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Sassy keeps staring at me and pawing.
“May I?” I ask.
Cadence stands up and puts her hands on her hips as I grab the pack, loosen the straps, and put it on my back. Sassy stops crying.
“Are you serious right now?” she asks Sassy, and then I feel a purr vibrating through the fabric. “Little slut,” she grumbles and comes to my side. “Come on, it’s not far.”
“Which way?” I make a show of looking around as if I have no idea where she lives.
“Mm-hmm.” Her eyebrows draw together, but then she sets off down the sidewalk. “Come on. I may not trust you, but I won’t look a gift Klimt in the mouth.”
I smirk at her turn of phrase. She’s clever; a surprise–and a beautiful one at that. Winning her over won’t be easy, but I’ve never shied away from a challenge, and I certainly don’t intend to start now.
6
CADENCE
“My place is still kind of a mess,” I tell Vargas when I open the door. “It’s a bit shameful really. My dad has a full staff at home, and I might have gotten used to some things just being done.” I know I’m rambling, but I can’t seem to stop myself. It’s awkward but also exciting to have a visitor.
“It’s cute.” Vargas glances around my living room, putting my bag down on the sofa. I flip the little latch. Sassy hops out on her own. “I wouldn’t call it messy either.”
There are some paint cans and clothes piled in one corner along with a few boxes I brought from my dad’s that I haven’t gotten a chance to unpack yet. Not to mention all the other boxes of things I’ve ordered online. Those are scattered all around the front door area.
“I don’t have a shopping addiction. I swear.” I stare at the giant stack that has overwhelmed me. Pretty sure some are things my dad thought I would need. “Or maybe I do. You need so much stuff when you get your own place.” I really had no clue about the everyday things you needed to function in a home. I learned quickly.
“How long have you lived here?”
“About a month.”
Vargas pets Sassy as he keeps taking in my space.
“You really think it’s cute?” He was being truthful, but it’s still hard to believe that a man of Vargas’s stature would think my pink walls and purple velvet sofa are cute. Then again, isn't cute what you call little girls? Is that how he looks at me? That’s not the feeling I get from him, but I could totally be reading him wrong. Reading truths and lies–I can do that all day. Reading emotions? That’s not my superpower.
“It suits you. The only personal touches I’ve done to my home have been placing some art around. Other than that, everything is black, gray, and white.” He walks over toward the corner where Sassy’s cat tree is, then points at the four square paintings I have mounted. “It’s Sassy.”
“I did them.” I chew on my bottom lip, feeling super shy now. Each one is done in shades of one color. One pink, blue, orange, and teal.
“Impressive.” Once again, he’s telling the truth. It’s either that or my truth detecting skills are slipping around this man.
“Can I get you anything? Something to drink?” I walk toward the kitchen, trying to put a little bit of distance between us so that I can get myself together. I’ve never had a man in my place before. My dad would die if he not only knew I had one here but that it was Vargas Fontaine.
“Maybe after the gallery.”
“Oh, right. I should change.” I glance down at myself. I’m in a pair of purple overalls that have sunflowers on them with a white shirt and sneakers.
“I don’t see why.” He’s in slacks and a buttoned-up shirt.
“Can I freshen up real quick?”
“If you want. I promise you're beautiful as-is.”
A giggle slips from me. I’m so mortified at the stupid sound I bolt toward my bathroom. What am I, a freaking school girl? I might as well be. The hell is wrong with me? He has to think I’m such a dork.
I do what I can, brushing my hair quickly and applying lip gloss and mascara. This will have to do. He might already be running late. I take one more deep breath, reminding myself to pull it together.
I can be professional. I have to go to my father’s meetings. Why would this be any different?Because you don’t talk in those, dummy.You just tap your finger a few times. I push those thoughts out of my mind and head toward the living room. I can do this. Easy peasy.
“Ready,” I squeak loudly. Yeah, I kept it cool for not even a second. “Hey! You sucker.” Vargas' eyes actually go wide, looking like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Only this one is full of cat treats.
