Chapter 15 #2
What she didn’t know—what he couldn’t say—was that her coming into his life, being his muse, had taken his work to the next level.
“I love that pigments aren’t technically part of our art embargo.
You know…when I officially set the date of my first show, we can throw down those walls of Jericho, so to speak, and talk about art all the time. ”
Or perhaps before, even. He got all giddy thinking about it.
Beverly would have to send over photos of his work to Phoebe for the show, he imagined.
Of course she could swing by the studio to see the originals; she’d already seen the ones at Nanine’s.
Beverly would guide him on that little dance, and he was happy to let her.
He didn’t want to get in the middle of Phoebe’s conversations with Beverly, especially before everything was hammered out.
His new powerful agent and his girlfriend needed to talk without him being in the middle.
Less complicated. More professional. Win-win for everyone.
She bit her lip, the light in her eyes waning a little. “Not all the time, I hope. I cannot tell you how much I’m enjoying the way things are. I think this is the longest period of my life where I have never spoken of art. I kinda love it.”
Given what she’d shared with him about her upbringing, he understood what she was saying. “Good. Then we will continue to enjoy it.”
She sent him a wink. “Besides, it’s not as if I don’t know your art career is going well. You beam like the sun.”
“So do you,” he said pointedly.
They shared a conspiratorial smile.
“You might want to come over here, Dr. Jackson,” she called, wandering a little ways away. “There is a very informative note about turquoise and its use in painting. In French only. Good thing you know it.”
He wandered over with his blood racing. Sure enough, the museum’s note mentioned the stone’s use going back to Egypt.
Like he’d just thought. They did know their paints.
Those colors were still intact in the Karnak Temple and others, which Sawyer hoped to see someday. “You ever think about going to Egypt?”
She put her arms around his back, resting her cheek against his shoulder as they both gazed at history. “Since I was a kid.”
He lifted his head, feeling a moment of certainty. The greats talked about epiphanies arriving. He didn’t need a mountain. He only had to listen to the cadence of his heart, as Nanine always said.
Phoebe’s gorgeous, dancing eyes were waiting for him, more lustrous than the best green stones around them. “We should go sometime. I’d like to see the paintings that used those pigments.”
He realized it wasn’t only Thea’s wedding he wanted to attend with her.
Her smile swept across her face, so radiant and powerful she could have banished all darkness from the land. “I’d love that.”
He knew her voice. At times it contained staccato enthusiasm. Droll humor. This was the voice of a soft romantic, a dreamer who feared being disappointed but still hoped. “It’s a date. Maybe after my first gallery show when I can take some time off.”
Because his mind was already leaping to make plans for their future.
He could see them going to Egypt together.
In fact, he could see them doing everything together.
She was becoming his person, that single special being he wanted to cling to forever.
Again, he thought of the meteorite and the coin.
“I’ll figure out a way to take some time off too,” she said quietly, if a little hesitantly, as if the moment’s full force had arrived for her as well and her emotions were still trying to catch up.
The promise was struck. As if to seal it, she tipped her head up and kissed him softly. He fell into the lushness of her mouth. When she drew back, he wrapped his arm around her waist, still wanting her close.
“By the way,” he began, realizing it was easier to ask this than he could ever have imagined. “What are your plans for the holidays?”
She hummed the first bars of “New York, New York” before responding, “I’m heading across the pond to spend it with my dad and meet up with some friends starting the twenty-third. I get back on the thirtieth. I was meaning to ask you… Do you have plans for New Year’s?”
Nothing could stop his smile from spreading across his face. Thea’s wedding was out, but he couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than starting the New Year with Phoebe.
“Dean and Jacqueline are hosting a party,” he told her. “I know you met some of my roommates under strange circumstances, but I’d like you to meet everyone when the time’s right. When you feel comfortable—”
“You talk to them about it and let me know.” She looped her fingers through a curl on his forehead, tugging it playfully. “I’m amenable. I’ll even bring a white flag of truce if you feel it’s necessary, although by now, I’d hope they would know how supportive I am of you.”
She was talking personally as much as professionally, which made his heart beat a little faster. “They do, and we’re all happy about it.”
He leaned in and kissed her softly again, until he heard her breath catch.
“Have we just taken things to another level, Dr. Jackson?” she asked, fervently pressing her cheek against his.
“I believe so,” he responded, caressing the back of her neck as her red tresses moved like silk against his hand.
She edged back and fingered the collar of his coat, running her hands down his chest. “What do you think about taking things to an even higher level by coming home with me tonight?”
His heart went from a delighted racing to a happy gallop. He only smiled as he stroked her cheek. “Would I mess up the romance if I asked how soon we can leave?”
Her gusty laugh echoed in the empty room. “Does takeout sound good? I have this incredible Lebanese place I order from.”
“Perfect.” He held her hand as they walked to the exit, colored lights from the stone displays dancing across her face, making him feel as if he were in Lewis Carroll’s Wonderland.
As they reached her building, he smiled at the sign for her gallery. She noted it, waggling her brows, before drawing him in and up the stairs with a cheeky smile.
He learned her bold style wasn’t only for her clothing and that she liked to listen to Django Reinhardt in Paris when it was raining like he did.
Takeout came and went, and that’s when the real magic began.
Their minds had come to know each other well.
Now their bodies answered the questions that had lain unspoken between them in the exquisite mysteries of man and woman coming together.
Much later, after he lay with her in his arms, their sweat mingling and trickling down his chest, he whispered into her hair a piece of Shakespeare pulsing in his mind along with his body.
No sooner met but they looked;
No sooner looked but they loved;
No sooner loved but they sighed…
She clutched him to her with all her heart, and he felt himself ascending to another plane of existence, the ones mystics speak of—the union of the body and soul with another—as he recited the lines of a poem that sprung up to the forefront of his mind.
Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
but never doubt thy love.
A smile spread across his face as he inhaled her fully, her scent of woman and spice one he never wished to be without. He didn’t need CliffsNotes to know that she got what he was saying and replied in kind.
They were in love.