PLAYED - A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE (11 page)

He started to take our orders, ignoring my requests for recommendations,
when Reiko poked her head up and glanced over.

“Oh! Riley! And Handsome English Dude! Why didn’t you tell me you were
coming by?”

“It was a last-second thing,” I smiled. “How are you? Kid’s got you
bothered?”

Her face fell as she tilted her head. “Boy, you have
no
freaking idea how much of a
snot-nosed little brat these teenagers can be on an individual basis... slap a
crew of them together, and I’m constantly putting out fires.”

“Fire?” The kid asked, perking up.

“No, you insane pyromaniac,” she told him. “Don’t you
dare
think about fire. You just get over
there and start making sandwiches, or the closest
fire
you’ll find is a freaking pink slip.”

He wandered over to the side, and she started giving out glowing
recommendations of some of the offerings at her dine-in. Within ten minutes, we
were eating some of the most delicious sandwiches that I’d ever tasted –
completely complimentary.

“That’s not half bad,” I told her when she swung by to check on us,
pulling up a barstool to our high-top table.

“Oh yeah?” She grinned, nodding along. “You
like
that fried alligator sub, don’t’cha?”

“It’s pretty damned delicious,” I agreed.

“One of my favorites,” Reiko replied, then jabbed a thumb Riley’s way.
“Can never get this one to try any of the cool stuff…”

“I like the traditional ones,” she answered defensively. “Nothing’s
wrong with a chicken cordon bleu.”

“But that’s so
uninspired.
Chicken
and ham, dude! What’s exciting about
that?
Try out the wacky shit sometime!” Her voice went sing-song as she
continued. “I can guarantee that you’d liiiike iiiit…”

“When’s the last time I’ve enjoyed a recommendation of yours?”

She looked between the two of us. “Um. Remember that one time that I
convinced you to come downstairs and head to the bar with me? When I mentioned
the
totally hot British guy, sipping away
at his
–”

“
Point taken,
” Riley quickly
interjected. “Point very,
very
taken.”

“Oh?” I chuckled between bites. “
That
sounds like a story.”

“Don’t you dare,” she cut in, glaring daggers at Reiko. Well… very dull,
half-joking daggers, but daggers nevertheless.

“Try something cool next time, and I won’t!”

“
Fine.
”

“Fine, what?” Reiko smiled widely.

“Fine, I
promise
to try
something ‘cool’ next time,” Riley answered in defeat.

“See! I don’t really ask for much, do I?” She laughed, aiming the
question mostly my way. “It’s all bellyaching with this one. Total stick in the
mud. Set in her ways… sometimes, you’ve just gotta break her out of that shell,
you know?”

“I think I’m starting to see that,” I grinned.

Riley looked between both of us.

“I don’t think I like you two being friends.”

“Oh, c’mon bruh!” Reiko laughed again, throwing an arm around my
shoulder. “Inseparable as
fuck
. We’re
two peas in a pod! Two beans on a stalk! Two…”

The scraping noise started up again, and she almost lost her shit
completely.

“God
dammit, Parker
!”

When she leapt off the barstool and went to go rescue her expensive
restaurant equipment from her crewmember again, Riley and I shared an eye roll
as we tore back into our sandwiches.

I realized in that moment that just I couldn’t ignore it anymore. This
girl was absolutely wonderful, and I deeply enjoyed our time together…

…And I thought that I might just love her.

Chapter 9

Riley

The next time I lifted a paintbrush, I was astonished at how quickly I
slipped into the zone. The colors came naturally to me, and the delicate,
intricate swiping of bristles against canvas sang a chorus of victory into my
ears.

A few hours later, I was facing another landscape painting. To the
untrained eye, it was just like my previous, failed paintings – dozens of them,
sitting in the Closet of Doom in my apartment.

But this painting didn’t belong there.

I gazed at the soft strokes of paint, at how the creek raced down the
forest floor. It hooked a steady bend in the foreground, pouring down a steep,
brief drop-off into a bed of smoothed large stones. The water turned white with
activity, rustling towards the viewer, carving its path through the trees.

 
There was no other life
here, no traces of animals nipping at the rushing water or tucked away behind
the flora. It was only a glimpse into the woods, flowing with berry bushes,
strong and sturdy trees, and sprawling branches.

All of which gave way for their passionate, reigning god: the roaring,
rustling creek, choosing its own place and cutting a path of life through the
rest.

I smiled to myself:
the magic is
back.

I began to clean up, washing my brushes and checking the easel to ensure
the paint would dry to an optimum efficiency. The last thing I needed was for
my first acceptable painting in months to fuck up in the cool-down process.

For the first time that day, I thought about Connor and Reiko. They had
both grown busy with their prospective jobs, and I’d been filling my time with
Lex…

But Connor in particular
was
starting to become somewhat of a hassle.

It had been obvious since high school that he was developing feelings
for me. The advent of college, and even disappearing for a year off to Finland,
had done nothing to push those feelings down… and now that we were growing into
our mid-twenties, he was finding it hard to keep himself restrained.

He thought, perhaps, that he was being sly with the obvious glances, the
lingering gaze, and the way he’d drop whatever he was doing to come drag around
me if opportunity struck. The only reason I didn’t see more of him than Reiko
was that he was kept so busy running his record store.

But as soon as Lex Lambert had entered the picture…

Perhaps it was because Lex was clearly hanging around, and I was clearly
fine with it. Maybe it was because Connor knew that I was a total Anglophile,
and that dating – or even just
fucking
–
a handsome, older British man was too much for him to ignore.

Either way…

He was clearly aggravated about this.

That’s why I kept myself occupied a lot of the time. I started to blow
him off, when I was really hanging out with Reiko, or sometimes I’d tell the
truth and let him know that I was going over to Lex’s place, or he was coming
to mine.

I thought back to the previous day, when he’d cornered me at my place
and invited me out for breakfast. Reiko was busy with the shop, and I didn’t
have any excuse to not go… and I felt a little bad about constantly blowing him
off.

So I had gone out with him.

“There’s something wrong with him,” Connor confided over a half-eaten
stack of pancakes and some bacon slices. “What’s he doing, hanging around here
anyway?”

“Will…” I muttered. “Don’t do this.” The conversation had been going so
well. We’d been talking about his record business and my paintings, but
inevitably…

“Don’t do what?” He asked, almost accusingly. “He doesn’t have a day
job, he lives out of some cheap hotel, he was just sitting and drinking every
night until you showed up… he goes and visits around the city, but
why
is he here?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged.

“What do you mean,
you don’t know?
”

“I mean, I never bothered to really ask him most of those details,” I
answered defensively. “He’s some kind of football player on vacation here.
What’s to know?”

“He wears high-end suits and disguises how loaded he probably is,” Connor
stated, remaining on the offensive. “It’s suspicious.”

“It’s pissing me off,” I replied.

“You too, huh? I knew you weren’t that dense.” He grinned, swallowing
down another bite. “Let’s see what we can dig up on this guy. Have you even
googled him?”

“No, Will,
you’re
pissing me
off,” I told him. “Just fucking drop it, okay? If there’s something there,
he’ll tell me, alright? I trust him. I don’t need this to get complicated. I
like
that it’s something simple…
something easy. There’s a hard deadline set, and he’ll be gone soon. Just let
me fucking have this while it’s here to be had.”

Connor looked positively wounded. “But Riley, I just don’t want you to
be–”

“To be hurt?” I hissed. “I’ll be fine. You’ve known me for a long time,
Will. I’ve got thicker skin than most. I’ll manage.”

“Speaking of that…”

I noticed him take a deep breath.

Oh, no. Not now. Don’t do
this.

“Riley… I tried to keep it to myself, but I can’t help it anymore,” he
began, clearly lowering himself to the point of complete vulnerability in front
of my eyes. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Ever since we were kids, and I
fought off that bully for you–”

“This isn’t the time,” I insisted.

“When
is
the time, Riley?” He
demanded. “It’s
never
the right time,
is it? Because you don’t want to hear it. And that’s fine for you and all, but
I can’t help the way that I feel–”

“Will, please stop,” I pressed. “You
know
that I’m with Lex. If you had to let this out
now
, you could have waited another month or so–”

“That’s not good enough,” he told me under no uncertain terms. “I know
that you’re falling for him. God, Riley, it’s so fucking obvious. And I’ve seen
how he looks at you, too. You’re both going to hurt each other, and that’s all
there is to it.

“And then I’m going to have to come in and scoop you up, just like I
always do when you get too attached to a guy.”

I paused warningly, raising an eyebrow.

“…Excuse me?”

Connor realized his mistake, but it was too late for him to back out of
the corner he’d painted himself into. “Wait… that’s not what I meant. Riley,
you know that I’ll always be there for you–”

“We’re finished,” I told him, rising up from the seat and tossing down a
ten and a five onto the table in front of him. “I’m taking a few days. I’ll
contact you first. Leave me alone.”

I didn’t look over my shoulder as I left the restaurant, abandoning him
to the rest of his meal alone.

But that was yesterday.

I checked on the painting again. It wasn’t just good… It was perfect. I
couldn’t let Connor get under my skin. Things were going well for the first
time in a long time…

After changing into some casual clothes, I heard my ringtone pinging
from the living room. Kicking back into a chair, I snatched up my phone and
glanced at the caller ID.

It was one of the local galleries, which I considered odd, but they
usually only reached out to me if there was a substantially good reason.

“Hello, Miss Ricketts?”

“Adam!” I grinned to myself affably. “How are you, my love?” Of all the
others, it was incredibly rare that the Pulliam Museum reached out to me, let
alone the head curator. “I hope all is well down there.”

“Things are splendid,” he responded in his usual, casual tone… although
I sensed something just beneath the surface. “In fact, things are a little
better
than splendid… I just received a
rather interesting phone call.”

“Sounds curious. Do tell.”

His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “We are apparently about to host a
rather distinguished guest, Ms. Ricketts… I just got off the phone with one
Gloria Van Lark.
”

My heart stopped in my chest.

“Miss Ricketts? Are you there, Miss Ricketts?”

I swallowed the burst of emotion that threatened to surge out of my
throat. “I am absolutely,
definitely
here,
Adam.”

“Good. You are in New Orleans, I trust?”

“I’m at my apartment now, just thirty or forty minutes away.”

“Excellent. She was rather particular about an artist’s work that she
wanted to peruse… and indicated that she had already scoured a few other
galleries in the last couple of days. I sincerely think that you should get
down here immediately.”

Gloria Van Lark was
here?

And she was looking at
my
work?

WHY AM I JUST HEARING ABOUT
THIS NOW.

“Absolutely. Oh god, Adam, thank you so much for contacting me. I had no
idea that she was here!”

“Neither did I, truthfully,” he receded back into his typical casual
tone. “I have excellent working relationships with the other galleries in town,
but it would appear that none of them saw fit to indicate this…
delicate
matter to me. Oh well. She is
expected within the hour. It might serve you to represent yourself…”

“I’m heading out the door as we speak,” I lied, glancing over towards my
closet and already running clothing options through my head.

“See to it that you are, my dear.
Bonne
chance, mon amie
!”

“
Merci, monsieur!
”

With that, I haphazardly dove towards the closet, quickly settling on a
conservative yet trendy outfit that highlighted a prim, subtle sense of style.

As I locked the door and darted down the stairs towards the streets of
New Orleans, I dug out my phone and sent a group text to Reiko and Will.

Yes, even Will.

He was one of the very few people in the world who understood the
gravity of what was happening here… and how utterly important this moment was
to me.

“Gloria Van Lark is here, and
she’s prowling the local galleries featuring my art as we speak.”

A few minutes later, Reiko responded:

“GET IT, GIRL.”

And then Will:

“I knew this day would come
:) Good luck!”

Unsurprisingly, he was just happy that I was talking to him again, even
if only in passing.

The massive smile stayed glued to my face all the way down to the
Pulliam Museum, where I flashed my
Gallery
Pass
to the front attendant and strolled into the building.

I wasn’t sure what to do with myself, or what kind of signal to expect
that would indicate her presence, so I went ahead and walked towards the
exhibit that carried some of my signature work.

Ascending up the white tile stairs, I took in the surroundings of the
Pulliam Museum. It was a rather modern piece of architectural elegance, built to
emphasize light and luminescence.

During the day, the various skylights, glass ceilings, and reflective
surfaces shimmered a dazzling but not blinding force of light across the main
atrium and aortic passages, emphasizing ample use of vertical space with
winding staircases.

At night, however, the sunken lighting took over, enhancing the entire
museum with an astounding array of modern brightness that bathed the careful
architecture and beautiful tiling work with majesty, grace, and exquisite
accent.