Chapter Twenty-Three
Twenty-Three
A few weeks later
And Violet was a ticking time bomb.
“Sign here,” muttered Theo’s lawyer, Imogen, pointing at the stack of papers as she towered over Audrey’s tiny ex-roommate. Zoom had not done the woman justice: turned out she was something of an and was nearly as tall as Theo himself.
It made for an interesting picture when she and Violet stood at his kitchen counters.
“And here. And initial here.”
Violet shoved her curtain of sleek, dark hair behind her ear and groaned as she shook out her hand.
“What is his studio, fucking Fort Knox?” Without warning, she attacked the paperwork with such renewed vigor, she nearly knocked the remainder of her latte onto it.
Audrey leapt forward to grab the half-full mug while the wide-eyed lawyer stumbled backward, teetering on chic sky-high red-bottomed handmade Italian leather stilettos.
Violet hardly noticed.
“I swear to God, this better be worth it,” she grumbled while she scribbled the last signature with a pointed flourish. “I need to know what in the actual fuck Theo is doing as art that requires this much secrecy or I am gonna die.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit of an exaggeration?” Imogen’s red-painted lips pursed while a single platinum blond eyebrow soared. “It’s simply a matter of security, not death.”
“Who’s dying now?”
The heavy thump of a cane followed by another and another echoed off Theo’s expensive tile floors as he finally made it up the stairs, not looking too worse for the wear, all things considered.
He’d slipped on the ice on his stoop a few days ago and was still suffering for it, though every day was getting better.
Violet threw her head back. “Me! I’m dying, Theo.”
“You sure about that?” He eyed her wryly.
But she wasn’t to be deterred. “Yes, very sure, because you won’t show me your art without a goddamned NDA.”
“Hey, at least you’re here now, right? And besides, we can’t have you dying. Ali would be so disappointed.”
Fire blazed in Violet’s eyes. “Don’t you dare bring up that prick Alastair Hackett to me, Theodore. I don’t care if you happened to play lacrosse together at Columbia, I don’t want to hear one more fucking word about that man.”
His smile was soft and crooked as he stepped over and jabbed a finger into her ribs, chuckling when she flinched and dodging her retaliatory shove before he made his way to stand next to Audrey.
Once he was settled, he turned to his lawyer.
“Thanks for coming out here, Im.” He extended a hand. “I know it’s a bit of a trek for you.”
Imogen’s hard expression softened as she clasped his hand, her eyes dropping down to his right hip before darting straight back up. “Of course, Theo. You don’t need to be out and about—especially not after having fallen like you did.”
He waved her off. “I’m all right. I’ve had worse.” He jutted his chin at where Violet had decisively slammed her pen down on the counter. “Are we good here?”
Imogen nodded. “I’m satisfied,” she drawled, sweeping the completed NDA paperwork into a fancy zippered leather portfolio. “I believe you’re up. And I’d like to come down as well before I head out—it’s been some time since I’ve had the pleasure of seeing your artwork in person.”
“Ah. Okay.” He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck, which was rapidly turning red. “All right. Um…Violet, I guess you can—”
He didn’t even get to finish before she made a beeline for his studio door.
“No, wait!” He shot his hand up with an alarmed look. “Wait a second! Hey! Come back here, you can’t just—”
“I SIGNED THE FUCKING NDA, I’M GOING IN.”
Theo waddled frantically after her, but it was too late. Violet had already wrenched it open and was at least halfway down the stairs by the time he managed to grab the doorframe to hold himself steady.
“Don’t touch anything or go any further until I get down there! It actually is dangerous!” he called, his voice trembling as he grabbed Audrey’s hand and gripped it tightly. He leaned on her heavily while she helped him down the steep staircase leading into his dark studio.
It was still a little strange, remembering that she’d moved in with Theo only a few short weeks ago.
That his place was now theirs. That there was no more splitting their time between beds, no more schlepping clothing back and forth from the itty-bitty studio she shared with her best friend.
No more having to coordinate schedules or spend time going between his place and hers.
No more missing him when they were apart.
No more café, even—not since she’d started her new job at the sustainable tech startup Greenwise Technologies.
Now she got to wake up every morning wrapped safely in his arms.
Make him coffee over breakfast.
Sit with him in the kitchen while he cooked dinner.
But not as a visitor anymore, because now this house was her home too. Theo was her home. And she was so happy.
Bliss was the taste of him in her mouth.
The sight of him sound asleep next to her in their bed.
The feeling of his body melding into hers.
The scent of roasted coffee beans.
And the sound of Billie Holiday lilting in the air.
“Yeah, yeah, I read the paperwork, you’re not responsible for any bodily harm I may incur,” Violet yelled back, her voice echoing slightly.
“Yeah, but still! I don’t want anything to happen to you!
” Theo’s hand tightened on the cane, making the padding groan and squeak as they rounded the corner and found her waiting at the bottom of the staircase, leaning casually against the wall and smirking in the slim sliver of light pouring down from upstairs.
He still hated using his cane, but admitted that he hated it a lot less with Audrey around now.
“Did you honestly think I wasn’t going to let you do whatever big reveal you have planned? You think I’ve waited all this time only to miss out on that shit?” She stood on her tiptoes and punched Theo fondly in the shoulder. “I just wanted to give you a heart attack.”
“Why?!” he wailed, flashing her a look like she was absolutely out of her goddamn mind. “Do you not think I’ve been through enough this year? A heart attack? Are you trying to kill me? Again?!”
“You’re fine, Teddy.” Violet’s smirk widened. “I’d be willing to bet that the very strongest part of you is your heart.”
He froze and grew quiet, still leaning on Audrey.
“That’s…a-awfully generous of you to say,” he finally stammered, taking another tentative few steps down to meet her at the bottom.
“But for the record, I’m pretty sure it’s actually my chest and back.
I still have trouble gripping a pen sometimes, but I can bench three-twenty-five. ”
“Is that good?”
“Yeah, it’s a lot. I exercise when I’m anxious.”
“I assume that means you work out near constantly, then,” Violet replied, rocking back and forth on her heels while she waited for Theo to hobble over and fiddle with the light switches. “But I’m sticking with my answer.”
“I hope yours is as strong as you think mine is,” Theo muttered as Imogen floated down the stairs after them, her arms crossed over her chest and her face unreadable. Audrey eyed the attorney’s shoes, envying her ease with such tall, pointy heels. “Okay. Are you ready?”
“Boy, am I ev—”
He hit the switch.
“…er.”
All the neon lights in his studio exploded into life.
Violet’s mouth dropped open.
She went completely silent.
This must have been what Theo felt like when he first showed this to me, Audrey thought, watching her best friend take in the full truth of Theo’s secret.
His hands were so warm, hers started to sweat in response.
But Audrey knew he was nervous about this; he always was about sharing the things most precious to him.
The things that mattered most.
Violet, for her part, had gone awfully quiet.
“You—neon?!” she finally gasped, gathering herself as she trotted over to stare at the signage on the far wall.
The large, yellow letters of Sullivan Lightworks were on proud display and took up the most immediate visual real estate.
Violet lifted a hand in wonder as she traced the perfect curves of the massive sign with a single finger.
“You do neon art?” She finally spun on her heel with her mouth fully dropped open.
“Oh my god, that’s so cool! Okay, for real: Do you know Lightm4st3r?
I know I’ve asked you before, but surely you must, especially if you both work in the same medium.
There can’t be that many neon artists working in Brooklyn.
” She wandered around and began peering at some of the other more traditional signs on the wall, standing on her tiptoes to look at the wiring behind them before leaning back and contemplating the colors and the shifting, flashing shapes.
Theo and Audrey exchanged a glance—and then both turned to look at Imogen. The attorney was busy staring in disbelief at Violet, her perfect, platinum eyebrows raised high in surprise.
Audrey met Theo’s gaze again. She shrugged.
He sighed, closing his eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Uh…well, no, there’s not that many of us. It’s a niche art.”
“So you’re saying that’s a yes?” Violet called over her shoulder. “Yes to knowing Lightm4st3r?”
“Yeah, Violet. I know him.”
She spun on her heel and clapped her hands together, shrieking in excitement.
“OH MY GOD IS THAT WHY I HAD TO SIGN THE NDA?!” She trotted back over and ripped his hand away from his face, tugging eagerly at it.
“Can you introduce me? I have so many questions I want to ask him, all about his process and his inspiration and—”
“Well, you’re looking at him, so fire away, I guess.”
Violet quieted. Her face fell.
She blinked.
A little too much.
A little too rapidly.
“What?”
Audrey wasn’t sure Violet was breathing.