“I was completely lost in the sounds of that piano, like one can get lost in the sounds of rain on a summer evening. I was just overwhelmed with music inside of me and a hundred ideas rushed through. As if the life that had been sucked out of me was being replenished again. It was the magic that I had wanted to feel for so long. That magic makes me write songs. It compels something inside of me to wake up and make music.”
Lost in his own words, Arsen was longing for that creative inspiration. For themes, for the right sign, or the elusive muse. Rory was mesmerized by the passion for music that shined in his eyes. The energy of his voice, and the utter obsession he had with creating music.
“I’m happy you found your muse again.” She smiled at him.
“The muse is the house that the music was played in,” he replied, a slight smile showcasing his pearly whites.
“Meaning?” she asked. Arsen paused for a good minute and then spoke up.
“Rory, would you rent out your house to me?”
10
It was a miracle that Rory wasn’t already sick of the wet weather. As she drove back to her house, it started raining again after raining heavily for most of the day. Lizzy had called her to say that she had already closed the shop and gone home once she saw that the downpour was going to turn into a storm.
As there was no need to reopen the shop, Rory worked on a couple of new designs and then went off to bed rather early. She was stuffed beyond belief as Martha had seen her off with a whole bunch of goodies. Rory couldn’t resist but munch on cupcakes on the way home and was far too full to have dinner.
I gotta start working out soon, she thought as she tried to go to sleep. Arsen’s offer was still ringing in her mind. He had wanted to lease a part of her house and convert it into a temporary studio where he could write songs. He was willing to make it worth her while as well. The idea of having him around was tempting, but a no had popped out of her mouth on autopilot.
Arsen had tried to convince her, but she had rejected his appeals
every time. She simply didn’t like the idea of Arsen and his rowdy band members, especially Mickey Nicks, in her house.
Arsen was interesting, he was charming, and Rory now had no qualms in admitting that he intrigued her, but his bandmates… God only knows what kind of damage they would inflict, not to mention the amount of drugs that would be involved. Of course, she didn’t want to insult Arsen by bringing that up.
What Rory didn’t admit to herself freely however, was that she was also afraid of getting close to Arsen. An afternoon spent with him had confirmed her belief that he wasn’t like other celebrities. Neither was he like the other members of his band. Often he seemed like a regular guy, except that he was sexy like a Greek god and possessed a talent that comes once in a generation. It wasn’t that difficult to be attracted to a guy like that, but the last thing Rory wanted was a short-lived romance with a bad-boy rockstar.
Their meeting had played like a movie in her head a hundred times since that afternoon. She was almost sure that there was a spark of attraction in his eyes for her. Even when he was trying to convince her, his hand had landed on hers, caressing it gently. She could see why she would be attracted to him, but what she couldn’t fathom was why he would be attracted to her. He must have a million girls running after him. Why me?
In the end, she convinced herself that it was all a figment of her imagination and Arsen was probably being overly charming only because he wanted to lease her house. Going to and fro between these thoughts, she somehow drifted off to sleep.
A slight drizzle greeted her when she woke up in the morning. As she looked out her window, she could see a whole lot of water still splashed out on the road. A couple of trees had broken branches too. Nothing that would concern a resident of Montcove. Thoughts of Arsen and his handsome face entered her mind and she found it difficult to sweep away the smile that came upon her face. Rory realized that she had forgotten how it felt to be attracted to a man. Especially a man who could get her pulse racing fast simply by just being there.
She had forgotten about her need to feel loved. To have a man there for her, teasing her, spoiling her, caressing her. She loved the tingles Arsen sent down her spine and the non-judgmental way he looked at her. He seemed to cherish her for who she was, and the gleam in his eyes every time he looked at her told her this much. The attraction was strong. But Rory wanted a man who could be a part of her life every day, someone who wouldn’t leave like others had. Arsen wasn’t that man.
She lazed around in bed for a long time, thinking of Arsen and how he made her feel, and decided to head downstairs to open the bookstore only when the rain had stopped completely. Maybe someone will want to read a new book on a nice cloudy day like this.
After half an hour, the door to the shop opened up and a man entered. Though Rory was initially disappointed that he was not a customer, she was relieved that he was the guy Don had sent over to fix the wall. In all the excitement of the past few days, she had forgotten about the wall and Don’s promise to fix it. She was glad that he had kept his word and didn’t leave the job to her. There was no way Rory could’ve found the money for repairs.
Soon the sounds of hammer and chisel were echoing around the quiet periphery of the house, and Rory was relieved that at least something was getting fixed in her life. She was sitting at the computer watching a Pilates instructional video on YouTube when the door to the shop opened again. Rory casually looked up, thinking it was the handyman who had come to ask her for something, but instead it was a chubby man in a baseball cap with a camera around his neck.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“As a matter of fact, you can.” The man smiled in a way that made Rory feel weird.
“Are you interested in a particular book?” She smiled politely.
“Well. Not really, but I will buy something if it means that I can ask you a few questions.” He looked around the bookstore in a disapproving way.
“Questions?” Rory crossed her arms and sat on guard. Clearly, this man was not a regular walk-in.
“About our mutual friend, Arsen Ford.” That greasy smile was back on his face.
“You are a friend of his?”
“Well, he doesn’t think so, but after having photographed him so many times, I feel as if I’ve known him forever.” He grinned sleazily.
Rory looked him up and down and then it struck her—the man was a paparazzo.