Chasing Beautiful (Chasing Series #1) (21 page)

Smi
ling in between his soft kisses, he managed to say, “Oh yeah? Try to remember that in the next few weeks. I’ll try to get away as much as I can, but you have to understand the kind of pressure I have at the moment. I have so much to prove to my grandfather.” He paused as his eyes scanned my face. “Just remember how good it’ll be when we see each other again—”

Yes, it
will be hella crazy.

“Blake—everyone that knows you, knows how incredible you are
—your own investments have been phenomenal. I don’t doubt you for a second. And as for your
other
worries—stop, okay? You’re worrying for nothing.” I kissed his lips to assure him.

“Alright, I have to leave for Gatwick
Airport. I hate leaving you here—” he took something out of his pocket and handed me a key with an embossed golden, oriental lily with intricate pink and white diamonds around the designed keychain—it was probably about two and half inches in diameter.

I swallowed.

“Are these
real
diamonds? Blake, this must’ve cost a fortune!” I stared at him in shock.

He simply shrugged. “Y
ou’re worth it, poppet.”

I looked down at it with confusion as I traced the lily with my finger
. Sometimes I tend to forget how loaded Blake is—this keychain cost probably a fraction of his shaving paraphernalia—
but still
. We hadn’t properly dated yet.

He knew I loved this particular type of lily. The intoxicating perfumed smell and the contrasting colors of pinks
were too beautiful to explain. My insides swelled from the thought that he could remember insignificant details about me.

“This is the spare key to my apartment—
I already informed the lobby about you. It’s your second home now—I’ve been meaning to give this to you since you gave me yours, but didn’t get the chance to. I know how much you love this particular kind of lily—so, I thought it would be a nice reminder when you see it—hoping that you’ll think of me.”

“Thank you
!—it’s very sweet and a thoughtful gesture—but I don’t need a reminder of you, Blake…you’re in my thoughts all the time.”

“Good to know beca
use you’re in mine—every second.” Blake declared, getting up and kissing me one last time. We said our goodbyes and he left for the airport.

The apartment was silent without him.
I took the pillow he slept on last night and inhaled his scent, lemons and the smell of his intoxicating skin.
Maybe I should take the pillow with me when I go. Tempting.

I miss him already.

Grazing my fingertip on the lily keychain, I flipped it over and was surprised that he had it engraved.

Cradling it on my palm as I read it slowly
:

“
And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.”

I’ll be thinking of you, poppet.

It was a quote by the famous Pablo Neruda, one of my favored poets. My heart thudded as I traced the engraving.
He remembers everything that I like!
With his razor-sharp, brilliant mind, I was not surprised that he did.

But the thought of him making
an effort is a major deal.

Bubble
s of happiness coursed through my body.

He thinks of everything—and so far, I’m putty in his hands.

He just knows how to put a smile on my face.

Three days ha
d passed and I was still high on Blake and I didn’t want it to stop. It was even better than a triple chocolate cake and crème brûlée put together.

Though I’m sure if you put them all together, I would devour them all with gusto.

We’ve been relentlessly calling and texting each other. With the permit problem fixed, there was so much to be done. His schedule was punishing, but he still made time to call me every night before he went to bed.
Sweet, isn’t it?

I was walking
on cloud nine as I entered the restaurant where I was meeting Kyle for lunch. It was a block away from school so saying no to him when he invited me for lunch was not an option. He was already at a table and he stood up as I approached him.

The d
ark circles gone, his face bright and handsome as ever. He was wearing his usual get-up: jeans, shirt and his rugged Timberland boots.

He looked well.
I’m glad that his transition in the office worked out fine.

“How are you
, baby?” he kissed my cheek before I sat down. Kyle always called me baby, even before we started dating. There was some odd sense of security knowing that he was here with me. I suppose it was because he was a big part of my life growing up.

“I’m good! What about you? How’s work?” I asked before taking a sip of water.

“What’s this?” Kyle asked as his finger pointed at the folded flyer in my hand. He jovially took it. His long manly fingers pried it open.

“Y
ou’re looking for a job? Why didn’t you say so?” He peered at me as he popped an olive. 

I was staring at his mouth. Looking away a little embarrassed.

Damn, he’s still cute and sexy to boot. Are these normal reactions to your still-hot looking ex? I suppose so. I mean, it was merely a month ago since that mouth went downtown with my body.

“I don’t know what I wan
t yet. Have to see what’s available. But I want to work somewhere challenging, you know, a job that I can learn from and apply later on in life.”

“Well, why didn’t you say? I’m
interviewing for an assistant.” Kyle informed me, smiling widely.

“You’re joking, right? Why would you
need
an assistant, Kyle?” He usually does his own thing. 

“Hey
! Don’t underestimate my abilities—but you know I’ve been working for the company ever since I was sixteen. I’ve earned my position. All I’m saying is that I have a spot available—if you’re not interested—too bad,” shrugging slightly as he devoured another olive.

“
Sorry—I wasn’t underestimating your abilities—I was just surprised. Climbing up the ladder hmm? I’m happy for you. But as you can see, my class schedule is a little crazy. I don’t see how that could work.”

The waiter took
our order and placed a bottle of red wine, breadsticks and olives on the table. Kyle poured wine in our glasses. I munched on the olives and breadsticks.

I
was famished.

“The schedule’s going to be flexible. You will be working more at night when I scout during gigs or talk to bands during shifts. You only
have to go to the office once or twice a week to do some paperwork—other than that— you can send emails through your phone when I need you to get some things done.”

“Hmmm, are you sure you want me as
your assistant, Kyle?” arching my brow at him, questioning his sanity. “What if we fight all the time? What then?”

“Baby—you forget that it’s me you’re dealing with. For years, I’ve
dealt with your PMS and your mood swings.” I choked on my olive, but he kept going. “I took care of you when you were sick, held your hair as you puked your guts out over the toilet, taught you how to drive, need I say more?”   

“Fine—I
get it—when do you want me to start?” smirking up a smile.
Wonder what it’s like working with Kyle.
He was passionate about his job and I admired that.

“How does Friday night sound? I need to check out a band that’s playing in Camden.”

“Friday sounds bueno! Try not to be such a slave driver, okay?”

I
couldn’t wait to start work. I had always wondered how it would be working behind the scenes, the process, the thrill of signing a great band and I was dying to know.

“I’ll definitely tr
y not to work you to the ground baby,” he murmured softly.
I wonder if Blake would be bothered that he calls me ‘baby’?

Our food arrived and our conversation steered to his job and what he
had been up to.  Stories flowed and we chatted about the people we knew back home.

His
easy going personality made it easy for me to be comfortable with him again. If we continue with this kind of progression, our friendship will bounce back in no time. I’m confident that it will.

We parted after our lunch date and I had to scurry to The National Gallery Museum to meet my class. Today, we’re
going to learn about Botticelli and his work. I’m energized and psyched that I get to study it close-up. Last week, I was awestruck with the works of Jan van Ecyk. Especially with the
Arnolfini Marriage
illusionism painting, it was simply unique and his perfect execution of geometrical points and perception was outstanding. Not to mention his application on the reversed reflection of the mirror with immaculate detail rendered me speechless. His one-of-a-kind depiction of lighting made it extraordinary.

I was intrigued and enraptured.

Our class is small with twenty students who are all eager to learn about art and its history. When I got there, the class gathered at the far end of Trafalgar Square as our teacher, Mrs. Samantha Collins, checked her roster. She’s a charming British lady who talks animatedly with passionate alacrity for anything and everything art. Some people have the zeal for it and others are simply apathetic about the subject. I, for one, liked to be absorbed in the artist’s craftiness and mastery.

The
ir execution of their imagination in fine intricate detail—was simply gravitating. It’s like being transported and seeing it from their eyes. Their hopes, dreams, emotions, their soul—and their very being—are captured from their compelling graphic artistry. My ingénue mind keen to learn and grasp their unrivaled ingenuity.

While studying the
Venus and Mars
renaissance painting, I received a message from Blake.

What have you been up to poppet? Stuck here about to head for a meeting. I’m knackered.

I can’t help turning mushy every single time I get a message from him. I smirked when he used “knackered,” British slang for tired. I’m still learning their British colloquialism, but it’s funny how I tend to use some of them now. Chad too, but he’s been here for almost five years. He came here to study after high school and decided to stay after he graduated. He told me that once you fall for London, it’s hard to let go.

I
rushed a reply.

I’m at the National Gallery studying. Btw, I found a job! Drink up some of your beloved espressos. I’m sure that’ll help put you back in top form.

My phone beeped again.

You were looking for a job? Why didn’t you mention it, poppet? If you ever need money, just say so. Give me your banking details. I’ll have it wired to you immediately.

I almost choked on my saliva.

No, thank you. Keep your money, it wasn’t the issue. I just want to see if I can explore more and meet new people. I only have school and I hate being idle.

Luce mentioned once a few months ago how Blake would give hefty allowances to his women.
A week or a month, it didn’t make a difference since he simply spoiled them rotten. Apart from his god-like handsomeness, he was like the Roman god Plutus incarnated, squandering his wealth and lavishing his over-eager strumpets, ready and willing for him. If Blake Knightly says jump, they eagerly respond, “how high?”

I’m not bitter, much
.

Honestly, I can’t recall how many women he
’s dated since I’ve met him. There were countless of them. It’s dangerous when I think about it. A speck of doubt is a speck of venom that will surely poison our budding relationship. We’re still building our trust with each other as lovers. My mind cannot wander about in unchartered territory of doubts.

With Kyle,
I had encountered many instances where women hit on him constantly or “friends” that would try to seduce him while I was not paying attention. It was aggravating to say the least. But with Blake, it’s like comparing a gigantic lake to an ocean. Overwhelming doesn’t even cover it.