“We’re getting by. Little creeper here couldn’t stop looking at you,” Brett said.
She saw Ace’s face go red, and she laughed. “Your curiosity got the better of you?”
“Yeah, it did, but Brett is overexaggerating.”
“I kind of like the idea of you watching me. It seems a little strange, but I like that. I love strange.” She watched the two of them. They were nice, she could tell that instantly. “I feel like I’ve been a very bad neighbor here.” She glanced down at her books. “How about I order us some dinner? We can sit out in the garden, have some food, wine, talk. You guys do drink wine, right?”
“We’re more for beer,” Brett said.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a few bottles I’ll put in the chiller. Chinese?”
“Sounds good.” This came from Ace. “I am sorry for stepping into your light.” He pointed at her sketchbook, and she simply smiled.
“It’s okay. It’s not that good anyway. I completely overreacted, and I was forcing it anyway. I just panicked, and I really shouldn’t have done that and yelled and been a bitch. Lovely to finally meet you both and I’ll see you around seven?” It would be nice to have some company, and not wallow in self-pity for another day that hadn’t gone well.
“Count us in.”
They said their goodbyes, and she walked into her home. It had been a simple place, plain walls, but it had that male vibe, which she’d not liked. When she had her own space, it had to be hers, so for the first few weeks it was about changing everything, making her space, and now it finally was.
As she shut the door, the scent of vanilla filled the air, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the fragrance as it relaxed her.
She needed this space. Her manager, agent, whatever Will liked to call himself, had insisted on it, especially as he’d come to her studio a year ago and seen all of her half-baked projects.
When she was drawing, creating, designing, she had to connect with each piece. To give a part of herself, otherwise it was just another drawing in a long line of them. She didn’t want them to feel like mass-produced trash.
Getting away, changing her scenery, doing something different, Will had believed would help her find that spark once again. Right now, it didn’t seem to be working.
****
“I can’t believe you said that shit!” Ace stormed into their place, and Brett simply smiled.
“What? She found it funny.”
“And if she didn’t?”
“Then it was no big deal to me. Come on, have a laugh and a joke. It was funny.” Brett watched as his best friend paced the main living room. It had been so hard to resist, and then seeing as their little neighbor was giving Ace the flirtatious eye, he simply couldn’t not mention it.
What had surprised him was her amusement. It’s not every day a woman would find a stalker funny, but he had a feeling she wasn’t like every other woman.
“What’s her name?” he asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Yes, I would. Stop being a pain in the ass.”
“Her name’s Meredith Snow.” Ace dropped down on the sofa. “What do you think we should wear tonight?”
“Clothes.”
“I’m being serious. She’s an artist, and I want to make a good impression.”
“You do, do you? After what, five minutes of chatting?” Brett asked.
“I like her, okay? I don’t know. She’s nice. Got a pretty smile but a word to the wise, do not stand in her light. She tends to go a bit crazy.”
“As all women do when you affect their light.” Brett rolled his eyes.
“No, this wasn’t because of makeup or taking a selfie or shit like that. She was drawing, sketching the neighborhood. She held onto that notebook like a lifeline. I don’t know. I’m curious about her. She has no sense of style at all, but she owns her shit. You know?”
“You figured all this out in five minutes?”
“I’m a people person, Brett. It’s why all the chicks like coming back for more.”
Again, Brett rolled his eyes. They were both personal trainers at the local gym. The difference between the two of them was Brett wouldn’t back down. When he got a client who gave him boundaries to work under, and a guideline for what they wanted, he worked to it. He made sure they met every single one of their goals, and he wouldn’t take complaining or whining, or whimpering. If a woman started to bat her eyelashes at him and beg for him to stop, it wasn’t going to happen. He also didn’t allow for relationships. That was a big no.
Now, Ace on the other hand, a woman batted her lashes and he stepped back. His friend had never been in a relationship with a client, but he knew that Ace’s kind heart and good nature tended to put him in tricky situations, which was why he always had a helper on hand to be there so nothing could be mistaken, nor could Ace be accused of anything.