Chapter Ten Lena #2
When I get to my room, I see that Gideon has already brought the rest of my things upstairs. The shoeboxes sit by the end of the bed. My art supplies are on the desk by the window, and there’s a small box of the few toiletries I ordered as well.
After getting all that stowed away, I grab my new charcoal set and a pad and walk downstairs and out to the deck, plant my ass on the top step, in what I’ve now claimed as my spot, and start to sketch, and it feels like I can finally, fully breathe.
God, I’ve needed this.
I usually only work with black charcoal, but I also ordered colors. Today I’ll work with gray scale, but I can’t wait to try to capture the sunrise on another day.
Time is irrelevant when I’m drawing. I’m so absorbed in it that I don’t even realize that Gideon has joined me until he sits next to me and passes me a bottle of water.
“Drink this.”
Pausing, I take the bottle and sip it, then set it down next to me and keep sketching.
I’m having issues shading the water just the way I want it. Rubbing it with my thumb, I pause and look up before brushing my hair off my face, taking in the view.
Gideon’s hand comes up, and he swipes his thumb over the apple of my cheek.
“You have a smudge right here.”
“I always make a mess when I work,” I tell him. “It’s part of the fun. Luckily, all this washes out of clothes easily.”
“You’re damn good, Lena.”
For the first time since I sat down, I hold the page up and take in everything that I’ve already drawn. I have the mountains done, but I can’t get the water quite right.
“The shoreline over here is fighting me.”
“It’s perfect, just the way it is.”
Pressing my lips together, I glance over at him.
“You should sell your work. Why aren’t you in galleries?”
“You and Chelsea actually agree on something. Hell must be chilly today.” I smirk and smudge my fingertip over that shoreline again.
“Art is the one thing that wasn’t ruined for me by my mother’s presidency.
No one really knows about it, other than a few close people.
I haven’t had to talk about it in interviews or show it off.
Do you know that during her second campaign, People magazine came into the White House to look at my bedroom? ”
“Yeah.” His voice is rough. “I remember.”
He wasn’t around anymore by then, and I hated that he was gone. Everything was still so raw and empty.
“My life is an open book.” I start to shade in clouds.
“Everything from my SAT scores to my prom pictures to my shoe size. My literal shoe size was discussed in Marie Claire one year. I don’t know why that’s important, but whatever.
I didn’t want to share this piece of me with anyone.
Not to mention, I don’t love the attention that I get because of who my mom is. It feels weird.”
“Why?”
He’s a really good listener.
“Because I’m not doing anything. I’m not signing executive orders or putting laws into effect or changing the world. I have no say, and it’s not me in the job. Just like if my mom was a pilot. I’m not the one flying the plane. Why would anyone want to talk to me about her job?”
I shake my head and go back to that shoreline.
Why won’t it work?
“I would have been happy if she lost.” Those words are whispered, and I feel so guilty for voicing them out loud. “And that’s a shitty attitude. I’m not complaining.”
“No, you never complain.”
I frown over at him. “I don’t like to complain. I’m as privileged as it gets, Gideon. I don’t even have to list all the reasons. They’re glaringly obvious.”
“It’s okay to have opinions,” he replies.
“Sure. And I have some. But it would be intensely ungrateful of me to bitch about any part of my life.” I shake my head and go back to working on the trees on the other side of the lake.
“Anyway, maybe someday I’ll try to sell my art.
But it would have to be when Mom’s out of politics, and our last name isn’t so recognizable. ”
“You could always sell it under a pseudonym.”
I blink over at him.
“You know, like some authors do. Actors. You don’t have to do it under your real name.”
Huh. I never thought of that.
“So it would be sort of anonymously.”
“It could be. You wouldn’t have to put your face next to it. Have a third party handle sales and exhibitions. Maybe the mystery would make it sell for a higher price.”
I grin at that. “You could be onto something.”
Sighing, I stare down at the drawing in my lap.
“I’m rusty. This is shit.”
“You’re crazy if you think that’s anything other than fucking amazing.”
The clouds overhead are getting angry, and I hear thunder off in the distance.
“Storm’s coming through.” Gideon stands and offers me his hand to help me up. “We should go inside.”
“I can smell it.” Taking a deep breath, I grin when the wind kicks up, blowing through my hair. “Wow, it happened fast.”
“They usually do around here. Come on.”
Following him inside, I’m surprised to smell something delicious in the air.
“How long was I out there?”
“A few hours. I have that pot roast you talked about in the oven. Make yourself at home. I’m headed out to the gym for a while.”
From his posture and the way he’s not looking me in the eye, I can see that I’m not invited to go with him.
And why does that hurt my feelings?
It shouldn’t.
“Oh, okay. Have a good workout.”
Gideon nods. “Need anything before I go?”
“Nah, I’m fine.”
I want him to stay. Or take me with him. I like being close to him.
I wasn’t lying this morning. If I was offered another place to hide out until whatever’s going on back home is over, I would have gone.
But it would have torn my heart out.
Gideon going out to the gym for a while is a good thing. I need to remember that I’m here because of a favor to my mother, not because of anything personal going on between us.
He may be attracted to me, I think, but nothing’s going to happen.
Because this is Gideon. He does everything by the book.
And just because he might have liked the sight of my ass in red panties doesn’t mean that he wants to take said panties off and do unspeakable, sexy things to me.
Damn it.
Maybe while he’s out of the house I’ll go take an arctic shower to calm down my hormones.