Interrupted (The Progress Series) (11 page)

On my way… xx Sam

Reading the two X’s were enough to send the butterflies rattling again. She flicked her cigarette off the deck and headed back inside to put the finishing touches on her makeup.

*

“Hey,” Samuel said as Charlie opened the door.

“Hi,” she exhaled. “Come in.”

Charlie took his hand and they headed downstairs.

“So…what’s the big plan for today?” she asked.

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the St. Paul Art Crawl. It’s a—” His eyes stopped suddenly at the easel in the corner. Charlie had forgotten to take down the last project she had been working on, which was, of course, a female form in the throes of ecstasy. “Oh. Well then… I see that you know a thing or two about art, yourself.” Letting go of her hand, Samuel approached the sketch slowly, tilting his head to one side in appreciation.

“Oh, god! I’m sorry, I forgot to take that down,” she said as her cheeks flushed.

She hurried to the easel, but Samuel’s arms wrapped around her, catching her off guard. She stood in front of him with his hands carefully gripped around her forearms as they stared at the portrait.

She could feel his warm breath on her ear as they stood in silence. Trying to concentrate on her breathing, Charlie felt there was something extremely erotic about the moment. She tilted her head to one side to give him more room to tease her as she stared at the soft curves of the woman in the sketch. His thumb brushed her forearm lightly, just enough to tickle. Her sex clenched involuntarily and she could feel herself getting swept away in the moment, wanting nothing else but for Samuel to ease her ache.

Nothing physical. Four weeks…

His lips barely touched her neck, so lightly that she thought she had imagined it.

“So beautiful,” he breathed.

“Thanks,” she whispered, “but it’s just a sketch. I’m not finished yet.” With those words, she pulled away. She turned to face him as he smiled, glancing down and putting his hands in his pockets.

“So, the Art Crawl… What is it?” she asked.

“Oh yeah! That’s what we were talking about. So, the Art Crawl starts at noon today. It’s basically just a few buildings filled with hundreds of art studios that are open to the public. You can walk around and look at other people’s artwork.”

“Wow, really? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Sounds good to me! So, then…what are we going to do until
noon?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Sure, I could eat,” she said.

“Let’s go get some breakfast,” he replied with a smile.

*

After their meals, they headed to downtown
St. Paul. Glancing over at him as he drove, she watched as his deft fingers switch from gear to gear, observing the muscles flex in his forearm. As he stepped on the clutch, his entire body was in fluid motion with the car’s movement. Never once had she considered how sexy a man could be in a truck. He was wearing a plain white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and his jeans were faded and worn. Her eyes followed his arm up to his neck, where she could see a little bit of stubble he had missed with his razor that morning.

Oh god, look at those ear lobes. The cutest, sexiest little ear lobes I’ve ever seen. If I could just take one in my mouth—

“What’s up?” he asked, interrupting her thoughts with a smile.

“Nothing,” she said too quickly as she turned her head and looked out the window.

He laughed, shaking his head. “We’re here,” he said, parking the truck in the ramp.

Stepping out, Charlie stretched and then shook her legs as Samuel came around to take her hand.

“You okay? How’s your ankle?” he asked, glancing at her feet.

“Oh, I’m fine. The problem with having a thirty-five inch inseam is that some cars make my feet fall asleep.”

His eyebrows shot up and then his jaw clenched.

“Shall we?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“We shall,” she said, taking his offered hand.

Approaching the building, Charlie looked around at the city streets. The structures were old; bulky ten-story buildings lined each side. There was an old-time feel in this part of town; most of the buildings were either made of brick or had been recently renovated to appear to be from the late 1800s. The building in front of her had white pillars stretching up to the sky, stopping at the roof of its twelve stories. The chipped concrete stairs led up to a solid oak, paneled door with engraved scrolling and an iron knob. Samuel tugged on the door and held it open for her.

“After you…” He smiled, anticipating the afternoon.

Walking into the building, Charlie found her eyes drawn to the elegant mahogany staircase that spiraled up into two separate hallways. The rest of the entry was simple, clean, and the floors were covered in white marble tile. A coatrack was next to a small table that held brochures for the day’s attendees. He reached for her shoulders and pulled her gently backward to help her with her coat.

“Where would you like to go first?” he asked.

“This is
your
thing, I’ve never been here before.”

“Okay.” He smiled. “Well, the majority of the student studios are on the third floor. There are a few freelancers that have opened their rooms on the fourth. The fifth and sixth floors are commercial artists.”

“Let’s visit them all,” she said.

“Okay, good.”

As they walked through the hallway, Charlie was reminded of Sabrina’s dormitory. There was a strange smell, like Pine Sol and moth balls, that wafted through the burgundy halls.

They went from room to room, admiring different media that Charlie had never even considered using for art. Metal forks and spoons, feathers, wire sculptures and pipe cleaner mobiles. One studio was filled with rice paper origami birds. The ceiling had hundreds of birds hanging by invisible strings. The bird in the center was larger than Charlie herself. She stared in awe.

“I love this room. I really do. I could stay in this room all day.”

Samuel nodded with a smile. “Come on; let’s go see the one next door.”

Taking one last look around the room, Charlie followed Samuel to the next.

As soon as she entered, she noticed the number on the door: 404. As the door opened wider, the fresh smell of flowers hit her and she closed her eyes.

Upon opening them, she glanced around the room and noticed several bouquets of tulips neatly arranged in elegant vases. A smile played on her lips as she went to the first painting. Dark but intricate, the detail was extraordinary. It was an oil painting with a woman lying in a bed in the foreground; behind her were an open door and a man standing in its entry. It gave Charlie the chills, almost as though she could feel the intentions of the dark figure staring at the peacefully-sleeping female. It spooked Charlie enough to want to keep walking to the next piece.

The next sketch had a much lighter feel. Charcoal on white paper, it showed an overweight female seated at a desk. Charlie found herself jealous of the artist’s technique —the folds in the female’s sweater and the details in her hands and fingernails. Her eye moved up to the female’s face, and a bolt of electricity shot up her spine. She turned swiftly and met Sam’s stare; he was standing with his arms behind his back and a smirk on his face.

She quickly walked over to him and tore the brochure from his hand. Finding the number 404, she panned over to view the name of the artist who rented that particular studio. There it was: Samuel Bordeaux.

“This is yours? This space is where
you
work?”

He nodded.

“And this?” She walked back over to the charcoal portrait that was so obviously
her
. “When did you do this?”

“In college. We had an assignment to choose something to sketch in the room. Remember, in our drawing class? So, I chose you.” He shrugged.

He drew me. Five years ago. Is this how he saw me? Because that girl, although it
is
me, is so much more beautiful than I could ever dream to be. I feel so…naked. I feel exposed. For over an hour, he watched me, when I didn’t know he was watching me. He thought that I was…as stunning as
this
girl. He found me beautiful. He found me sexy. He found
me
.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“What am I supposed to think?” she said, wiping away a single tear on her cheek. She turned and stared straight into his bright eyes. “She’s beautiful.”

“I know she is.”

Charlie sniffed and looked down.

“Just as beautiful as the girl on
your
easel this morning,” he whispered.

“This isn’t fair. Not fair at all,” she said, lifting one corner of her mouth.

“What do you mean? What’s not fair?”

“You’re trying to get me to break the rules.”

“Rules?” he asked.

“There’s nothing I want to do more right now than kiss you,” she said, a smile springing to Samuel’s face. “I mean, what am I supposed to say to this? She’s… What is she? She’s perfect.”

Looking around the room, she glanced at the rest of his artwork, the flowers, and a few small tea light candles lit in the corner by the window. She sniffed again.

“You realize that you just spoiled the rest of the day for me, right? I mean, how can I look at anything else in this place and appreciate it?” she said, beginning to giggle. “You amaze me, Samuel.”

“Come on then, let’s do a quick walk-through of the rest of the studios, and we’ll go back to my place and start dinner.”

Charlie nodded and took Samuel’s hand.

*

On the way back to Samuel’s apartment, Charlie couldn’t stop thinking about the drawing. The detail—all of the things he must have had to really
see
in order to portray her so accurately. He had even drawn the beauty mark she had on her right pinky.

“So, you’re about to meet Gabe.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot you had a roommate.”

Gabe. The guy who came up with the idea of a revenge fuck. Nice. This should be interesting.

“What’s Gabe’s story?”

“Um, well, he is kind of a dick. But other than that, he’s an accountant and a womanizer. He has also been my best friend since we were twelve. He’s a total smart ass, but he’s pretty loyal.”

Charlie nodded.
Hmmm…a womanizer? No kidding
. She rolled her eyes.

“What about you? Is Angie your best friend?”

“Nah, I wouldn’t say that. Although I’ve known her for a very long time. No, if I could label anyone as my best friend, it would probably be my mom, or my dad.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah. They’re really the only ones I’m completely comfortable with. I can talk to them about pretty much anything. They were the kind of parents that all my friends were jealous of. You know, the ones that were always open-minded, would let me drink beer at family reunions and have a glass of wine with dinner when I was a teenager. I remember when I first started smoking at thirteen-years-old, I’d go to a church parking lot two blocks from my house to hide it from them.” She laughed. “I used to call them ‘guilt trips,’ you know, because I was smoking in a
church
parking lot. And to double the guilt, I was doing it behind my parents’ backs. So by the time I turned sixteen, I just told them that I smoked. Ha, my mom just said, ‘well dear, you know the rules, just like we told Sabrina: no smoking in the house. You can go out to the deck.’” She smiled at the memory. “They’re the best.”

“My mom is like that, too. She’s very open-minded. Not my dad, though. I haven’t spoken to my father in a few years; they divorced when I was nineteen.”

Charlie frowned and glanced at Samuel.

“Oh, no, it’s really for the best.”

Charlie remained silent, hoping that if Samuel wanted to talk about it, he would. But he didn’t speak about it again.

*

“If I forget, thank you for today, thank you. I really am…speechless. It has been an amazing day,” she said as they approached his front door.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” he said, gripping her hand tighter.

He dug in his pocket to find the key just as Gabe was opening the door.

“Oh hey!” said Gabe. “I was waiting for Scott. Poker night!”

Charlie tried to size him up as soon as she walked in the door. Gabe towered over Charlie’s five feet eleven inches. He had short dark hair and was extremely attractive, which only clarified Samuel’s earlier description of a ‘womanizer.’ She thought she had him pegged the second she laid her eyes on him.

“Gabe, this is Charlie. Charlie, Gabe,” Samuel said as they stepped into the house.

Glancing briefly around the room, Charlie noticed the oak hardwood floors, a very large flat-screen TV, and the only seating in the room was an oversized dark green sectional. The entire room smelled like a man cave. A pungent aroma of stale popcorn, a lack of fresh air, and Axe body spray filled the area.