Intaglio: The Snake and the Coins (9 page)

BOOK: Intaglio: The Snake and the Coins
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Fact was, Oliver
Brooks wasn’t like most fathers.

He and Ava were
closer than most: they talked about things that fathers and daughters usually
avoided, abortion and sexuality and drug use (though he tended to fib on that
one).  They argued and ranted at one another, then moments later were
engrossed in heated discussions about books and dreams and reincarnation. 
Not that he wasn’t a disciplinarian… Ava grinned, remembering the late night talks
at the table when Oliver insisted on talking calmly until Ava could
“see it
his way.”

It was that he
treated her as a person, too. 

For a moment,
his voice was as clear in her mind as if he was hovering beside her.  She
could hear the conversation they’d had on the way back from the police station
the night she had been caught spray-painting the back wall of her high
school.  The event that had finally pushed Oliver to enroll Ava in a
summer art program for teens.

“You’re an old
soul, Ava...”
he’d
begun, his voice tired
.

“God, Dad...
Let’s not do this now, please...”

“It’s
true.  You are.  But that means you have to choose your life… not
just react to it.”

“What the fuck
is that supposed to mean?”
she’d snapped at him
. “I don’t understand you
sometimes!”
She had been tired; being booked by the police had left her
feeling raw and furious.

“First – watch
your mouth – I don’t like swearing,”
Oliver had grumbled irritably.

“Fine. 
What does it mean, then?”

“It means you
need to LEARN from the things that happen to you, Ava.”

“And what if I
don’t learn from them?”
she’d cried, her voice breaking in anger

“What if I just keep screwing up?”

Ava scowled, his
voice from the past sending a warning to her present, leaving her anxious about
the decision to take Cole out to paint tonight.

“Then you’ll be
forced to live the mistakes over and over again until you do...”

: : : : : : : :
: :

The sky
lightened to a muddy greyish purple by the time they hit the main roads. 
Cole slowed down to three clicks below the speed limit.  He was smiling;
his body still coursing with adrenaline.  When they reached her apartment,
Ava climbed off the back of his bike, pulling the helmet off sweat-rumpled hair
and offering it back. 

She leaned
toward him, her wind-whipped face glowing.  Cole thought she might kiss
him – helmet and all – but she just grinned, her face bright with unbridled
joy.

“How’s it feel
to walk the edge, Cole?” she whispered, her lips moist and parted.  “To
just say fuck it and live out loud?”

He laughed at
that and then lifted off his own helmet, hanging it off the handlebar but not
stepping off the bike.

“Is that what we
were doing?”

She shrugged.

“Something like
that...”

The smile that
he’d been fighting down was back.

“Next date,
I
get to choose
where we go,” Cole said tartly.

Ava laughed.

“So that was a
date
,
was it?” she teased, her voice low and enticing.

He grabbed a
belt loop on either side of her jeans, pulling her forward so that she was half
straddling his knee, half leaning up against his bike, her face inches from
his.

“Yeah, it was,”
he said in quiet seriousness.  “But next time, we’re going to do something
legal
.”

Ava burst into
raucous laughter, the sound echoing loudly off the cement sides of the
building.

“Spoilsport,”
she taunted with a wink.

Cole grinned in
response, but he didn’t let go of her.  There was a growing point of heat
between them where her legs rested against his.  It had drawn all of his
attention. 
That and her nearness.

As the moment
stretched out, her eyes flickered up to his face, losing the laughter and
becoming surprised first, and then wary.  For a few seconds, neither
spoke, the two of them just watching one another.  Cole’s expression was
solemn, and he reached out, putting one hand on the back of her neck, urging her
forward.  For the briefest moment she resisted him, her face shifting
anxiously, the clear blue of her eyes growing concerned.  Nervousness held
her still for just long enough that Cole registered the reaction. She eased
into the motion, letting him bring her forward, her sooty eyelashes fluttering
closed. 

For a moment he
simply brushed her lips.  The barest hint of his mouth moving lightly
against hers.  Ava’s hands moved up to his shoulders, resting there while
he kissed her.  She was trembling; he could feel it through her palms, and
he wondered at her reaction.  How she could be so
fierce
sometimes
– unabashedly running into danger – and yet terrified at other times. 
Cole forced his body to stay under control, keeping this kiss slow and
suggestive.  He was determined to play this right.  He let go, hands
falling limply to his lap.  She could stay or she could go.  It was
up to her.

With that single
motion, Ava sighed into his mouth, her body relaxing as the equilibrium
rebalanced.

Cole felt the
exact moment she stopped
letting him
kiss her
and moved into the
embrace, eagerly participating.  Her lips opened against his and her
tongue flicked into his mouth, testing.  His body was burning to touch and
caress her, wild with desire, but he forced himself to stay motionless, fingers
in fists on his lap, breath coming in sharp gasps.  Ava moved closer,
sliding herself up his thigh, the bike creaking slightly as she did.  Her
hands were no longer shaking.  She ran them up and over his shoulders;
wrapping herself around him, shifting nearer as she did. 

The kiss dragged
on.  She pressed her breasts up against his chest, her hips tight against
his.  There were small mewling sounds coming from the back of Ava’s
throat, sending stabs of lust directly to his groin.  Cole could feel his
restraint wavering, , and he knew if he wanted to keep himself under control
that he needed to end this
right fucking
now

With a
frustrated sigh, he broke contact, letting his cheek rest against hers, panting
against her ear, unwilling to pull away.  He stroked her hair, then ran
his fingers down her shoulders to her back.  He didn’t want the night to
end, even though it was already very early morning.  Ava’s breathing had
slowed, and she glanced up at him, her eyes wide and luminous like the morning
sea after a night time storm. 

Calm
.

“I’m gonna go,”
Cole said.  “I’ve got to get a bit of sleep.  I need to start working
on the back of the sculpture to get it done for the show.”

Ava nodded, her
fingers sliding down the front of his jacket and finding his hands.  Her
gaze fluttered down to their joined fists, and then back up to his face.

“This was...”
she said, one corner of her mouth lifting, “a good date.”

“It was,” he
agreed with a smile.  “And thanks,” Cole added, “for all your help with the
sculpture tonight.”

Ava grinned,
letting go of him and stepping back from the bike.

“Anytime.”

He pulled on his
helmet and lifted a hand in farewell, starting the bike back up.  In
seconds he was gone, heading away from her before he could change his mind. 

 

Chapter 10:  The Snake and
the Coins

Ava was painting
in the studio late the next afternoon when she heard the heavy tread of a man
walking up the stairs.  She assumed it was Chim so she didn’t turn around,
focused instead on getting the mix of colour and light correctly balanced in
the painting.  She had had the dream again in the hours after Cole had
dropped her off, and had awoken with a burning need to capture it in
paint. 

The painting was
of a landscape, she realized now, though the perspective was completely
skewed.  The greens, blues and golds were actually a vision looking
down
onto a place, not a view from the side.  Though it wasn’t any place she
remembered visiting, but the strange familiarity of it left her throat
aching.  In the last hours of painting, the shape she had thought might be
a snake on top of a shower of gold coins had morphed into a river heading
toward the nearby sea.  The arc of blue, she now saw, was the sandy
shoreline next to a cluster of gold-leafed trees.  She’d just been seeing
it from
above
.  She grinned, lifting her brush off of the canvas,
feeling things starting to fit together. 

She was in flow.

Absorbed in
painting, Ava jumped as someone’s hand touched her shoulder.

“Shit!” she
yelped, spinning around. 

It was Kip
Chambers, his face rapt with awe, engrossed in her painting.

“Sorry,” he
muttered, but his eyes were on the painting in front of them.  “Ava, this
is just… just…
wow
.” He stepped forward, getting closer to the impasto
surface, eyebrows pulled together in concentration.  “Shit!  Raya
wasn’t kidding about this.”

Ava glanced
around, unnerved by his unexpected appearance in her space.  Over in
Marcus’s studio, she could see Raya Simpson, her hands slicing through the air
as she talked with Chim.  The two of them had some kind of folder laid out
on the table before them.
‘Chim’s official portfolio,’
Ava
realized.  Simpson and Marcus were chatting in low tones while he pointed
at his canvas, his hands tracing different elements, gesturing at the faded
echoes of the portraits underneath.

“I thought when
Raya called,” Kip said, “she was talking about a graffiti piece in the yards,
but this is just bloody amazing.  I love your work.  It’s abstract in
some ways, but still representational.  Powerful.”

A crimson blush
rose up her neck at the praise, but Kip didn’t see her reaction, still
captivated by her work.  He turned around, his brown eyes, warm and
bright, meeting hers. 

“Amazing,” he
repeated.

Ava shrugged,
glancing over at the wet painting.  It was still a mishmash of colour –
nothing like Chim’s paintings – but she still liked how it was working. 
Now if only she could capture the
feel
of the dream.  The release.

“Thanks,” she
muttered.  The praise felt over the top, forced.

There were a few
awkward seconds when neither spoke, and then Kip stepped closer.

“Look,” he said,
“the reason I came by today was I was wondering if you’d want to work on a
larger studio piece with me.”  He gestured to the unfinished canvas beside
them.  “Something twice this size, or larger.  A mural, actually…
I’ve been asked by a private collector to do a piece for their home.”

Ava nodded, her
mind struggling to balance two opposing reactions: excitement and wariness.

“I’m open to the
idea,” she said, “but I need more information.  That’s a pretty vague
description for a collaboration project.”

Kip chuckled,
his gaze dropping down her body before dragged its way back up again. 

“Fair enough,”
he said, crossing his arms.  “I’ll have Simpson draw up some
numbers.  I’m thinking a thirty, seventy split.”  He narrowed his
eyes, glancing at the painting of the snake and the coins and then to her once
more.  His gaze was harder now, measured.  “I’m not trying to screw
you over, Ava, I’m just being realistic – your work isn’t known. 
Mine
is.
  Feel free to check out the numbers and decide for yourself.”

She nodded, and
Kip took another step toward her, pushing slightly into that bubble she kept
around herself.  Her chin rose defiantly, but she didn’t step back. 
She refused to
.

“I’ll think
about it,” she said slowly, “once I see those numbers...”

“Of course, you
could always come up with a counter-offer,” he said in a husky voice, eyes
heavy-lidded. 

There was a
tension between them, and Kip Chambers was caressing her with every look –
following the curve of her lips and cheek and breasts.  Testing
something.  She found her heart beating faster…
worried at the sudden
change
.

“I’d be
interested in what you come up with,” he added.

Kip’s fingers
reached out to brush a piece of hair away from her face, the gesture so similar
to the one Cole had used when he’d lifted her helmet off that it left her
unnerved.  Ava shivered and this time she
did
step back, but not
before she caught Raya Simpson watching the two of them from the doorway,
white-faced with rage. 

: : : : : : : :
: :

Ava painted
until her stomach growled audibly, then decided to call it a night.  She
was buzzing with the feeling of flow and perfection.  She thought last
night’s trip to the train yards had something to do with that.

‘That,’
her mind
whispered,
‘and Cole...’

BOOK: Intaglio: The Snake and the Coins
7.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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