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“Yeah, Luce,” I said thickly. “I’m good, I promise. And I also promise that the next time I feel that way, I’ll tell you. Or tell someone.”
“Good. I was just saying to Cas that I thought we should check in on you, but now you’re going to be too busy with your mysterious, rich benefactor”
“I’ll let you know the second I’m done,” I said, already disliking the idea of being done with Ambri when we hadn’t even started.
“Wait, you sound sad again,” Lucy said. “Or maybe not sad, but…”
“Conflicted?”
“Yes! What is it? Is he an asshole?”
“Let’s just say he’s…morally compromised.”
Great, now I’m a demon apologist.
“But that’s only part of the problem,” I added quickly and flopped back onto my hard slab of a bed and stared at the ceiling. “I think I might be developing…”
“Feelings for him?” Lucy practically shrieked in my ear.
“No,I’m havingthoughts. A lot of them. And they all tend to move in his direction.”
Another squeal and I had to hold the phone away from my ear.
“Oh my God, sorry,” Lucy said. “It’s just that it’s beenthree yearssince you’ve even mentioned someone.”
“Yeah, but it’s not good, Luce. There are a billion ethical reasons why getting involved is a bad idea. Least of which, he’s my employer.”
“I see your point, but I also sort of don’t care.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Look, I know you. You’re compassionate and kind and anyone who gets your attention has to be worth it somehow. Right?”
“It’s a little more complicated than that.” I flicked a piece of lint off my bedspread with a sigh. “We’re sort of impossible.”
“Oh no. Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth. I got a little bit infatuated with him because he’s ridiculously beautiful. But I can’t—and shouldn’t—ignore the rest.”
Lucy sighed. “Well, that sucks. Maybe after you’re done working for him…?”
“He’ll still be who he is. No, I need to keep things professional. Do my job and that’s it,” I said, wishing I felt half as convincing as I sounded.
“Well, let me know if anything changes,” Lucy said. “Who knows? Maybe just being in your luminous presence will bring him around and he’ll behave himself.”
I smiled at the idea of Ambribehavinghimself in any capacity.
“Miracles do happen. I gotta run. Love you, Luce.”
“I love you, Cole. Talk soon, okay?”
“I will.”
We said our goodbyes and I immediately set up a canvas and grabbed a pencil. The light outside was growing dim, but that seemed appropriate. I took a deep breath, inhaling the memory of Ambri standing by the window last night, feathered wingtips brushing the floor, his black-on-black eyes somehow expressive and thoughtful. Almost melancholy.
I roughed out a sketch of him in black and white, my mind’s eye filling in the color. The glare of the window behind him and the lone streetlight glowing yellow. The deep maroon of the walls, the black of his suit. The entire composition came to me in moments; I could see it as if it were already finished. I dropped the pencil, grabbed a brush, and got to work.
The hour grew late. I lit a lamp.
