Watercolor Hearts Page 13

  “Anything that can get Ivy this excited, I gotta see,” said Blake. He ran his hand gently across my back as he braced himself to lean over me. His scent was all man, and for a sick, twisted minute, I completely forgot there were people in the room.

  “The Cosmic Diamond. Jesus.” Blake ogled the email. “That’s one of the rarest diamonds in existence.”

  “It is,” I said. “Not only is it one of the largest diamonds, but it’s the perfect blue-gray hue.”

  “What’s the value?” asked Ty.

  “Brace yourself,” I warned. “The Cosmic Diamond is worth over two-hundred thirty-two million dollars, and it looks like our pal Henry Huntslee has acquired it for display in his museum.”

  “Damn,” Pike wheezed.

  “The thought of that little bitch Blair bragging about how daddy got the Cosmic Diamond makes me wanna snatch it right out from under their turned up snouts,” growled Ivy. “We can crack Huntslee’s museum, easy.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not where it will be delivered first. I saw a memorandum the other day from Huntslee to Blair and Colt. At the time, it didn’t mean much of anything. I recognized the Tekradoze name, of course, but without any real details, it didn’t sound a siren.” I pulled up the memorandum. “Here it is.”

  Blake began reading the memo. “Upon confirmation from Tekradoze, call Mankazian to arrange for its debut at their New Year’s Eve gala. Request the first floor library for its safe keeping prior to presenting it.”

  “Mankazian…where do I know that name?” Ivy pondered. “Oh. Right. I screwed old Mankazian’s nephew recently. They’re hosting Blair’s annual Halloween party this coming Halloween night.”

  Blake, Pike, Ty, Greg, and I turned our eyes on Ivy.

  “Back to the party…we could do recon,” Pike suggested. “Get the lay of the land on Halloween in preparation for New Year’s Eve. It’s pretty ideal.”

  After a few seconds my brain clicked. “You slept with his nephew? Why?”

  “Mmm, I dunno. He reminded me of a hot garden guy, but with a trust fund,” Ivy replied lazily. “He invited me to the Halloween party. I turned him down. Suppose I better have a change of heart.”

  “What if he found another date?” Greg asked meekly.

  Ivy peered down at Greg. “This poor sod needs to understand who I am.”

  I seriously loved Ivy’s confidence.

  “Get that invite, Ivy,” said Blake. “I’m invited to their Halloween bash every year. Greg, get Ty, Pike, and Maggie-as-Charlotte invites.”

  “Not a problem,” said Greg. “I don’t need to go, of course.”

  There was a muted sadness in his voice.

  “Maybe this would be the night you joined us,” I said.

  “No,” said Blake sternly. “Greg is needed here.”

  Greg grinned sheepishly. “I’m more comfortable in my cocoon.”

  “I get that,” I said. “Maybe another time.”

  Ivy, looking from me to Greg, cooed, “Well, well, well. Tip-tap and Maggie have bonded. When did that happen?”

  Greg and I exchanged a sideways glance.

  “Maggie is a kindred spirit,” said Greg. “Not a…scary spirit.”

  “Aw, Greg, you say the sweetest things,” said Ivy, bending down and kissing his cheek, sending him into a tailspin of goofy grins.

  Blake clapped his hands together. “Okay, Pike, Ty, you know what to do. Greg, get on those invites. Ivy, get back to the nephew and accept that invitation.”

  “Not a problem,” said Ivy, slapping her ass.

  “Maggie…” started Blake. “How ‘bout coming with me?”

  Glancing at the clock, I said, “It’s still hours until midnight. We’re going to train this early?”

  “I guess you’re just going to have to wait and see, aren’t you?” he said playfully. “Come on, shut down and let’s get out of here.”

  I shut down my computer and packed my stuff.

  As I started across the hub with Blake by my side, Ty called out, “Hey, good job, Maggie!”

  “Yeah, we knew you’d find something,” Pike added.

  “Did you? I didn’t.” Ivy turned her vicious grin on me. “You shocked the spirit outta me.”

  “I’m gonna take that as a compliment,” I said warily.

  “You should,” said Ivy. “It is one.”

  “Yeah, an ‘Ivy’ compliment,” Ty grumbled.

  “I do have my own brand of everything…except whips. Hmm. Something to look into.” Ivy swiveled her chair around and scribbled down some notes.

  Damn her for putting the concept of whips in my head! What the hell was it with me and whips lately? Had to be the hormones messing with my fantasies. Thanks, hormones and Ivy and whips.

  Blake and I headed to the tunnels, hardly speaking, apart from a completely innocuous comment here and there. It was strange, really. Though we weren’t actually speaking, it felt like our subconscious beings were deep in conversation with one another.

  Once we reached the tunnels, Blake turned to me. “All right. We’re going to part here. You head to the training building. I’m going down to the end of the block. Finn’s waiting for me there. We’ll pick you up by the front doors of the training building in, oh, eight to ten minutes.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be there.” I grudgingly turned away and started for the training building.

  By the time my slow self exited the front doors of the training building, Finn was standing by the parked town car. He opened the back door to reveal a smiling Blake.

  “Okay, how did you get here so fast? My walk was much shorter than yours. You are a superhero, aren’t you?”

  “I have my ways,” said Blake.

  I stopped beside Finn. “Does this car transform into some flying-mobile or something?”

  “A good driver never tells,” said Finn with a wink.

  Crawling in the car next to Blake, I said, “Come on, how’d you do it?”

  “Did you ever think maybe you’re just really slow?”

  I paused for a moment, my face blank. “Actually…yes.”

  We laughed. With Blake, I’d laughed more than I had in years. I had forgotten how freeing a laugh could be for the soul.

  In what seemed like the fastest car ride in history, Finn pulled up to a beautiful brownstone.

  “I thought you lived in Tribeca,” I said. “I’ve seen it in all the magazines—big, bright, modern place. Lots of angled chairs and, uh, curvy couches.”

  “Know a lot about design, do you?”

  Smirking, I said, “No, nothing. To me, a broken-in recliner is fashionable.”

  Blake chuckled. “Blake Traverz, multi-millionaire, lives in Tribeca. I live here.”

  Upon exiting the car, he immediately turned to help me out. The street was dark, quiet, and strangely safe. I reached the top step about the time Blake unlocked the door.

  “This is my home,” he said, stepping aside to let me in.

  With each light he turned on, I realized I wasn’t looking at someone’s home; I was looking at someone’s soul. Unlike the fancy, cold, high-tech ways of the hub, this place radiated heart. Much like his hidden office near the hub, Blake’s home seemed somewhat out of place, given his high-flying lifestyle. The stairs were covered in a rich red and gold patterned stair runner. Just off the main hall was the living room, featuring a large, golden couch covered with tan, crimson, and green pillows, funny old recliners that you didn’t have to fear spilling on, and a chunky, old water-stained trunk serving as a coffee table.

  “This place, Blake…it’s so welcoming.”

  “You like it, then?”

  “I love it. Although, I would imagine after spending time in your other place, this one must have been a shock for Blair,” I said, soaking in every dusty book, every bit of peeling wallpaper.

  Blake brushed past me and paused. “I’ve never brought Blair here. I’ve never brought anyone here.”

  My heart stopped. This odd, yet wonderful blas
t of happiness swirled from the deepest part of my stomach to the roof of my mouth.

  “Anyway, living room in there,” said Blake, pointing into the room. “Very comfy couch, by the way.”

  I smiled. “I can see that.”

  “I’ve loved this place since I was kid. Every scratch of the wood or chip in the paint ties me to my childhood. It’s why I come back here. Adulthood has a way of robbing you of your innocence and slowly torturing it right in front of you…and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  He was speaking to my heart. “And then there are the adults who invade childhood and rip it away while you’re still a child,” I mused. “Somehow, you’ve become an adult overnight, yet you lack the knowledge and ferocity to be an adult. You’re a child, but your mind, your heart, the way you see the world no longer fits the views of childhood.”

  He stopped. “I understand.”

  And he did…he really, truly did. We weren’t the Manx and Charlotte, boss and employee…we weren’t even Blake, the trainer, and Maggie, the trainee. We were just two lonely hearts having a real moment. And the heart right in front of me, his deep brown eyes sparkling as he pointed out all the little things he loved about his house, was completely unguarded for the first time since meeting him. It was raw, real, and one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

  “I can see why you love this place, though. When you walk in the door, it hugs you,” I said.

  His smile could rival the sun on a summer’s day. “You’re right. Funny, how something as simple as a few walls can strip you of life’s muck and make you feel loved.”

  “I was the same way with my childhood house. The appliances were so old that you couldn’t trust they’d work with the temperatures required by a recipe. Wallpaper curled and lifted, paint chipped, and the floors were creaky, but I loved it.”

  “Flaws and imperfections make something perfect.” He studied me intently. “Uh, carrying on…the study is right across the hall. What’s a home without books, right? Bathroom…pretty uneventful, until needed, that is. Kitchen’s through here.”

  I was so caught up in him—each laugh line, the enthusiasm in his voice, how his eyes twinkled—that I wasn’t sure when or how we reached the kitchen. The yellow and white tiled kitchen had aged appliances, a rickety breakfast table, and a classic '80s mustard yellow refrigerator.

  “Upstairs are the bedrooms.” His gaze briefly fell to my lips. “But for tonight…we’re going to be out there,” said Blake, opening the glass doors leading to a small courtyard.

  Stepping through the doors, I entered a small oasis. The entire courtyard was enclosed within a glass dome. Colorful Chinese lanterns dripped from the top of the dome like icicles. Plush orange, blue, and cream-colored pillows blanketed the floor. Black paint covered all but one small area of the dome, shielding the courtyard from prying eyes; the area left clear offered a straight shot to the sky above—one could easily forget this place existed in one of the world’s busiest cities.

  “Blake…this is breathtaking.”

  “It’s where I come to escape. I came here a lot when I was a kid. This was my Aunt Lena’s home. She was a playwright, and one of the kindest people you’d ever meet. Unfortunately, Lena was also an agoraphobic—never left the house. This was her favorite spot, right here in this courtyard. She had the glass painted over so no one could see her, but she left that one spot open to the stars.” Blake moved across the pillows to a small hand crank on the far side of the dome. As he turned it, a squeaky sound echoed from above: the lone area of glass not blackened out opened to the night air. “Aunt Lena once told me that if I came here, sat beneath the sky, and stared into the stars, I’d find solutions to every problem, solace for every worry, and peace for a restless soul. It never let me down. After what happened last night…I just thought you might want to give it a try.”

  Breathing heavily, I said, “Will you show me how?”

  With a gentle smile that made me feel safe and secure for the first time in a long time, he took my hands in his and guided me to the middle of the dome, beneath the open roof. “Let’s sit.” Once we were sitting on the world’s most comfortable pillows, Blake said, “Let your mind be still and look up—that’s the answer for everything, isn’t it?”

  “I think I’ve forgotten how to look up,” I said honestly, my gaze fixed on the blue pillow underneath me.

  Squeezing my hands, he whispered, “Let me remind you.” He reached over, running his warm fingers down the side of my face. When the tips of his fingers reached my chin, he gave it a sweet little tweak and gently tilted my head up to face the sky.

  At first, I felt a little silly, but after a few moments, something rather remarkable took hold: faith. In that moment, I knew someone was on my side; someone cared about me.

  “Maggie,” Blake said softly. I slowly tore my eyes away from the starry sky and looked at Blake; it was as though the stars dropped from the sky and landed in his eyes. Who knows? Maybe he has the power to project stars. And now I sounded completely lame and mushy. Lame, I was used to; mushy…not so much. “I’m not going to ask you where your memories took you last night, or what you saw, what you survived. I brought you here so that you know…you’re safe with me. I will never, ever let anything happen to you, no matter what I have to do.”

  The unmistakable strength in his voice and conviction in his eyes convinced even my shielded heart to believe him. Right here, right this second, I actually believed everything regarding my parents would work out.

  I squeezed his hand. “I believe you. Thank you for this. I-I don’t think I’ve ever felt this at peace, at least not in a long time.” For a moment, the bite of a lurking crying-trip startled me. The tears never made it to my eyes, however, and I couldn’t help but smile sadly.

  “What’s brought on that smile?” asked Blake, watching me with wonder.

  “I almost wanted to cry, something I haven’t done since I was seven.”

  “You haven’t cried since your were seven?” he repeated, a mix of shock and concern in his tone.

  “No. I suppose there are events in life that require too many tears. Maybe you use them all up.”

  “But those were sad tears. Happy tears are different.”

  “I don’t know what happy tears are. Or maybe I almost did, just now.”

  “There are better reasons to have those happy tears. You’ll see. One day. I promise you.”

  We’ll see. “Well, uh, anyway…this has to be my favorite training session so far.”

  “Aw, you didn’t think it was going to be this easy, did you?” he teased.

  “Crap.”

  Blake chuckled. “I want you to meditate with me.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Meditate. With me.”

  “Oooh, I don’t meditate. It doesn’t work on me. Meditation is this thing where you’re supposed to sit in silence—I mean, really?—and quiet the brain…not gonna happen. So, yeah, no.”

  “Trust me. It will help you. You said you feel at peace here, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s that inner peace I want you to recognize and be able to call upon in situations that might otherwise create panic or fear.”

  “Fear is part of life. Hell, fear is life.”

  “Just…try it with me.”

  “It won’t work.”

  “The fact that we tapped into your inner calm at all is a giant success. But, I’d like to take it a step further, go deeper. I’ll be gentle.”

  Dear God. “Fine, okay, whatever.”

  “Promise to try?”

  “I promise to try,” I said with a roll of the eye. “Do we have to do the sitting a certain way while touching your fingertips together stuff?”

  “No. Wasn’t even going to suggest it. Figured you’d start laughing.”

  “Yep, among other things.”

  “Oh, I can imagine the flurry of snark you’d unleash on me.”

  “That could still happen. It�
�s building. I feel it.”

  Blake smirked. “Quiet your mind and close your eyes, feisty one.”

  I did as he suggested…for a few seconds anyway.

  “You know, it’s kind of bizarre that Huntslee would allow the stone to be featured at a New Year’s Eve party. It’s risky. Pike said the Halloween party was ideal for recon. Everything just seems too ideal.”

  Resting his head in his hands, he said, “Of course it’s too ideal. They’re setting a trap for me…for us.”

  “You already thought of it.”

  “Not the first time a museum or auction house set a trap for the Manx, love.”

  “So maybe Blair’s obsession isn’t so much because she’s hot over him…it’s because she wants to be the one to catch him.”

  “Never thought about it, but I suppose this essentially verifies as much. Now, can we get back to meditating? The first objective was to clear the mind and close the eyes, remember?”

  I grinned. “Oh. Right. Failed that one.”

  Shaking his head, amused, Blake said, “Yeah, well, it was only your first try. I’ll give you a pass. This time, keep those eyes closed.”

  “Yes, Manx.”

  “I want you to picture a safe place.”

  “Yeah, see, ya lost me right there,” I said, tossing up my hands.

  “Well, that’s not trying.”

  Sighing, I groaned. “Closing the eyes.”

  “Thank you very much.” I cracked open one eye. “Ah, don’t you dare. The point is to get to a place where you no longer realize they’re closed.”

  “Closing 'em.”

  “Now, picture a place where you feel calm.” One corner of my mouth turned up. “You’ve got that place?”

  “I’m in that place. It’s here…right here…with you.” I opened my eyes. He didn’t fuss at me for opening my eyes this time. Instead, he gazed at me the way I’d always dreamed of being looked at by a man, for within his eyes, I saw his heart.

  Closing my eyes once more, I said, “What’s next?”

  “Think of a word you love.”

  “Got it.”

  “Now picture your calm place and repeat your chosen word over and over in your mind.”

  I did as he said, easily picturing myself with him in this glorious little utopia while repeating the word ‘snowflake.’