Bed of Thornes (Bed of Thornes Trilogy Book 1) (2 page)

The triple R is dreaded for me. Reveals, Reviews, Releases. It's where all my biggest clients that have yearly projects done for their major events, come together to see the reveal of the finished products and review them, to judge if they will use them. Which then entails the release of a piece of my art to the public through the form of their high-end businesses and companies. Unless they decide against it, that's where the anxiety of it all kicks in. I can't afford to lose any of these clients, they are a big deal to the keeping of my gallery in good standing as far as reputation goes. I prefer to keep them returning year after year. It's top-of-the-line marketing for my sake if they are pleased and use what I create for them. They are quite specific of what they want. My nerves kick in hardcore just thinking about it.

"Ronni, you'll do awesome, you always do!" Jenna smiles a comforting smile at me. "I know you will kill it. Don't worry so much. Is there anything I can do to ease your stress?"

"It's ok, Jen, you know how I get overwhelmed sometimes. Sorry if I took it out on you when I came in this morning. I think I need to grab a glass of wine, turn my music up in the studio, and just do what I do best... paint." I sigh, trying to let out any built up anxiousness.

"I know, sweetie, I don't blame you for being tense about everything, I would be too. But you definitely need to let out that tension before it takes over you. Go get some masterpieces started, I'll hold it down out here." She insists.

Jenna running the front desk, helping those that come in to browse, taking calls, setting up meetings and making appointments has been a huge help. How dare I think of her as if she doesn't do enough, she's here to handle the extra things that would drive me insane if I had to take care of them on top of everything I already do. I'm too hard on her, and myself. Damn I need to relax.

Without hesitation, I gather my duffle bag full of supplies and head down the hall. "Thanks babe, you're the best. If anyone calls, just take a message, I'll get to them when I'm done playing in my paint!" I shout as I near the back of the gallery, where my art studio is located. This is where I can let go, be myself. I have complete control and unrestricted freedom within these four walls. It's my escape.

I pull out the paints from my bag and begin lining them up on the tall black stand next to the easel that holds a canvas waiting to feel the strokes of my paint brushes. The piece I need to start working on is for a client that wants a portrait of his family to display in the foyer of his office. Mind you, his office foyer looks like gold vomited over every item in the room. He displays fancy pieces that he has collected over the years, all done in gold. It's a bit overdone, in my opinion, but some rich people have nothing better to do with their money I suppose. He wants a painting that represents his family, done to scale of him and his wife and children, sitting properly in perfection. It will be framed in gold. How fitting. I do what my clients request though, no matter their reason for wanting what they want.

Jenna knows that when I'm in my studio, no interruptions are allowed. I lose focus rather easily, and sometimes it's hard for me to get back into my flow if I'm disrupted. It is best is I just work my way through a project until it's completed. I refuse to start something and not finish it. Luck be it, in the middle of getting set up to begin Mr. Ross' project, a knock sound at my door. A knock loud enough to splice through my bass-boosted speaker system. I like my music loud in the studio, surrounding me. Enveloping me in melodies, beats, and lyrics. 'You Earned It' by The Weekend is playing when the knock cuts through again. Flustered, I throw my smock to the floor. Right when I was getting set up and in the mode to begin, really? Muttering profane insults to the unknown person behind the knock, I fling the door open and shout, "Seriously?!"

I freeze.

Oh. my.

"
I
'm
sorry, did I catch you at a bad time?"

I believe that I have lost my ability to speak. My salivating drool mechanism seems to be in working order however. I close my mouth and force an awkward smile, feeling ridiculous.

"You are Mrs. Thorne, correct?" He asks confused from my awkwardness I suppose.

"Ms. Thorne, not a Mrs." I spill out, feeling like I may have just come off either pathetic or desperate, neither one of them being my intention. What a first impression. I clear my throat, "And you are?"

"Sorry,
Ms.
Thorne..."

"Just Veronica is fine, no need to be formal at this point, I think I've made enough of a fool of myself for you to know that I'm not as professional as one would expect." I chuckle while invisibly kicking myself in my ass. "What did you say your name is?" I ask, trying to regain what little composure I have left.

"I didn't." He smiles. Wow. What a heaven sent smile. "Adrian Montez." He reaches out to shake my hand. Damn, his touch sends tingles down my spine. "I was sent to deliver the materials you requested from Blank Canvas." That would be my art supply store. I had Jenna place an order for me to make sure that I had all that I need to finish these projects due without having to order last minute.

"Right, right... ok, do you mind bringing them in here and setting them by the supply closet just over there?" I point in the direction of the closet, noticing I have red paint on my finger. I quickly tuck my finger into my fist. I must have touched an open tube of the paints I was laying out on the tray before the knock at the door. Oh no, I probably have it all over me. "Excuse me just a sec." I dash to my purse and grab my compact mirror.

As suspected, a big smudge of red paint on the tip of my nose. I grab a wipe and frantically rub the paint off, only making my skin itself turn red from friction. Mortified, I turn back to see Adrian with his hand over his mouth trying to stifle his laughter. I throw my face into the palms of my hands, trying to disguise my complete and utter embarrassment at this point. If only I could just start this all back over. I slowly pull my hands from my face, which is most likely beet red.

"I looked like a clown when I answered the door, didn't I?" I shyly raise my eyes to meet his.

"No, not at all, Ms. Thorne. I thought you looked like you should, an artist beautifully hard at work." He answers with what I can tell is pure honesty.

"Beautifully? I don't know about that." I laugh. "And I told you, Veronica is fine. Hell, skip the formalities." I put my hand on my forehead trying to collect myself.

"Well, Veronica, I say beautifully because to me there is nothing more beautiful in this world than a woman that is in her full glory, working diligently to create what is inside of her mind and heart, exposing her true colors of passion for the world to see."

Ok, and where has 'Mr.
Just Right
' been all my life? Hello!

"Smooth." I say, regretting it. Who knew I could be so corny?

He chuckles, "Not smooth, just truthful. If I was trying to be smooth, I would have complimented you on how the red on your nose made you cute when you angrily swung open the door. But that, Veronica, would be a cheeseball line. I just tell it how it is. Whether you accept it or not. I've always seen beauty in a woman's passion for her work."

Well I sure feel stupid.

He clears his throat a bit, "What makes you think that I was attempting to be smooth?"

"I don't know, it just slipped out. I suppose I don't know how to react to such a real compliment. You know, I get the normal 'Great work' and 'Amazing talent' that most people use quite freely in this field of work, but you're comments are one of a kind. I thought maybe it was too good to be real, I have never been told something so deep." I try to explain without putting my foot any further in my mouth, there was no room for that left.

"You'd be surprised. There's a whole world of people that are outside of the ordinary box, and have an entirely different way of seeing things other than just 'amazing'." He tells me as though he has something he wants to share with me, a life beyond the normal.

"So..." I change the tone of the conversation. "The materials?"

"Oh, yes... I'll bring them right in." He turns around and swiftly exits.

I can't believe this. Out of all the people in this city, in this world, the one person that gets sent to deliver my order is the one person I've been obsessing over for weeks now. Never knowing who he is, his name, or even that he worked for Blank Canvas. I spotted him one day jogging through the park. I was there, sketching and taking photos to get ideas for my next piece, when he jogged by and I caught him in my snapshot. I noticed him right away, he was literally breathtaking. I was captured instantly by his beautiful face and athletic body, lean muscles exposed in his sleeveless white shirt and basketball shorts he had on. His light brown skin, glistening with sweat. It was like time stopped as I watched every movement he made. I didn't want that moment to end. I watched him the remaining of the time I spent there, until he eventually jogged out of sight, leaving the park. I haven't seen him since then, until now.

The way we just officially met, was not how I pictured it to be, if we were ever to cross paths. I don't know what to do, how to act, what to say... 'Hey, by the way, I've had countless thoughts and dreams about you for a while now. I've done things to you in my mind that I've never done to anyone. Think we could fuck?' Yeah, that would be one way of getting rid of him quickly, scare the hell out of him. He would probably think I'm crazy, and that's not the only thing he doesn't know about me.

I wonder if he's single. He can't be with those looks and that charm. He probably has some young blonde, perky boobed, girlfriend. He looks young. Maybe I am completely out of my zone, who knows if he is even of age! Some kids look older than they are now days. Listen to me, worrying about his age and relationship status, I don't even know if he would be interested in someone like me, or the things that I would do to him.

"Veronica..." His voice startles my rambling thoughts. I turn around from the easel I was facing to see him with a dolly full of boxes labeled with the Blank Canvas logo.

"You want them over by the storage closet, right?" He asks.

I clear my throat. "Yes.. please." I hurry over to move a small stand in the path of his way to the closet. "Thank you so much for delivering all of this."

"No problem at all, it's my job." He removes a box from the dolly and sets it on the floor. "You sure you don't need any help putting these away?"

"Oh, no, I wouldn't have you do that. I can manage. I appreciate it though."

"Just thought I would offer, you look like you have enough to do without having to stock your supply closet." Trying to convince me to just allow him to do it.

"It's alright, really, Jenna will help me get it done before we close up tonight." I reassured him.

"Okay, Miss Independent. Have it your way." He says with a playful smile on his face. I can tell he has something else he wants to say, and after a brief and awkward pause, he continues, "So it's obvious your life is busy, and you probably have better things to do... you may even have other important prior engagements that will prevent you from attending... but I would like to invite you out with me Saturday night to watch me perform."

Don't tell me that he is a male stripper. "Perform?" I ask him curiously.

"Yeah, I sing R&B. Local shows mainly. Singing is my passion, my dream. It doesn't pay the bills, but it helps me cope from the daily grind of my day job." I can tell from his expression that it meant more to him than just a side hobby.

"I'd love to watch you perform." I say and mean it in more ways than one. "So where can I find you at on Saturday, and what time should I be there?"

"Well I was thinking, maybe you could ride with me to the spot? I promise I will take good care of you. Let you be my VIP for the night." He winks.

Damn, he doesn't even know me, and he wants to drive me to his show and treat me? I won't turn that down, it's been too long since I've been out. Oh, and he's gorgeous!

"Count me in." I smile and agree to his invitation. Wanting to jump excitedly like a 16 year old girl that just got asked to prom. I refrain from showing too much giddiness though, finally I get something right since we met. Keep it together, Veronica, you've got this.

"That's what's up. I will see you on Saturday." He says, grinning wide.

"Wait, you never told me where we are going."