The Blood Heiress

Lessons and Dresses

Cassian

Her hand was small in mine and sent sparks racing up my arm. I pulled her up off the stool and refused to let it go as I led her behind the bar. She looked at me much like I had expected, impatiently confused with a mix of curiosity. I could not tear myself away from watching her, etching her into my mind. I kept watching her impatience grow at my lack of further explanation.

"Cass?" Her beautiful mouth frowned, her hand slipped from mine. That snaps me out of it, and I transition to what I had planned on showing her.

I grabbed out a few different ingredients and the top shelf vodka. Her curiosity piqued, she watched me intently. "I figure, you might be having such a hard time gaining inspiration because you are having a hard time feeling like it is approachable."

"How is having a drink going to help?" Her voice came out a little more reproving than I expected. Remembering back to the last time she was here I couldn't blame her. Having a negative association would only be normal.

"Not having. Never implied that we are going to be drinking. More of a demonstration followed by a sip for tasting purposes. Though you are certainly welcome to drink more if you choose." Her eyebrows shot up in doubt. But she didn't say anything. "Trust me Dells. I am an expert." I gave her a wink "Mixing drinks is an art form. Putting together an exhibition showcasing art is also an art form." Now she really looked concerned about the direction this was headed. I held up my hands in defense. "Have you ever mixed drinks before?"

"No"

"Then relax a little and give it a chance before you decide it's a waste of time." She crossed her arms but dropped the doubtful looks. I began to mix up the first example. "Art can be created out of literally anything. Drinks count in that." I placed the first completed drink in front of her. "Give this one a try". She took a sip and put it back down.

"It is alright. What is it?" she drank some of her water to clear the taste. So obviously not a drinker. A chuckle left my lips, but I covered with an explanation while I deftly moved on to the next drink.

"A bloody mary. The thing about drinks, and art too, is that there is a finite amount of ingredients to create them out of and a finite number of methods to utilize to create. Some people simply follow the recipe which will be proven to end up a palatable if not boring. Others chose to improvise, which more often than not turns out in a drink that is slightly left of center and only appeals to select people, if anyone at all." The next drink was finished so I presented it to her. It was outwardly the same, but I had messed with the ratios of mix to alcohol. I chuckled as I watched her take a cautious sip and then look panicked. She spit it out into the empty glass I offered her.

"Bleh, why is that one so foul?" I chuckled again as she takes a giant swig of water.

"That is an approximation of the first bloody mary I ever made. I mistakenly believed in my youth that the more alcohol the better." I placed another one in front of her with more mix and less alcohol. "And here is one where the reverse is true. Improvisation isn't a bad thing, but it takes a lot of practice and time to get it right. And time to practice isn't always available to everyone."

"Just tastes like tomato juice."

"Nothing wrong with that, per say, but why would you be happy with that when you wanted a bloody mary?"

"I wouldn't, especially if it cost more." She leaned on her elbows on the counter.

"You are catching on." I smiled at her and started in on the next three all at once.

"I don't think I am. Following the recipe is bad, but not as bad at improvising when short on time and experience? How does this apply?"

"Some people stop improvising after they figure out the recipe is important because it gives them the right ratios. So instead, if they want to be creative with the drink, they embellish it. This can make a previously boring drink look more interesting, but it can just as quickly be overwhelming, choking the drink in too much." I placed the wildly embellished versions in front of her.

"Um...wow," was all she managed as she looked them over. "Bacon, olives, celery, asparagus..." She took an ambiguous looking garnish off of the skewer and nibbled on it. Her eyes opened widely in surprise. "Sugared jalapeño pieces? There is way too much going on with them. I can't even get to the drink without eating my way through the garnishes."

I grinned at her reaction as I finished the last one. "Now for my crowning achievement." It had a few well selected garnishes, but the drink was easily accessible. "Sometimes, you get lucky. And sometimes you are smart. If you can take pieces of what worked from attempts to get creative and really showcase the drink in a way that highlights it and doesn't detract from its essence, that is where you create art."

She looked amused as she surveyed the rather plain looking version in front of her. I could see her weighing its appearance against the former versions. "You know, you sounded like a real expert right there."

"I am so glad you thought so. It would be a shame, don't you think if I turned out I did not know what I was doing after all this time." I gave her a lopsided grin and leaned on my hip against the bar waiting for her to give the last one a try. She finished her inspection of it and took her signature tiny sip.

"Oh, I like the spice in the drink this time." She nibbled on a pickled bean. "This really complements the flavor." I watched happily as she took another sip and tried it with the candied bacon. "It is pleasant." She decried with finality.

"High praise," another chuckle left me as I reached over and wiped off some of the drink from the side of her mouth. "Can you see the connection to art yet? To what you need to do with the exhibition."

"Maybe?" She looked up at me, the same old lack of confidence shining through.

"Think about it for a bit, while I clean up." She moved around front of the bar, sat on a stool and looked at each of the drinks. She finally rested her head against one of her hands. A frustrated sigh leaves her mouth.

"Have you ever tried this analogy with her sister?" Adella looked amused, watching me for an answer.

"Ha, no. She is what I'd call narrow-minded in this respect." I wiped my hands on the bar towel and watched her eyes dart back to the drinks. Her brows furrowed. "Probably would take it as an insult, comparing her high art forms to lowly bar drinks."

"That is what worries me most, Cassian. I don't want to let her down or make her work feel diminished by my amateur abilities." She let out another little sigh.

I pointed at the drinks lined up from first to last. "Then, maybe give these another look."

She shook her head at me in defeat. "I really appreciate you trying to help me, Cass, but I don't get the connection."

Seating myself next to her on a stool, I tried one last time to help her make the connection. I slid the first one in front of her. "What was this one?"

"The one made with the recipe."

"And what was it like?"

"Boring, regular, okay."

"And these ones?" I slid the next two in front of her.

"Too much alcohol, too little. Experiments that were not subtle enough?"

"And...?"

"And they were either disgusting or not bold enough." I paused here and let her wait, forcing her to make the leap. Slowly, I pushed up the third and fourth.

"These two had way too much going on. They covered up the drink, made it impossible to get to...." A light bulb went off, finally. I pushed up the last drink. She grabbed it off the counter. "This one followed the recipe but only added what would enhance the flavor. Focused on a few important things to showcase the drink itself without getting in the way."

I beamed at her; proud she had arrived on her own. Her smile was wide, and her eyes glittered with inspiration and relief.

"Good girl. I knew you could figure it out." Her mind was whirring now with ideas. She turned to her notes and began to edit them.

I moved myself behind the bar again to deal with the remaining drinks. Looking at the time, I was quick to realize it would be time to get the bar ready to open. But first, I made us some lunch. She barely noticed when I set the plate down next her. I cleared my throat and gained her attention.

"Oh, thank you." She grabbed a piece of the sandwich and put down her pen. "I didn't realize I was hungry."

My phone chirped with a message, and I opened it to find my sister had finally given me a reply. "You free tomorrow, Dells?"

"I have work but afterward I am open." She glanced out the side of her eyes and pressed her lips into a thin line, weariness about what I am asking evident.

"What if I had an opportunity to go to THE Valerie Moretti's art studio for a one-on-one consultation?" I enjoyed the way her eyes lit up with my proposition.

"That counts as work. What time?" She pulled out her phone, a big smile shining on her face again.

"Around 10am. I will text you the address." I set my phone down and dug into the sandwich in front of me, going through the mental checklist of tasks ahead of me until opening time.

"Hey Cass," I felt her tentative hand placed on my arm after a little while of comfortable silence. "I have to get going." I straightened up and faced her, despite the light blush spreading across her cheeks. She was relaxed and confident, finally. Maybe one day she will feel confident enough to be herself around me.

"Thanks, Cass. I mean it really thank you." She turned and retreated to the sidewalk outside the bar, waving shyly one last time before she exited.

I hummed happily to myself, a strange sort of warm glow spread through me. I wasn't usually in the business of being someone's teacher or advocate. I sure as hell wasn't interested in developing anyone's potential. Or really investing much time beyond the surface, beyond immediate needs. This was different. It had been a long time since I was compelled to pursue getting to know someone new. I haven't felt the need to be more in a long time. It felt natural for me to assume this role, I slipped right into it. Adella is different.

***

Adella

Valerie greeted me on the sidewalk outside her studio. She was covered in paint but still managed to look serene. "I am so happy you could make it Adella." Her smile was reserved but honest.

"Thanks for letting me come over and pick your brain a bit." She motioned me in the door and pointed me up the stairs to the second story loft space. Light streamed through the industrial plate windows, bathing every corner in light. I would never have guessed that Valerie would be found in such a messy space. Paint and dust were on every surface. Her completed works occupied space against the far wall. Along all sides were photos large and small. I caught a few of Cassian and her, as well as photos without either of them in them.

"Give me a moment to clean up myself and I will be right back." I looked back over towards her and nodded. "Should I get some tea going?"

"Yes, please, that sounds wonderful."

A few photos caught my eye as I wandered towards her desk. They were taken of Valerie and some notable people. One in particular drew me in. Valerie was at an exhibition next to her was none other than Evander Santos. His icy blue eyes and perfect face seemed to look right through me. He looked every bit the same as the day I met him. Valerie did as well. This must have been taken rather recently.

I heard the kettle go off somewhere behind the wall to my right. It was quickly silenced, then I heard Valerie's soft footsteps moving towards the studio. She reentered with a tray in hand, her paint-splotched clothing had been changed. She looked every inch the high society woman I imagined her to be.

"Here, come sit over by the window so we can have a proper chat." I followed her obediently to a lounge area at the windows set aside from the main workspace. I took the seat opposite of her and placed my bag on the floor. "My brother said you needed to run some ideas past me and were curious about my signature piece for the collection."

"Yes, that is right. I wanted to make sure that I caught you up with what I was thinking to make sure that we are on the same page." She nodded and started getting the tea ready.

"Cream or sugar?"

"Both please." She added them both in and handed me a beautiful and dainty cup. She sat back and got comfortable in her chair and looked straight at me. I felt that I might be on trial for a moment.

"I will be honest with you; I don't have my signature piece quite perfected yet. It is giving me quite the headache. I know what I want, can see it in my mind, but I can't get it translated onto the canvas exactly the way it needs to be." She looks down into her cup with a sad expression.

"Oh, well, I don't have to see it today. It was more of a want, less of a need." I shrugged, trying to convey how little its unfinished state affected me. She shook herself a little and looked back at me with a fixed smile that didn't quite meet her eyes.

"No matter then, I will have it done by the exhibition. I have yet to put an incomplete collection on display. Now, then, let's hear these thoughts you have and see how they fit with my vision." I carefully grabbed my notes and turned to my newest ones. The ones that I had been inspired to take after my impromptu lesson with Cassian yesterday. I blushed a little at the thought of him and hoped Valerie hadn't noticed. I handed them directly to her and waited for her to give her verdict. The tea was a welcome distraction to have in hand to pass the time.

"I believe you have done a fantastic job capturing the essence of what my collection is about. It is simple and understated. But I believe it will do the trick of luring the attendees into the overall theme without being ostentatious about it. You even have it planned down to the food for the caterers. And the playlist for the event is spot on." Her voice carries a happy note, and I am filled with joy that I had succeeded. "I especially like that you left out any decorations. Those are just so amateur and pedestrian, something you see at parties, not galleries. When I had asked you to head up this event, I had assumed you had some experience. But then my dear brother mentioned that you had no experience whatsoever. Momentarily, my faith wavered a bit, but I chose to trust in where you would take this because I had an excellent feeling about you. You give off such a strong aura." Her green eyes, that resemble her brother's are fixed on me as she reveals her praise and doubts. I held back the urge to squirm under her gaze, keeping my shoulders squared.

"I was not expecting such a generous offer from you. I simply wished to meet you. But I am grateful that you gave me a chance."

"As am I." She handed the book of notes back to me and sat back in her chair, hands folded in her lap. "Is there anything else you might need for the exhibition?"

"Just the final piece, whenever you are ready with it. And perhaps a recommendation for a*****e to find a dress for it. I would like to find something that matches the theme and adds to the event as a whole." I stowed the notes away and finished my tea.

"Excellent thought, I also need to find something. I know some of the best formal shops in the city." She sat up excitedly at the thought. "Perhaps we should make it a girl's day." She pulled out her phone. "I am free the rest of the afternoon. What do you think? Does that work for you?" She seemed genuinely excited at the thought of shopping together. Who am I to say no?

"Oh, uh, yes that works for me." I managed a smile, trying to match her energy.

"Oh, excellent,! I will call a car and we will be on our way."

"Do you mind if I ask a friend to join us?" I asked, hoping I wouldn't offend.

"Not at all, I will text you the address of the first shop to have them meet us there!" She happily phoned in the request for a car and then gathered up the tea tray. I texted Verity to see if she could join us. While waiting for a response and for Valerie to return, I watched the city outside the windows, two stories below, and wondered what this unexpected shopping trip might bring.