Deep Blue (Blue Series) (20 page)

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Authors: Jules Barnard

BOOK: Deep Blue (Blue Series)
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“I wasn’t. And I already heard the parental lecture from Jaeger.”

Her eyes narrow, scanning my face and neck—very likely taking in the
post coitus flush
, as my brother so elegantly put it. “Were you with Jaeger last night?” she asks gently. I nod, and she shoves my knee playfully. “Next time, text or something. We were worried.”

No animosity fills her expression. I trust what Jaeger said about them, but you never know. Anyone can hide their feelings. I did.

The not-calling thing was bad. I would have called if I hadn’t passed out from hot, mind-blowing sex.

“So what are these rumors you mentioned?” I say, forcing my mind off Jaeger, where it’s determined to drift, and back to the previous conversation.

“People have asked me why you got fired.”

That makes it sound so awesome. “Go on.”

“There’s a rumor one of the execs has it in for certain people.”

“That’s pretty much what they said when they let me go, only subtly. It’s done, Gen. I’m not going back.”

“Right, but … if this has happened before—”

“From Drake?”

She stills. “Drake got you fired?”

I shrug. “I assumed. It happened after I rejected him—and Jaeger, well, Jaeger made sure he remembered it.”

I already suspected Drake had me fired. Hearing what he did to Gen, the way he threatened me when I went in to see her—and saw Jaeger comforting her. That must have been right after Drake touched her.

He’s horrible. I wish there was some way to stop him, but he seems to have a firm grip on management. They fired me for no good reason, simply because he told them to.

“Look, Gen, this is bad. No matter what you do about Drake, there could be repercussions. You have to decide what’s best for you. As much as I like to believe differently, I don’t have all the answers.” I press my fingers to my eyes and sigh. “At the moment, I’m not sure I have any answers.”

“You’re right.”

I look up, because
ouch.

She sees my expression. “No, not that. You’re smart, Cali, and you usually have good ideas, but I need to make my own choices. I can do this. I already decided my pride wasn’t worth losing my job.”

“You’re staying on?”

She nods.

The idea of Gen staying at Blue after what Drake did to each of us makes me leery. What if he touches her again, or worse? She shouldn’t have to hide sexual harassment in order to keep her job. That’s horrible.

I don’t tell her any of this, even though I want to so badly. I’m finished telling Gen what to do. She’s stronger than she knows. At least she’s doing what’s right for her and not what others think she should do. It’s more than I can say for myself.

“Hey.” She walks around the edge of the bed and sits beside me. “I’m glad we’re talking again.” My back loosens and I lean into her, resting my head on her shoulder. “No matter what happens, it’s always ten times worse if I can’t talk to you.”

“Ditto.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

I draw the last shape on my sketch out in the backyard. It’s a scene of a rowboat on the shore of the lake with the sun rising in the background. The water is made of squiggly circles and from the corner of my eye, appears to move.

I’m calling my drawings
sketches
instead of
doodles
after I spoke to a professional artist yesterday. She told me I need to approach my work like a business. Apparently,
doodles
isn’t a professional term. The jury is still out on whether or not I believe I’ll thrive with an art career, but I’m moving forward like the trooper my mom taught me to be.

For the first time in my life, I’m not confident I’ll succeed. It’s scary, yet surprisingly freeing. The idea of not following through with grad school still causes me heart palpitations, but my gut tells me I’m doing the right thing.

Last night, I went online and signed up for an art class at the local community college, as well as a CAD course. I learned during my midnight Internet search that some of the patterned drawings I’ve made can be used to create textiles. CAD is a requirement for fabric art.

Whorls of heat rise from the cement patio in the late morning sun. It’s only eleven and already I’m sweating in my pajama bottoms and bikini top.

My phone buzzes. I dig it out from where it has migrated beneath my thigh on the curved lounge chair. My smile grows a mile wide.

 

Jaeger: Dinner this evening?

Cali: Sure.

Jaeger: I’m taking you to Tao. Plan accordingly. I’ll pick you up at 5. I have something I want to show you.

 

Immediately, my mind wanders into naughty territory. But he wouldn’t plan
that
and then expect me to be presentable, would he? Tao is the best restaurant in town.

What to wear? I pick up my sketch, padding on bare feet into the house. It’s quiet for once. Both Gen and Tyler left early for various reasons. I find nothing in my closet that won’t embarrass me in a nice restaurant. I have a couple hours to spare. I’ll swing by the local shops on my limited budget and see if I can find a new top that won’t break the bank.

My financial reserves are dwindling, but I don’t have a fifty-thousand-dollar annual tuition fee to worry about anymore. I’ll need a job to pay for living expenses and the classes I signed up for, but I’m optimistic that won’t be a problem with my work experience at Blue.

A prudent person wouldn’t shop until she had something lined up, but …

Later that night, I slip on heels, black pants, and a short-sleeved, light blue blouse with a crisscross back that I found on sale at my favorite boutique. The color offsets my hair, and the front dips low. The top shows a respectable amount of cleavage, except I’m wearing a push-up bra, so the effect is just shy of obscene. I feel a slight twinge at spending money on the blouse, but I’ll start looking for a new job straight away.

I walk into the living room, where Gen and Tyler are fighting over the remote.

“You’re here rent-free!” Gen says. “You don’t get control of the remote too.”

“We’re not watching
What Would William Pelt Do?
I might as well de-ball myself right here.”

Gen lifts a finger, her eyes closed. “A—that’s gross. B—William Pelt is a hockey player. He’s an
athlete
. You love sports!”

Tyler looks to me in exhaustion.

“Leave me out of this,” I say. “Gen, if he doesn’t let you watch the show, record that shit. William Pelt is hoooot.” Not as hot as Jaeger, but then again, no one is.

“Tyler,” Gen singsongs. “If you let me watch this, I’ll make you popcorn.”

His hand darts out and tickles her under the arm. She screams, and he grabs the remote while she’s disabled. “Dude, you’re gonna have to offer more than popcorn to get this back.”

Gen glares at him, rubbing her armpit. Tyler’s tickles hurt like hell. He burrows deep. “You have the mentality of a fourteen-year-old. How do your students take you seriously?”

“I’ve got skills to pay the bills,” he says, and flips through channels.

“I take that back. You’re like, ten, because I haven’t heard that juvenile statement since fifth grade.” Gen sighs and checks the time on the wall impatiently. The show must begin soon. “Fine, I’ll do a load of laundry.” Tyler keeps flipping. “Two loads?” Her face brightens and she crosses her arms. “I’ll set you up with one of the cocktail waitresses at Blue.”

Tyler stops channel surfing and eyeballs her. I grab my purse and steal a twenty from his wallet when he’s not looking. He wouldn’t want me stranded without cash. I’m doing him a favor by planning ahead. “Keep talking,” he says.

“One of the pretty ones.” Her expression is all innocence in a way only Genevieve can pull off, but I know better. She may not have gotten straight
A
s in school like Tyler and me, but that girl has street smarts.

All the exceptionally pretty waitresses at Blue are as dumb as rocks—not that pretty girls are necessarily mentally hindered. Gen is an example of gorgeous and intelligent mixed in one, but in the case of the other Blue waitresses, the stereotype holds true.

“Done,” he says, and hands her the remote. She does a victory dance on the couch, complete with bouncing and fist pumping. Tyler stares at her chest, his rapt expression indicating the victory dance alone was worth the sacrifice. Gross.

A knock sounds at the door. My heart speeds up. “Okay, kids, I’m off.” I lunge for the knob. I’m not ashamed of Jaeger or our relationship. I’d just rather not face “the parents” on the couch.

Too late.

“And when will you be home?” Tyler asks, his domestic debate forgotten. I glance back and he’s scrutinizing me. He eyes my cleavage and frowns.

“If I’m lucky, not till tomorrow. Toodle-oo!” I pinky wave and open the door. Stepping out, I bump into a confused Jaeger and yank the door shut. I slump against the surface. “Don’t go in there. It’s dangerous.”

He chuckles, “Okay.” He grabs my hand and leans down, kissing me softly on the lips. Tingles flutter in my belly just from that one delicate touch. His gaze dips to my top, catching appreciatively on my chest. He looks at the rest of my outfit and smiles. “You look beautiful.”

Mission accomplished with the new top. I knew the expense would be worth it.

Jaeger’s wearing a button-down green shirt that brings out the green in his eyes. He looks edible, and smells it too. I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tight. “I missed you.”

His face dips to the top of my head and he breathes in through my hair. “Same here.” After a moment, he loosens his hold. “Come on. I’ve got something to show you.” Excitement and a bit of shyness play on his face. He’s often quiet, but I’ve never seen him nervous.

What is this surprise?

Jaeger drives us to his house and my original suspicions resurface. I quickly reject them. Not that sex with Jaeger won’t play a part in the evening if I have a say, but Jaeger’s tapping the steering wheel as if he’s jumpy. Something else is going on.

We walk around to the workshop. He unlocks the door and steps aside for me to enter. The sun hasn’t set, but lies low in the sky, leaving the workshop shadowed without the overheads. He flips on the lights.

“Is this a replay of the other day?” I tease.

He looks at me, heat and desire flaming behind his gaze. “No, and you’d better not put ideas in my head or we won’t make it to dinner.”

He rests his hand on my lower back, scorching the flesh beneath, and guides me across the room to where he keeps his final works. Only a few remain on the tiered shelves today, about half as many as last time. I’ll have to ask him how he sells his stuff. Good for research.

It’s strange how we both turned to art after the life we’d mapped didn’t work out. I’d never considered art and design before I returned to Tahoe, but I’ve been thoughtlessly sketching since fourth grade on napkins, notebooks, and just about any scrap of paper that falls into my hands. Jaeger and I are so different on the surface. He’s quiet and I’m outgoing, but underneath, our passions are the same. On many levels.

Jaeger steps away and pulls out a tablet about four by four feet in size and covered with a painter’s drop cloth. He sets it on the wall display and removes the cover. For a moment, I think, wow, that black drape really highlights the wood nicely, and then my focus settles on the design.

What the …?
“Jaeger?”

“Gen happened to show Mason and me the design you made on a napkin during one of your breaks. I asked her if I could borrow it.” The design is the abstract of the lake. “I also saw the sketch you left on the couch when I came to pick up Gen. Cali, you have crazy talent.”

A naughty glint flashes in his forest-green eyes. “I’ve shown you how special I think
you
are. This—” He points to the piece in front of us. “—is my way of showing you how special I think your art is.”

Gen
… sneaky, sneaky, wonderful best friend. A few things come together. “Does this have anything to do with your clandestine date with my best friend?”

This is more than Jaeger telling me he thinks I’m talented. He’s telling me he likes me, elevating the wooing campaign—the one I only recently realized exists—to new heights.

He smiles, exasperated, and shakes his head. “I wanted Gen to look at the early version. I hadn’t gotten your permission to use the sketch and I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I brought her to my place to check it out and tell me if she thought you’d be okay with it.”

Well, shoot. How was I supposed to know their date was about me? I believed Jaeger when he told me nothing was going on between them, but I always wondered why they’d gotten together that day.

I feel like a total jackass. The amount of planning and work Jaeger must have put into creating this piece blows my mind.

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his dark slacks when I don’t say anything. “Well? What do you think?”

The sketch, replicated on wood, gives the drawing dimension and depth, with the outermost lines advancing as though the center is pulling you in. “It’s really good. Your carving, that is.”

“Your
drawing
is really good. Look—” He steps closer and links our fingers. “—I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but I have a client who commissioned my work. She’s looking for something special. I’d like to show her your sketches as the design for a carving. Gen let me borrow the few you’ve given her, but I can show this lady whichever ones you feel comfortable with.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say hesitantly. I can’t see anyone wanting to buy a carving of my work. But then, that’s the point. To create designs people will want in their homes and businesses. “Let me at least convert the ones you have on napkins and on the backs of bills onto actual artists’ paper before you show her options.”

He laughs. “I really don’t think she’ll care. She’s got a discerning eye.” He pulls me close until I bump into his hard chest. He wraps his arms around my back, his long limbs flanking my hips. “She knows something good when she sees it.”

In heels, my mouth aligns with his jaw. I rise on my toes and kiss his lips. “Thank you. For the carving.”

“Oh, that’s not for you,” he grins.

My head tilts back in mock incredulity. “What do you mean, it’s not for me?”

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