Chasing You

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

AlexaRolling over, restless, I threw off my covers. Darkness and quiet settled over my house and the entire neighborhood. I found the button on top of my alarm clock, tapping it twice to brighten the light. 2:16 a.m.

Dammit. The surge of irritation at being awake only made my situation more dire. Now wide awake, I lay staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before deciding I might as well get up and get something done.

I threw on my fleece-lined slippers and trudged over to my desk. With all the activities going on at the gym, I was going to have to pull back my class schedule or find new instructors.

I flipped open the computer and brought up the spreadsheet with a list of classes and newly proposed times. As I tapped away, a social messaging notification appeared at the top of my screen.

What are you doing up at this hour?

London Adam.

Me: Couldn’t sleep so I gave up tossing and turning and decided to work.

Within a minute, my cell phone rang.

I paused before picking it up. “You didn’t have to call to keep me company.”

“I so very rarely have the opportunity to talk to you at a reasonable hour—or at least, reasonable for me. It’s too bad you’re not here. The weather in London has been unseasonably balmy.”

“Maybe I’ll make it back someday. Who knows? Now that her divorce is nearly final, Carrie is toying with the idea of moving back to the States.”

“Surely you have other reasons to be visiting London besides Carrie.”

“Of course. The London Eye. The Tate Modern. London is full of sights.”

“Funny. It seems if I’m ever going to see you again I need to go ahead and make those plans to visit you in Texas.”

“Sure.” I tossed the word out like a distraction to facilitate an escape. “Now is a terrible time to visit, though. We have so much going on with the gym and opening the spa. Maybe you could come over the summer. Or the fall is nice. It’s much less hot by September-October.”

“Not nearly soon enough, but we’ll see. Other than work, how are things? Every time I talk to you it’s nothing except the gym and spa and what you’ve got going on business-wise. I hope you’re leaving time to have some fun.”

I thought back over the previous weeks to New Year’s and knew Adam didn’t likely have that kind of fun in mind for me.

“I’m getting out of the office and the gym once in a while. No need to worry. What about you? Are you working on any new paintings?”

“I had my friend in again to sit for me. You saw my paintings of her when you were here.”

I had indeed. His “friend” was a stunning, leggy woman who enjoyed being n***d. They dated years ago and allegedly that was over, but the running around his apartment n***d wasn’t nearly over.

Whatever. It was none of my business. Maybe a dalliance with the mysterious n***d woman would calm Adam’s ardor.

“Fantastic. You have to send me some pictures.”

“Will do. Well, I’ll let you get back to your work and, hopefully, back to getting some sleep. I’ll get back to you with my travel plans.”

“Sure.”

I said goodbye to Adam and turned back to my computer. He kept pressing for a visit, and I kept putting him off. Eventually, he had to get the hint.

The complications of an overseas relationship weren’t in my future. Neither were the complications of a relationship with my landlord, as tempting as that was. Simplicity—that’s what I wanted.

AdamI vacillated between surprising Alexa or giving her advanced notice before I arrived in Austin.

One week into the New Year, a client sparked my interest in an upcoming trip to Texas for the technology and media conference at South by Southwest. I aimed to make that happen.

Before I got back to my artistic work for the afternoon, I needed to make one more phone call.

“Sandra, hello. It’s Adam.”

“Adam, love, how are you? I was about to call you. I know you’ve been waiting for the final word on Texas. I can tell you for certain now that we’re a go.”

The energy of anticipation surged through me. “Fantastic.”

“Your proposal was spot on, and you’re right. It’s best that you go personally to oversee the implementation. And, frankly, it will save me a trip. I love America, but with my husband and my kids, the idea of two or three months over the pond doesn’t thrill me.”

“No problem. That’s why I’m here. Consider me an extension of your team.”

“Contact my administrative assistant, and he’ll make your travel arrangements. We already rented a corporate apartment downtown for the festival and afterward. You’ll likely want a car, as well.”

“I’ll contact Rafael and book my flight.”

I wrapped up the call with an ear-to-ear smile at having convinced her to extend my engagement with them for a few months. More time billing and more time with Alexa.

I scraped the back of my fingertips down my jawline. I had yet to shave or shower. Instead, my current work-in-progress called me to the canvas early that morning without any substantive break.

The conversation with Alexa replayed in my mind.

My old friend, Martina, sat for me again, as she always did every time she passed through town. Usually, once she stripped n***d with the grey light of London washing her body with shadows, we took a pass through my bed sheets as well.

Not this time. Since meeting Alexa, I’d been able to think of nothing else but the scent of her left on my pillow and the small movements of her body as she shifted and sighed while I sketched her.

She continued to tell me it wasn’t a good time for me to visit, but knowing how skittish she was about starting a more permanent relationship, I put it down to her interminable cold feet. I’d warm them when I got there.

I pulled the vision of her in my mind and pushed it into the brush I held in my hand. This painting was a larger, nearly abstract version of the sketches I did of her when she visited in November.

Unfortunately, she insisted on taking them with her back to the States. Not working from my drawings left me dependent on memory. I knew the shape of her, but I had to reconfigure her form in my mind and my brush each time I conjured her. My neck stiffened.

Lowering the brush, I closed my eyes and drew in a slow, hefty breath before gradually forcing it out between my teeth. I opened my eyes.

Envisioning her on the canvas wasn’t enough. I wanted to see her.

Maybe I should surprise her? No. It was better to let her know that my arrival was at least a possibility. Then, I would call her after I landed. Best not to give her time to push me off with another excuse.

When she saw me, I could pick up where I left off—breaking down the walls between her and the love I knew she wanted. I just had to use our chemistry and my powers of persuasion.