Page 5 of Finding Romance
Now, to be fair, I had only ever had black coffee with two sugars, but Cam made me up my game one day and it’s been my order ever since. Simple and just a little sweet.
I toss some cash down on the counter. “See you later, Cam,” I say as I leave. My legs start carrying me toward the park bench for reasons I can’t understand.
The person is still sitting there, and just as Cam said, it’s Cornelia’s niece. She turns as I approach. I notice then that the flowers are there.
“Hey,” she says, giving me a small smile.
I grunt a “hello” and she moves the flowers out of the way.
“Someone left these here. Although, I swear I remember seeing flowers here before. Weird, right?” she says as she sets the flowers to the side of the bench and pats the open area next to her.
I look over to see an easel and a painting. She’s good. She’s painting some flowers that are growing alongside the stream.
I’m not sure why, but I sit down.
“It needs more color, doesn’t it?” she says as she leans in to study her work.
“I think it’s fine,” I mutter before taking a sip. I practically moan. I missed this coffee. And I don’t miss things.
“You’re not a talker, huh?” she asks, and then quickly adds, “Not that you have to be. I like to be quiet sometimes too.”
I look over at her and she’s watching me carefully.
“I highly doubt that,” I say as I search her eyes. The pink emerging with the sun on the horizon reflects in the blacks of her eyes. She’s stunning.
She grins. “Haha. Very funny. I’ll have you know, I’ve been sitting here being very quiet for an hour now.” She pauses and points up and I look into the sky. There are big puffy clouds that are also tinged with pink.
“Michaelangelo’s time of day,” she says as if that explains something.
“I don’t understand,” I say as I look back down at her.
She sighs and leans back on the bench.
“Have you ever seen his paintings? The clouds are like this, dark on one side, light on another,” she explains as she points above us. I look up again and it’s like I’m seeing clouds for the first time. She’s right. They do look like that.
“Have you seen his paintings?” I ask as I sip my coffee again.
“Yep. I studied in Rome for a semester,” she states as she leans forward and starts working on her painting again.
I watch her in silence for a few minutes. She’s good, very good.
“Did you find Cornelia’s necklace?” I ask, breaking the calm between us.
Her shoulders slump and her hand stills. “No. Not yet. But I haven’t given up yet. I’ve even told a few people to be on the lookout,” she says before going back to painting.
I don’t know if it’s her defeated posture or her frown, but suddenly I feel like I’d do anything to cheer her up. “I’ll help you look for it,” I say before my brain can function.
“You will!” she exclaims as she stops again and turns to me. Her brush streaks across my cheek and her mouth falls open in a perfect “O” as she gasps. “Oh God! I’m so sorry. Here, let me…” She trails off as she grabs a towel and tries to clean my cheek. I reach up and grab her hand with one of mine. Damn, her fingers are so small and delicate.
“It’s OK,” I state. And the smile on her lips makes me want to do more to make her happy.
“And yes, I will. Next time you want to go look for it, knock,” I add as I get up and walk back to the apartment building before I do something even dumber than I just did. What the hell was I thinking? Help her look for a necklace? Since when do I do things like that? Oh yeah, never, until some artsy, happy-go-lucky beauty decides to visit her aunt. I run a hand over my face. Why do I feel like I just made a big mistake?
CHAPTER FOUR
Piper
“Don’t worry about the necklace right now. It’s wine night. Grab some glasses and come sit out here,” Aunt Cornelia says.
