she said in a tone that told me she knew him. “It’s so good to see you. Is this your lovely fiancée?” She looked at me and smiled. “Your art is stunning, by the way. I saw it at Attikus’s museum.”

“Miranda, this is Nessa.” He interlaced his fingers with mine. “Miranda has been a big supporter of the Mount Museum.”

What a small world to encounter a childhood bully who had dated my fake husband.

“Do you mind if I take a photo of you for MirandaNews?”

Attikus looked at me. “It’s better to see our pics on Miranda’s social media page than some other random person’s.”

Miranda offered me a warm smile. She didn’t recognize me.

I looked over to where the two women had taken our pictures earlier, but they’d already left.

Something else was going on behind the scenes, and I hated not knowing the truth. What game was he playing? If we were getting married, I needed to know everything.

When Miranda looked at him, something passed between them. Why the hell was I jealous? What was wrong with me?

This haughty man had taken the reins of my life without my permission. The audacity! I was infuriated with him, stressed about my mom’s situation, and now I had to deal with this sudden jealousy squirming inside me like a parasite. My life was becoming a massive mess.

Smiling, I extracted my hand from his grip, slipped my arm around his waist, and posed. Attikus wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

“Smile, Attikus,” Mirandasaid. “Perfect.” She snapped a few pictures and showed them to us.

“Send them to my phone, please.”

“Got it.” She studied me in my paint-splattered shirt and jeans. “How did you meet?”

“We bonded over art and conversation. She’s a unique woman,” he replied, even though she had addressed the question to me.

“He wouldn’t leave me alone,” I smirked and met Miranda’s curious eyes. “How did you and Attikus meet?”

Her face changed to an awkward expression, and he squeezed my shoulder. “We should get going.”

Miranda waved at Attikus. “I’ll catch you later.” She walked across the street and down the sidewalk.

“Not sure I want to go to lunch now.”

“Why?” he asked.

“To avoid meeting another one of your exes.”