Watercolor Hearts (Watercolor Love Book 1) Read online

Page 7


  Baffled at what Pike could have done wrong, I asked, “What happened? It’s kind of self-explanatory.”

  Blake laughed. “It is…unless Greg wants to screw with you.”

  “Oh God, I bet that was hilarious.”

  “It always is with those two. They have a love/hate relationship. Kind of like you and Ivy seem to be forming.”

  “Ah, yeah, you noticed that too, huh?” I shook my head. “We could eclipse Greg and Pike in the love/hate category, only minus the love.”

  Chuckling, Blake said, “Well, I won’t deny that it’ll be interesting for the men to watch.”

  “Super.”

  Blake checked his watch. “Anyway, it’s almost four-thirty in the morning. I have to be at the office by eight. Think it’s time to get you home.”

  “Sounds great. I need my bed…badly. I know you’re an insomniac, but how do you manage everything on what little sleep you’re able to wrangle? I mean, I can function on little-to-no sleep, but then I’m not running a multi-million dollar business…and I’m not the Manx.”

  Shrugging, he said, “I guess I’m used to it. It’s a luxury to get four or five hours of sleep. You really do need to get as much sleep as possible, though. You can come in afternoons to do research and continue getting to know the team, but getting sleep in between training sessions is crucial.”

  “Order from the boss to sleep in? Music to my ears. When do we do this again? Next week?”

  “Next week? Try midnight.”

  “I’m sorry, I think my muscles are crying.”

  “Which is why we train daily. The more you train, the less those muscles will weep and the more they will want to whip ass.”

  I’d love to whip ass right now. Blake’s ass. Although, at this moment, I wasn’t certain exactly how my brain was defining ‘whip.’

  Chapter Five

  One month on, and my body was at least handling warm-ups a bit better. Blake still had me deep in technique training. My competency at learning effective movements had improved; putting said movements into action may be a different story, but my anticipation outweighed any reservations weighing on my mind. Feeling empowered was an unparalleled sensation, and, despite my sore, screaming body, I relished every training session, envisioning the day I would come face to face with the evil that took my parents from me.

  Between training sessions, my post-sleep, daylight hours were spent in the hub, learning the computer system, familiarizing myself with all the high-tech gadgets, and researching for extraordinary pieces that would entice Manx clients. I took every opportunity to dig through client files. I didn’t even know what I was looking for, and yet I longed to find even the tiniest morsel: a name I might recognize; a picture with familiar eyes; or quotes that may awaken the faintest a wisp of a memory. My desperation for anything that could tie the here and now to my parents grew with every click of the mouse. To date, I’d found nothing. Apart from coming across some rather shocking self-professed, holier-than-thou politicians and esteemed business icons, I’d come up empty on anything that could help me find my parents’ killer.

  In just over an hour, I would meet Blake for training. Tonight, he planned to introduce me to something new. What that ‘something’ was, I had no clue. Knowing him, it was sure to be unexpected and challenging. I sighed loudly as I plopped down at my desk beside Greg.

  “Tired?” asked Greg.

  “Not really. Just wondering what Blake has in store for me tonight.”

  Greg leaned back in his chair. “Times like these, I’m thankful Blake crossed me off the training list due to my physique being firmly in the skeletal category.”

  Giggling, I said, “I don’t blame you there.”

  “Would I like muscles? At times, yes. But then the mental image of me lifting weights drifts across my mind and I’m instantaneously terrified.”

  “Eh, you don’t need muscles, not with a brain that thrills and terrifies all.”

  A giant smile stretched across Greg’s face. “I suppose there is something to having an outstanding brain, even if it means being chained to a computer all the time.”

  I rolled my chair closer to Greg. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “You just did,” he said with a grin.

  “Nice. But, Greg, have you ever just had a night for yourself?”

  He pushed his glasses up his nose. “You mean for fun?”

  Laughing, I said, “Yeah, exactly!”

  “I think maybe one time I…no. I’ve never even been drunk. Zero tolerance.”

  “Okay, I may not be an expert on ‘fun’, but I have been drunk. And while I don’t recommend face-plant, toilet bowl-hugging drunk, alcohol can, on occasion, provide some amazingly freeing few hours, as bad as that may sound.”

  His eyes brightened a bit before clouding over once more. “I couldn’t possibly. Far too much to do here.”

  “One of these days, I’m going to get you drunk, Gregory,” I promised. “At least it’ll be one thing to cross off your list.”

  “Except I don’t have a list.”

  “Oh, everybody has a list, even people who don’t think they do.”

  Greg smiled widely. “I like you. You’re not a prick like Pike, or utterly horrifying like Ivy.”

  “I’ll take that. What about Blake and Ty? How would you categorize them?”

  Greg shrugged. “Ty’s nice enough, but he keeps to himself most of the time. Blake is…Blake.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m not sure how to explain it, but it’s as if he’s an energy unto himself.”

  I simply nodded. Though my brain couldn’t quite make sense of Greg’s words, my gut knew exactly what he meant. Blake was both a foregone conclusion and a mystery begging to be solved. He was, by far, the most complicated-uncomplicated man I’d ever met.

  While mentally chewing on Greg’s words, my eyes fell upon his primary computer screen. A small file icon labeled ‘Shade’ caught my attention.

  “Greg, what is the Shade file? I don’t have one on my computer,” I asked.

  Greg’s shoulders stiffened as he hovered over his keyboard. “It’s only accessible by me, Ivy, and Blake.”

  “Not Pike or Ty?”

  “They don’t need access to it.”

  “And I don’t need access to it.” Greg nodded. “Well, surely you can tell me what it is, can’t you?”

  “I don’t see any harm in that,” Greg said, exhaling loudly. “They’re some of our biggest clients.”

  “Bigger than bigwig businessmen and politicians?”

  “Way bigger. Clients in the Shade file don’t want to be known. Their identities are buried beneath agents. Basically, it’s a collection of names—people who front for the actual buyers. These particular clients go out of their way to ensure we never uncover their true identities. Ivy and I work on unveiling them. Better leverage, you know.”

  “Have you ever been able to discover any them?”

  Greg tilted his head, somewhat cockily. “Please. Of course we have. We’ve been able to reveal a fair few. Some are tougher than others, though.”

  “You call it the shade file because these clients hide in the shadows in a blanket of darkness,” I mused. “They’re shady.”

  Surprised, Greg said, “Precisely. I’ve set it up so we can search every possible identifying characteristic, from tattoos to scars. It’s incredibly thorough. Only a matter of time before we identify them all.”

  I swallowed hard. “I get why I wouldn’t have access, being new to the group and all, but why not Pike or Ty?”

  Greg took a deep breath. “It’s not a trust issue. Just, some of these clients have deeper, questionable connections. Blake wants to keep them as close to the vest as possible. If anything odd happened, the fault would rest with one of only three people—Blake, Ivy, or me. Of course, in reality, it wouldn’t be Blake, so I suppose Ivy and I are the ones with our heads under a permanent guillotine. Can’t say I blame Blake for being so cautious.
Some of the names we’ve discovered would shock and terrify you.”

  My gut churned like a violent, angry sea as a chill ran up and down my spine: the key to uncovering my parents’ killer was in the Shade file.

  “Hey, you’re going to be late for training,” said Greg, startling me from my thoughts.

  “Oh, yeah, I better get down there,” I said, somewhat mechanically. “I did find a few potential targets that will be in various museums around the city in the next few weeks. Nothing thrilling, unfortunately. Still, there might be one or two pieces that would appeal to someone in your Shade file.” I handed Greg the small list of items.

  “I’ll take a look, thanks.”

  “I’d give them to Ivy, rather than bog you down, but she’s not here. Again.”

  “She comes and goes a lot. She’s kinda stealthy.”

  “I’m getting that. Well, I’m off. And don’t forget…you’re due a night of relaxation, my friend.”

  He closed his eyes and tilted his head. “Not really. Maybe. I really am. But I’m better in here than I am out there.”

  “Nothing says the party can’t be brought to you. See ya.”

  “Later,” said Greg, nervously laughing and immediately going to work on the list I gave him.

  The Shade file consumed my mind while walking to the training building. Ideas on ways to get into that file bounced off the corners of my mind like mad, demonic balls in a pinball machine. By the time I reached the seventeenth floor for training, my mind and body were buzzing on another level and hungry to get physical with Blake.

  “Late, love.” Blake leaned casually against the balance beam; it was the only time my mind had ever considered a balance beam a sexy apparatus.

  “By barely five minutes,” I replied coolly, approaching him. “So, we’re working on balance tonight?”

  “Well, well, look who’s on point. ‘Course I guess my leaning against the thing helped with your deductive reasoning.”

  “Ha, ha, funny.”

  “Eh, not my best material.” Pushing off the beam, he positioned himself directly opposite me. “Assuming your attacker is a man, you’ll have to adjust your strengths to match his weaknesses. To overcome a man, you have to use his weight and height against him. You’re smaller, more petite, which means you’re also more agile. Aim low to knock your assailant off balance. With me so far?”

  “Think so. I could also knee him in the balls.”

  Dropping his head, smirking, Blake said, “There’s always that, as you’ve mentioned several times since I’ve known you. Should I be concerned about your unhealthy obsession with the knee-to-manhood move?”

  I shrugged. “Depends.”

  “Of course it does,” he groaned. “At least acknowledge there are other body parts to attack besides the obvious. Eyes, nose, throat, and stomach all offer enough time for you to either get away—”

  “Or land my next hit…in the balls.”

  This time, after a brief pause and a shared blank stare, giant smiles stretched across our faces. It was one of those simple moments in life that had absolutely no substance, yet somehow touched a lonely place deep within the soul.

  “Okay, feisty one, get up on that beam.”

  Climbing on the beam, I said, “How exactly does this help my balance against an opponent?”

  “The beam goes much further than mere physical balance. It teaches you to not only balance your body, but your mind as well. Unexpected things happen, catching you off guard, and when they do, you can lose focus, otherwise known as mental balance. Maintaining mental balance is as critical as physical balance, if not more so. A clear, focused mind is what allows you to properly defend yourself.”

  “I get it. So, what now? Just walk back and forth on it?”

  “Uh, yeah, pretty much.” There was a glimmer in his eye that told me he had more in mind.

  “Right. I know you’re up to something.”

  “Can’t imagine what would give you that idea.” Blake stood with his arms crossed, watching me walk from one end of the beam to the other.

  I wasn’t too bad with the beam, despite a few wobbles. On my third ‘lap’, I swiveled around and in the midst of taking one step forward, a bloodcurdling scream unleashed from the corner of the training room.

  And down I fell.

  “Christ. She fell on the first attempt. This is going to be a long night, Blake.” Ivy appeared from behind a training dummy.

  “I knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as walking back and forth,” I growled, getting back to my feet.

  “We’re going to make your night a living hell,” said Ivy. “I’ve been looking forward to this since you first walked in the hub.”

  “Fantastic,” I grumbled.

  “Up ya go,” instructed Blake.

  I once again climbed up and started my trek along the beam. When I hit the midway point, a knife flew in front of my nose. I wobbled…and fell, yet again.

  “Dammit!” I cried, slamming my palms against the mat.

  “Hey there, Maggie,” said Ty, waving a knife at me.

  “Hi, Ty. Thanks for missing my nose. I actually really appreciate that.”

  “Aw, I wouldn’t hit you,” said Ty.

  Blake offered me his hand to help me up. “Thanks,” I muttered, taking his hand, my ego bruised. “Oh, I don’t think you’d mean to de-nose me, Ty, but that was a little too close for comfort.”

  “That’s the point,” Blake interjected. “Most of what we do is ‘too close for comfort’. You have to get used to it and learn not to let it rattle you.”

  “And if it does rattle you, even for a millisecond, you need to be able to recover in half that time,” offered Ivy.

  “Let’s go again then.” And so began my unconventional beam routine once more. After a handful of laps, Pike jumped out and tossed a big rubber ball at me. It bounced off the side of my face, and though I teetered terribly, I managed to stay on the beam. “Seriously? Did I travel back in time just now? Are we in sixth grade gym class? Is this dodgeball?”

  Everyone laughed as Pike picked up the ball and quickly chucked it at me. This time, I smacked it right back at him.

  “I always loved dodgeball,” said Pike, twirling the ball in his hands. “Didn’t you?”

  “Not especially,” I growled.

  With all of his strength, Pike tossed the ball at me again and again and again, only I managed to stay upright and punch it back in his direction each time. On one especially hard toss, I felt a tug on my arm; though I had to put my hand on the beam, I managed to kick whoever had my arm while getting low enough to miss being hit by the ball.

  “Nicely done!” I turned to find Blake rubbing his chest area.

  “Oh! I’m sorry!” I said, just realizing I’d kicked him.

  Blake shook his head. “Don’t be, Maggie. You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”

  Ivy crawled up on the beam opposite me. “You have to get around me.”

  “You’re kidding? Not even a gymnast could get around you.”

  “Maybe that is asking too much.” She hopped down and moved closer to me, grinning.

  “Yeah, I don’t trust that grin,” I said.

  She shrugged one shoulder and half-closed her eyes. Knowing I had to carry on, I focused on my balance and tried not to wonder what Ivy was up to. All it took was one step before I felt her hand running up my leg. After a successful streak of staying atop the beam, Ivy’s hand sent me falling at a very bizarre angle. Fortunately, I fell right into Blake’s arms.

  A tiny gasp escaped me as his arms enveloped me. My hands instinctively caressed the base of his neck, fully enjoying the feel of his silky hair. Our eyes locked on each other. While the moment amounted to no more than a blink in time, it felt like a lifetime. All too soon, my eyes dropped and Blake quickly set me down.

  “Guess we know what side you play on, given your overreaction to a woman’s touch,” scoffed Ivy.

  Flipping to face her, I said, “Oh, really?�
� I hopped up on the beam. “You know what, Ivy? Do it again. In fact, do whatever you want…I’m not falling off.”

  Ivy cracked a smile. “She’s got spunk. Can’t train that kind of thing into her.”

  Sneaking a peek at Blake and seeing the pride radiating in his rich brown eyes, a rush of determination coursed through me. So, I spent the rest of training being groped by Ivy, dodging or batting back balls, and trying not to waver as knives zipped past my face. All of this coupled with the occasional tug on my clothing, random screams, and blindingly bright flashes of light, and it was safe to say this training session officially won the prize for Most Chaotic. Although my heart stopped a few times, even lurching into my throat on a couple of occasions, I stayed on that damn beam until Blake ended our session.

  “Okay, that’s enough for tonight.”

  “Aw, Blake, I had more territory to cover,” said Ivy, tapping her fingers on my leg.

  Stooping to sit on the beam, I said, “Think you covered enough territory tonight.”

  “Not even close. I went PG on you.” Pausing beside me, she whispered, “Not horrible, newbie.”

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling.

  “I’m heading back to the hub, Blake. Have some things to look into.” Sauntering from the room with Pike and Ty in tow, Ivy waved over her shoulder.

  “Night guys,” I called.

  Blake handed me a bottle of water and joined me on the beam. “Nice job tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  Nudging me with his shoulder, he said, “Want to hear a secret?”

  “Always.”

  “It took Ivy two full training sessions before she could finally maintain balance on that beam.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “Not in the slightest.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Yeah. Her temper kept getting the best of her. Think she even grabbed a knife and threatened Ty.”

  I started laughing. “No!”

  “Yes. And she threw a ball so hard at Pike, she broke his nose.”

  “Wow.”

  “Needless to say, I think you impressed the gang tonight, Ivy in particular.”

  Pride swelled within me. “Does that include you?”