Chapter 7
Three days later, Peter pulled his SUV next to Alexis’s vehicle at her cabin and cut the engine.
Then he gathered his satchel, pressed the button to open the hatch and then put his keys into one of the outside pockets of the satchel.
He pulled a large, wrapped canvas from the vehicle, then used the key fob to close the hatch.
He smiled as he thought of her face when she saw the painting.
She would love it, he was sure. He picked up the canvas with both hands and headed toward the cabin.
When he reached the door, he held the canvas with one hand and rapped on the door with the other.
The closer he got to revealing the painting, the more anxious he got.
He was fairly sure she’d love it. She loved the video games, so she’d love this, wouldn’t she?
The longer he stood there the more nervous he became.
He usually showed his video game paintings to Ray, Nick, and Megan first, so he was just a little nervous.
Alexis opened the door. “Peter. I didn’t expect you. Come in.” She looked at the canvas in his hand. “Is that what I think it is?” She stood back so he could get by her and into the warmth of the cabin.
“If you think it’s your painting, you would be correct.” He walked the few steps to the table and propped the painting against it.
She closed the door, then turned toward him and clasped her hands in front of her waist.
Peter was slow to rid himself of his outer garments. He smiled, knowing she was about to explode with curiosity.
“Peter. I want to see the painting. Hurry up.” She flapped her hand in a hurry up gesture.
He chuckled, not able to stop himself, though he did try. “All right. All right.” Picking up the painting, he carefully removed the paper covering. He watched her, loving her excitement. He couldn’t wait for her to see what he thought of as his masterpiece for the games.
Finally, he turned the picture for her to see it.
Her mouth fell open but no sound emerged.
He stared at her as she stared at the painting.
Alexis cleared her throat and still had no words, then she suddenly pointed with a trembling right hand.
“You painted me? Me? Why would you give me that ridiculous body with those breasts and a waist that’s impossible to achieve?
” Tears formed in her eyes. “Is this truly what you think of me? Am I just a caricature in your game? You’re just like Horace and Ed.
They were more interested in my boobs and my butt than my brain.
” She pointed at the painting. “Obviously you think the same way.”
Peter didn’t know what to say. He thought she would love it. She’d said she played the games and he thought she would enjoy being immortalized in it. How could he be so wrong?
She pointed at the door with her left index finger while her right hand extended across her stomach. “Get. Out. Now. And take your picture with you.”
Anger rose, unbidden. “You ungrateful bi—”
With eyes narrowed she glared at him. “You don’t want to finish that sentence within my hearing. Just as I won’t say the b-word within yours.”
Regaining his patience, he slowly released a breath. “Alexis, I—”
“Get. Out.” She turned and walked into the bedroom, leaving him alone.
He left, closing the door behind him. Shaking his head, he still couldn’t believe what happened.
How could he have read her so wrong? I guess she was right, we really don’t know anything about the other.
And yet I don’t have the heart to change the painting.
What would he do, hang it in his home to remind him of what could have been?
When he arrived at the Simpson cabin, he grabbed the painting and stalked inside.
He set the painting next to the wall and walked to the liquor cabinet.
Peter wasn’t much of a drinker, but he felt like tying one on now.
He prepared himself an Old Fashioned. It was his father’s favorite drink, and he’d acquired a taste for them.
He sat on the sofa and stared at the inlit fireplace for a few minutes before he stood and placed his painting in front of the hearth’s glass doors.
He stared at it for a long time before deciding he’d start a different painting for Alexis. He’d promised her one from the games, and he would honor his words and give her the kind of painting she wanted. It would be a non-player, computer run, character in the next game.
No. So what if they’d talked about doing something from the game. He was painting for himself this time. He loved his ranch and had never painted it or anything like it, so he’d paint that now.
And if she still refused it? asked the little him who sat on his shoulder and was his conscience.
Rather than show her what he would paint, he decided he’d take the painting and his supplies and go home.
He could be miserable there just as well as here.
Of course, he’d come here in the first place to avoid the media and the hounding gallery owners.
What about them? Would they still be after him?
He’d just have to be stealthy. He wouldn’t tell anyone he was coming home.
No one except his pilots and his driver would know.
Peter quickly packed his bags and left the cabin. He wasn’t about to beg anyone to take one of his paintings, no matter how beautiful she was.
As he reached his car, he stopped and dropped his chin to his chest. She’d saved his life, and he’d made her a promise.
He’d never reneged on a promise in his life, and he wouldn’t start now.
His mama would have a fit if she ever found out he was being less than honorable.
The fact he found Alexis beautiful, smart, and courageous had nothing to do with it.
He took everything back inside the cabin.
A week later, Peter had finished working, and the painting was dry. He grabbed the painting and his keys and walked out the door. It was sunny outside and the snow glistened like a billion diamonds covered it. He drove down the rutted, snow- packed road, heading to Aspen and The Armstrong Gallery.
When he arrived, he stopped next to her car and removed the painting from the back seat of the SUV. Since the gallery wasn’t open yet, he stomped up to the back door and pounded on it.
The door opened and Alexis stood there.
“What do you want so early in the morning?” She left the door wide open while she walked back into the small kitchen and started coffee. Then she looked over at him. “Do you want me to heat the whole outside, or are you coming in?”
Peter’s mouth dropped open. Where was the angry woman who had thrown him and his painting out of her cabin?
In her stead was a serene woman, with her red hair falling in waves down the back of the heavy, Kelly-green sweater she wore over a pair of tight black leggings.
“I brought you another painting and I want you to look at it before you throw me out again.”
She sighed and huffed out a breath before wrapping her arms around her waist, her gaze on the floor.
“About that.” She kicked at a non-existent pebble.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry that you painted me into the game.
” She lifted her gaze, meeting his. “It was really very nice of you, but I can’t hang a painting of myself in my gallery. ”
His shoulders slumped. He hadn’t thought of what people would think of that. Probably that she was an egomaniac. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t even think about how it would reflect on you. I just wanted to paint you, and you’d said you wanted something from the game—”
She raised her hand and walked over to him.
Then she placed her fingers on his lips.
“No, you did as I asked. I didn’t give you any parameters or instructions on what to paint.
I should have been flattered. And actually, I was flattered once I thought about it and the way you captured me, even though you gave me that ridiculous figure. ”
He straightened. “You don’t have to worry about that painting. I brought you another one.”
Her eyes widened and her eyebrows lifted. “I’m surprised you could paint another one so quickly.”
“When you’re painting something you love it doesn’t take long. Besides I couldn’t stop once I started.”
She stared at his face. “I can see the dark circles under your eyes.” She pointed at the canvas that faced his legs. “You didn’t sleep at all while you painted this, did you?”
Peter shook his head. “I couldn’t. I was filled with such love that I had to finish or I’d never sleep again.”
Alexis jutted her chin toward the canvas. “Well, show me this painting that you love so much.”
“I will, but I want you to know that if you want it for your gallery, you can have it for a limited time, but I will not sell it.”
She lifted her brows. “You won’t sell it? Why? I need it to save the gallery.”
He smiled and looked down at what he’d painted. “Because in my opinion, it’s the best work I’ve ever done. And you don’t have to worry about the gallery. You’ll sell enough other paintings to save it. I promise.”
Alexis grinned and stepped forward. “Then I must see it. Please.”
Peter looked deep into her eyes, and what he saw gazing back gave him pause. He saw curiosity and excitement, but also regret. Did she wish she hadn’t been so eager to criticize his other work? “What if you don’t like this one any more than you did the last one?”
She looked down and worried her hands, wrapping them around each other again and again.
Then she looked up at him. “I’m so sorry.
I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. The painting was beautiful and perfect for the game.
I realized that after you left, but I wasn’t sure how to tell you or to apologize for my initial response. ”
Peter nodded. “It’s fine but thank you for apologizing.” Then he grinned. “Look at this and tell me that it’s not the best painting I’ve ever done.” He turned the canvas so she could see it.