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“Do you run up stairs while playing tennis?” he asked.
“Do you run up stairs in your marathons?” Liz straightened and looked up into his hazel eyes.
“Fair point. However, I do run over twenty-six miles. ”
“Shoot me,” she said.
He tilted his head and smiled at her as if he was trying to hold back from saying something. She wasn’t sure what it was, but his eyes were assessing her. Had she done something wrong?
“My place is down here,” he said, pointing down the hall.
They reached the end of the hall and entered the apartment. It was homey, with a clear feminine touch. Paintings of various mediums—oil, acrylic, and watercolor—covered much of the wall space, nearly all of them unbelievably perfect depictions of landscapes with the occasional portrait and abstract thrown into the collection. The furniture was in all earth tones, and candles were on every table as well as the mantel of the fireplace. Liz instantly felt comfortable in the apartment.
“Is she here?” Liz heard a voice call from off in the other direction.
“Yeah, Jamie, come out of the studio,” Hayden called back, placing Liz’s suitcase off to the side and closing the door.
“Oh my God, hi!” Jamie said, rounding the corner draped in a paint-splattered apron. She looked nothing like Hayden, with a chin-length black bob with red highlights and long bangs that swept across her forehead and tucked behind her ear. She was shorter than Liz, with a naturally tiny frame. The one quality it seemed she and Hayden shared was her charismatic smile.
“Hey,” Liz said as Jamie walked right up to her.
“I would totally hug you, but I can’t guarantee you wouldn’t get paint all over you!”
Liz laughed. “That’s all right. ”
“I’m so glad you’re here. ”
That was a common sentiment, it seemed. Topher and Phillip had said something similar, and now his sister was reiterating the same thing. How much had Hayden talked about her?
It was nice, though. As daunting as it was to come up to D. C. , she liked at least getting the opportunity to meet people. She had hidden all summer and had forgotten how much she liked to spend time with other people.
“Hayden wasn’t sure what you wanted for dinner, but he said he already knew that you liked Italian. I happen to make some kick-ass lasagna,” Jamie said, bubbly and friendly. Liz couldn’t have kept a smile from her face if she tried. “I hope you don’t mind staying in to eat. We can go out if you want. I’m cool with that. Whatever y’all want! I just get super exhausted after driving for a long time and prefer to nap instead of going out. You might not be like that…”
“Jamie,” Hayden said, shaking his head, “breathe. ”
Jamie rolled her eyes at him. “Sorry. So, what do you want to do?” she asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of her toes.
“Ignore her. I swear she gets hopped up on caffeine when she’s in her studio,” he said, nudging Liz.
“Whatever, Hayden. I’m being accommodating, and you’re being an ass. ”
“Lasagna sounds great,” Liz cut in, knowing a family brawl when she saw it. “Thank you. ”
“Great! I’ll get started on that then,” Jamie said, bounding back into her studio.
“I’m going to go change,” Hayden told Liz. “You can bring your stuff into my room. We don’t have a guest room, so I’m taking the couch. ”
“Oh no, I can take the couch. I don’t mind,” she told him quickly.
Hayden leveled a look at her that she had seen time and time again at the paper. She wasn’t getting out of this. He reached forward and picked up her suitcase and started walking it back to his bedroom.
“You are not sleeping on the couch,” he said. “You’re a guest. ”
Liz shrugged and walked with him down the hallway. She glanced off to the right and saw Jamie’s studio. It was a small bedroom covered in easels, canvas, and paint. The floor had a sheet of plastic over the carpet, and the walls were a strange array of colors from where paint had splashed. Jamie removed her apron as they passed.
“One of Jamie’s roommates moved out for the summer, so I took over her bedroom. Otherwise I would have had to live in the suburbs with my parents. Really lucky, I’d say,” Hayden told her as he opened his bedroom for her.
This was more what she expected from Hayden. The room was perfectly put together and sensible compared to his eccentric artist sister. A queen-sized bed sat in one corner with a green comforter and white pillows. A desk sat against one wall, and that was pretty much it as far as the room went. He clearly spent more time at the office than in his room. It looked more like a place you came home to to change and sleep.
