A slow smile spreads across my face. I shake my head. “I don’t know. Something tells me most things are easy for you.”
“Is that so?”
I shrug. “Just a hunch.”
He watches me intently for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. Then again, things worth having often come easily.”
That’s not really how the saying goes, so my dirty mind wants to turn that last bit into innuendo. And as he’s licking the edge of his glass again, a devious glint in his eyes, I realize that’s one hundred percent what he meant.
Then, suddenly, he startles on his stool and pulls out his phone, quickly glancing at it. “Well, I hate to love you and leave you, Violet…”
“McQueen,” I say softly, strangely bereft and almost hurt that he’s going. “It’s Violet McQueen.”
“Violet McQueen,” he says. “Name fit for royalty.” He swings his long legs off the stool and stands up, picking up his camera bag from the back of his chair. “I have to run.”
I want to ask why. I want to know what he’s doing and if I can go too.
But I don’t. Because I don’t know him other than he’s a gorgeous man who bought me a drink. And it sounds like this is where this tale will end.
“Okay,” I say softly. “Thank you for the drink. I hope everything works out with your classes.” I give him a stiff smile.
Something softens in his eyes, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “The classes? Who knows. But everything will work out now that I know you.” I frown at that. “When are you done tomorrow?”
“Uh, I just have a morning class. It’s over at eleven.” My heart is picking up the pace, running away with the thought that this isn’t it.
“Perfect. I’ll meet you here tomorrow. We can have a drink, or not. We can have coffee, or not. But I want you ready to work.”
“Work?”
He pats his camera bag. “Photos. If I can’t learn from the school, I’ll learn from you.”
Is he kidding me? “But I…I don’t know anything, really. I mean—”
“Violet,” he says quickly, leaning in so he’s whispering in my ear, hot breath that eats me up inside. “You’re everything I want, I need, to know.”
My eyes flutter closed for that moment, entranced by his voice, his smell, his words.
Then he kisses me lightly, so lightly, on the cheekbone. Butterfly wings of a kiss.
“See you tomorrow,” he says.
And then he’s gone. His presence is like a warm storm that’s passed over the land, leaving quiet and destruction in its wake.
I start to tip on the stool and my eyes open, one hand flying to the counter to steady myself. I look to find Vicente but he’s gone out of the bar.
Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.
What the hell just happened?
None of that could have been real. I mean, none of it.
I blink, trying to get my bearings, slowly facing the bar.
The bartender is looking at me in amusement.
“First date?” he asks as he grabs Vicente’s half-empty glass. He didn’t even finish his drink.
“I don’t know what that was,” I admit, rubbing my lips together, bewildered.
“He’s pretty smooth, gotta give him that. And he knows his vodka,” the bartender says. “Can’t say it’s not a way to my heart, if not yours.”
I let out a soft laugh. One minute I was grabbing my scarf and preparing to head home, the next I’m having a drink with some sexy ass Mexican man, the same man I’m supposed to teach photography to tomorrow. I mean, what the fuck is that? No kidding, the guy is fucking smooth. I don’t even know how he managed to get me to go along with that.
Because of those eyes, I remind myself, swallowing hard. And those lips. And that tongue. And because you’re a dirty little bird who hasn’t gotten laid in a long time.
I finish up the Bloody Mary, tipping the bartender even though I know Vicente already did, and start heading back home to try and make sense of it all.
I can’t keep the smile off my face.
Chapter Six
Vicente
It was a risk.
Everything.
But I was born to make them. Without risks, there is no progress. And I can’t forget the reason I’m here.
Ellie McQueen.
But I never thought I’d get to know someone like Violet.
It makes the most sense.
Go through the daughter to get to the mother.
I just have to figure out how to play the daughter just right.
I was able to get a feel for her by observing her in that café. And I was surprised by how close my predictions were.
There’s an acute softness about her, hiding underneath a thin plate of armor. With her dark hair and eyes, her boots, her leather jacket, down to her defensive stare, she only plays the part of being hard and untouchable. The reality, I believe, is much softer. Not just vulnerable, but volatile, too. A contradiction. Underneath the thickest shield runs liquid fine lava, burning hotter than the surface would ever let you believe.
I was half-kidding about joining the school. I do consider myself to be pretty good at photography, though it’s no passion of mine, and I would have been able to fake my way in if my money would have bought me late admission. I had to try and I had to let Violet know who she was dealing with.
She had to know I have money.
She had to know I was willing to do it all for the passion.
That money was worth the arts she held so dear.