Chapter 1 #2
A few minutes after turning on the essential oil diffuser, the sweet, rich scent of sandalwood pervaded the room. She sat on a silk rug reserved for her quiet introspections, closed her eyes, and breathed in a deep, rhythmic pattern.
A knock interrupted her five minutes in.
“Honestly,” she muttered as she rose. “Can’t I get anything done today?”
The knocker banged again.
“I’m coming!”
Zac’s hulking shadow loomed outside, visible through the stained glass. He flashed a charming grin once she opened the door. “In the mood for a peace offering?”
He wore dark jeans and a black muscle shirt revealing his broad shoulders and inked biceps.
It took her a moment to realize he’d come with gifts, her gaze lowering to the large serving platter in his hands.
Steak, portobello mushrooms, and purple asparagus covered it from edge to edge.
The smell, tangy and earthy, was absolutely divine. Her stomach gurgled in anticipation.
“Do you always make enough for two?”
Had one of his sexy dates stood him up, allowing her to reap the benefits? Did any of the women she expected him to date even eat steak?
She chastised herself in silence. Assuming all thin girls subsisted on air was as cruel and inaccurate as thin girls assuming she lived on cheesecakes and patty melts all day.
Okay, so she did. Sometimes. Lately, she’d tried to step up her dieting game by including more vegetables and less chocolate, but it hadn’t done much for changing her figure. But she did feel good, and that mattered more than shrinking a few inches from her waistline.
“You brought me tea and helped with my car. The least I can do is feed you in return. So… may I come in?”
“A bottle of wine might have upped your chances, but since you went through all the work…”
“Look under the tray.”
He’d cradled a bottle of red wine between his arms and the tray.
With a sweep of her hand, she welcomed him inside. She’d have to be a crazy person to turn down a free meal and bottle of wine with a sweetheart like Zacarias. “If you put that on the table, I’ll grab some plates, glasses, and silverware.”
As two halves of a duplex, their homes were mirror opposites with two bedrooms and a bath on the upper level, a living room, small bedroom, kitchen, dining room, half-bath, and a breakfast nook on the ground floor.
Her television hung above the fireplace opposite the desk housing the computer.
A sofa bordered one wall, although it was more like two joined recliners than a loveseat.
River glanced at her guest to see his attention fixed on the computer screen. She’d been in the process of painting black tribal tattoos on a naked male torso. A huge jaguar roared in the background some brawny model’s sculpted abdomen and hairless pecs.
“Uh…” Heat rushed to her cheeks. Times like this made her grateful that her darker complexion masked her blushes.
“Book covers, right?”
She ducked her head in a quick nod. “Yeah. Helps pay the bills, between that and my other work.”
“I got curious after I fixed your computer and checked out your portfolio,” he confessed. “Your work is great. Really. If you didn’t already have an awesome business of your own, I’d try to steal you to work as an illustrator at my company.”
“Well, if you ever need a freelancer, keep me in mind. You know, like promo stuff or something. I do concept art when I have the time.”
Zac owned his own business and had recently merged with another company less than a year ago.
The deal had made him filthy stinking rich, from what she’d read in the paper, yet he’d chosen to move to her modest neighborhood in Atropos, Texas.
Although it was less than a half hour from San Antonio, their rural town couldn’t be found on the map.
River disappeared into the kitchen and returned with utensils. Zac hovered near her computer, presumably admiring her work. He peered at the author name. “So, I was hanging around social media and heard some crap claiming Sassy Sizzle isn’t really a woman. Any truth to that?”
“What makes you think I know?” she countered, setting the plates on the coffee table.
“You’ve done all of her covers ever since she went self-pub. Figured you were close.”
She twirled a curl around her finger, stretching the spiral and letting it snap back a few times before releasing it. Sassy Sizzle, her favorite author, was a gay Latino guy from Dallas, Texas. She knew because they’d met for the first time a year ago for coffee, dinner, and a musical.
Zac would have to torture her to get the truth from her lips.
“We are close, and really, even if she was a man, why should it matter? The books are sexy.”
For lack of a dining room table, they settled on her couch instead. She passed Zacarias a plate then made her own, taking modest portions.
“Damn straight they are. I was just going to ask if you knew when the next one would hit the stores.”
River blinked. “I didn’t take you for the type to read romance novels,” she said while cutting the first bite. She raised it to her mouth, and then the flavors exploded against her tongue, making her both envious of his cooking skills and angry she’d probably stuff her face in front of him.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m not really. Like I said, after we talked, I looked up some of your work on your website, followed some links, and I ended up reading a little.”
“How’d you find my site?”
“I’m a computer geek. I know how to google,” he replied, rolling his eyes.
Yeah, a freaking hot computer geek who breaks every stereotype ever uttered about video game designers and computer programmers. She sighed.
“That’s a hot photo you have up on your site, by the way.”
His comment caught her unprepared. Luckily, she had already swallowed her mouthful of steak, staving off a disaster. She stared at him through large eyes, half expecting him to follow it up with a joke.
“Hot? Me?”
“It’s a really good shot of you. I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”
As a rule, she never wore dresses that didn’t fall below her knees, not wanting to show her chunky thighs. A close friend, who happened to be a photographer, promised he’d take the pictures from slimming angles and work all kinds of magic without using Photoshop.
“I actually borrowed that dress from a friend.”
“Shame.”
Clearing her throat, River shifted away to a more harmless, neutral topic. “So, uh, while I have you here, I was thinking about expanding the front garden. Is it cool if I use your yard too?”
He shrugged. “Fine with me. I’m hopeless with flowers. I either kill them with too much water or not enough.”
“Maybe you should stick with a rock and succulent garden,” she teased.
“Smartass.”
River grinned.
Over conversation, they finished most of dinner and drained the entire bottle of wine together before Zac ambled to the door. He’d offered to help wash dishes, but she waved him off and walked him to the stoop.
Standing barefooted, she came up to his shoulder, and lingering beside him by the doorway made her wonder if she should throw caution to the wind and lean in for a hug. Or a kiss. A pleasant buzz courtesy of the wine filled her with wicked ideas.
Zacarias interrupted her thoughts. “Hey. Do you have a black cat?”
She blinked up at him. “No, why do you ask?”
“Oh.” Disappointment flit over his handsome features. He frowned. “There was a black cat I was thinking of taking in. I haven’t seen her around lately, but I used to spot her near your balcony sometimes.”
“I’ve seen her around. She plays in the woods behind our place.” It wasn’t a direct fib, at least.
Giving in to her more innocent impulses, she hugged Zac, thanked him for dinner, and then watched him jog across the yard. Afterward, she rushed upstairs to her bedroom and cracked open the balcony door.
River’s fingers wrapped around the cat’s eye pendant dangling from her neck. It became warm and alive in her hand, polished smooth with a perfect oval shape. A vertical line of green divided it down the middle and reminded her of Zac’s eyes.
“Well, now. I can’t let him worry about me.”
Zac’s catchy R&B ringtone reached him from the kitchen counter when he stepped into the house. A glance at the caller ID revealed his ex-wife’s phone number and a few missed calls.
Disgruntled, he weighed the options and decided declining the call would only give her an excuse to visit in person. Then she’d be at his door in her overpriced Louboutins pleading for him to let her in.
“Shit.” Zac jabbed his finger into the green button and raised the phone to his ear. “We’ve talked about this. I don’t want to see or talk to you.”
“But I’m only five minutes away, sweetie,” Lucia cooed over the line. “Trust me, you’ll be glad to see me this time.”
The last time he’d met Lucia had been in court on the day of their divorce, three months after discovering she’d slept with her agent and her photographer. And everybody else who was willing to dive between her legs.
It didn’t matter to him that the relationship had gone downhill months earlier because he couldn’t trust her to be honest about when the affairs began.
Fuming, he thought of the first signs of her infidelity—when the sex dried up and she became defensive about her cell phone.
They had made love for the last time a month before Zac discovered the truth, engaging in lackluster and passionless sex after he’d taken her out for a night on the town to her favorite places.
All night long, Lucia had behaved like she was obligated to be there on his arm. He’d taken her out for dinner and dancing, but she sulked and checked out her text messages.
Almost two years had passed since their divorce, and he had no desire to try again. Lucia, apparently, was having second thoughts. She’d been hounding him for a reconciliation since the summer began after a year of silence.
“Well turn around and head back to the city.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m already on your road, so I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Lucia disconnected the call.