“A… Anne, Anne Johnson. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Spade. Your work is quite amazing… breathtaking,” I said, with a shy smile.
“Thank you… I'm glad you feel like that because I would love to paint you… though I would want to portray every single detail that makes you this amazing woman…” he said, with what sounded genuine admiration.
“Spade, I was looking for you.”
Wells showed up before I was able to utter a word, which was a good thing since I had no idea how to respond to the man’s offer. Wells slid his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him… so close his warmth set my body on fire.
“I see you’ve met Anne,” Wells added with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Oh, she’s with you, Wells?” there was a clear disappointment on Spade’s tone.
“Yes, she’s with me,” Wells assured him, pulling me even closer.
“I was just telling her how much I would love to paint her. You don’t often meet someone so exquisitely beautiful like your friend,” Spade said, his eyes traveling up and down my body, making me feel a little too uncomfortable.
“I know what you mean… though your style wouldn’t exactly do her justice,” Wells pointed out, signaling the paintings scattered around the room.
“I would use a very different style to paint her…” Spade assured him.
“I’ll consider your offer if we decide it’s the right time,” Wells said as if he was entitled to make decisions on my behalf. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have another appointment this afternoon.”
“Sure, you know how to get in touch with me,” Spade accepted his defeat in a chivalrous manner and stepped aside.
Wells guided me out of the galleria, and I waited until we were alone to interrogate him. “What the hell was all that?” I asked him, sounding more upset than I actually felt.
“Spade is known to bed all his models. I was just saving you,” he replied.
“Saving me? Or making sure no one took what you want for yourself?” I mocked him, just a little, but his reaction had been unexpected, and I wouldn’t be human if I hadn't felt flattered watching them fight over me.
Well, ‘fight’ was a bit of an exaggeration… but it still felt good.
He snorted but made no comment whatsoever.
“Are we really going somewhere else, or was that just an excuse to leave the show?” I asked as he drove away from the parking lot.
“Yes, we are going somewhere else,” he replied succinctly.
“Where?” I asked, curious. He hadn't mentioned we were to go anywhere else.
“My mother is expecting me for tea,” he said in a dark tone.
My mouth dropped open. “Your mother? Oh… well, yes… I see. You can drop me off anywhere. I’ll take a cab back to your place,” I replied, feeling a bit confused.
“You’re coming with me,” he announced and surprised me even more.
“I am? Why?”
He glanced at me, his eyes as dark as stormy skies. “Is there a problem?”
“No… no, of course not. I'm just surprised you want my company… that’s all,” I mumbled, though surprised was the understatement of the century.
Every time I thought I had managed to understand him a bit more, he would pull one off to shatter the ground underneath my feet. What an impossible man.
His mother lived outside Seattle in ahugemansion over a cliff with one of the most fabulous views I had seen in a long time. I’m not exactly sure what I had been expecting, ever since he mentioned this visit, but the woman standing in front of me was certainly not it.
In her early fifties, Madeleine Wells was an incredibly beautiful woman that looked more like Jayden’s older sister than his mother.
“Jayden darling, I’m glad you could make it,” she said, in a cheerful tone, as she got up from the couch where she was sitting. “And you brought a friend…” her cheerfulness faded when she saw me right behind her son.
