“Architecture is where beauty, restraint, and control converge.” Erik stared at the beauty across the table. When her car had lumbered to a stop in front of him on the university campus he didn’t really know why he joined her. Maybe he was bored, maybe he didn’t want to drive home and enter his routine, or maybe he simply wanted to take a ride. No matter the answer, he suddenly found himself with a woman who, for whatever reason, seemed to understand and didn’t make him feel as if he were some exhibit on display. In fact, not only did she not mention the mask, she barely looked at it, choosing instead to focus on the other side of his face.
\n\n
\n\nHe had to know more about her. “What about you, Kristine?”
\n\n\n\n
Rather than spewing out some stock answer about building a world, she paused and considered his question. “I always thought it was the point where heart and dreams mesh with earth and reality, Mr. De Anton.”
\n\n
\n\nInteresting. Her answer intrigued him, made him feel as if he were a normal man having a normal conversation with a gorgeous, smart woman. “Erik.” he
\n\ncorrected. He didn’t want to be Mr. De Anton. The playing field needed to be leveled. He plucked a small sticky square of baklava right off her plate and offered it to her. “Call me Erik.”
\n\n
\n\nWithout taking her eyes off him, she reached forward to take the pastry from him, her fingers grazing over his hand. “Thank you, Erik.”
\n\nSoft, sweet, unintentional, her touch startled him. It was pure, and without any hesitation, and he couldn’t have that. Couldn’t be normal. This was unacceptable. The warmth of their brief contact was instantly replaced by fire raging through him. He dropped the sweet and shot up out of his chair, in the process knocking over a plate.
\n\n
\n\n“Erik?” She sat up, her eyes wide, her brow furrowed, her voice laced with confusion and innocence.
\n\n
\n\nThis was over. He had no room in his life for her, for normal. The air in the room threatened to suffocate him. Too much of everything, sights, smells, music, a beautiful woman.
\n\n
\n\n“We’re even now.” He ran his hands through his hair, turned on his heel, walked away.
\n\n
\n\nWith no plan in place, he simply stomped out the back of the tea house and into the fresh night air where, at last, he could inhale and cool down.
\n\nHe glanced down at his hand. Her touch still lingered, sizzling on his skin.
\n\n
\n\nWith a shake of his head, he turned back to the small tea shop and waited. Any second he should find her running out, getting in her car and leaving.
\n\n\n\n
That’s what she should do.
\n\n
\n\nThat’s what he wanted her to do.
\n\n
\n\nThat’s what she didn’t do.
\n\n
\n\nNo. She didn’t dash away, thrilled to be rid of the freak in the mask.
\n\n
\n\nInstead, nothing happened. He just stood in the parking lot with that old jalopy of hers sitting there as if the wreck was grateful it didn’t have to exert itself with more driving.
\n\n
\n\nWell, he would show her. His capabilities to wait this out had to far outweigh hers. A foolish girl, who took a monster in car without even knowing him, could not have the patience of a fly. In fact, before he left their little soiree, he should have warnedher not to allow strangers in her car. Anyone could wring her pretty little neck.
\n\n
\n\nNow that he thought about it, perhaps she was the psycho. Seriously, who invited a man into her substandard vehicle and then followed him basically through a dark alley into a place she had never been before?
\n\n
\n\nBefore he even realized it, he returned to the tea house, through all the ruckus of the small kitchen and dining room and back to the table the owners always reserved for him.
\n\n
\n\nThere she sat in the same chair he helped her into simply sipping her tea, legs crossed and staring right up at him. Didn’t she even have the decency to be mesmerized by her phone or something equally as mind numbing?
\n\n
\n\nHe pointed at her. “You really shouldn’t go gallivanting around the city luring strange men into your car at night.” If nothing else, he could be her public service announcement.
\n\n
\n\nShe sipped her tea and took her time putting the cup down. “I suppose that’s only a daytime activity. Thank you for the memo.”
\n\n
\n\nThe sprite in front of him picked up the pastry he’d dropped and ate it, complete with licking the sticky sweetness off her fingers,
\n\nUnsure what to do with her, he crossed his arms. Damn if he didn’t want to help her, but instead, he pulled a handkerchief out of his suit jacket pocket and held it out.
\n\n
\n\n“Thank you. I dropped my napkin.” She took the cloth, wiping her lips on the perfectly starched piece of linen, leaving a smear of her lipstick, then she chose a miniature fruit tart off the plate of delicacies.
\n\n
\n\nHe couldn’t stop watching as she methodically picked the raspberry, strawberry, kiwi and peach off the top then popped the entire naked tart into her mouth, once again using his handkerchief as a napkin.
\n\n
\n\n“Not a fan of fruit tarts?” This conversation, or lack thereof, was insane. He knew it, she probably knew it, but he couldn’t stop.
\n\n
\n\n“I love them.” As if to prove her point, she took the second tart, the one meant for him, and repeated her whole ritual of skinning the poor pastry of the fruit and eating it in one bite.
\n\n
\n\nHe lifted the plate and showed her the discarded fruit. “We could have asked for a custard tart.”
\n\n
\n\n“Well, we couldn’t have done anything since you left. But for your information, a custard tart is not the same. It has to have the fruit first, or it doesn’t taste right.” She returned to her tea.
\n\n
\n\nNow he simply stood there. He wasn’t quite sure what she said about the tart, but it was fascinating in its own way. What was it she wanted?
\n\nAfter taking another sip of her drink and daintily dabbing at the corners of her mouth with his handkerchief, she glanced up at him. “Is there something you want, Mr. De Anton?”
\n\n
\n\n“I wanted to ask you that same question.” He crossed his arms. “What is it you want?”
\n\n
\n\nShe put the cup down and didn’t hurry with spewing out an answer. Finally, she took a deep breath. “At what point?”
\n\n
\n\nOnly because he suddenly became exhausted from this run around banter did he return to his chair. “What?”
\n\n
\n\n“My wants have changed throughout the night.” She sat back. “At what point do you want to know what I wanted?”
\n\n
\n\nHer mind was interesting, and he needed to know more. He mirrored her casual demeanor. “Why don’t you give me a complete rundown so I can see how things transformed?”
\n\n
\n\nShe licked her lips, either going in for the kill or simply enjoying the remnants of sugar from her picked naked tart. “Well, when tonight started I wanted to meet you. As I stated, I always admired your work.”
\n\n
\n\nSince his work was admirable to say the least, he nodded and waited for her to continue.
\n\n
\n\n“Then I wanted to know more, but you disappeared.” She raised her eyebrows. “Then I had to know more.”
\n\n
\n\nHe was quite fond of that little trick himselfof his ability to slip away like that. It saved his life more than once. At least. The woman did have good taste.
\n\n
\n\n“When I found you, I thought I had what I wanted. I thought I just wanted to sit with you, and pick your brain, and leave after having one of those fan girl moments, one I could relive should I ever have the opportunity to teach a class.” She shrugged. “But…”
\n\n
\n\n“But what?’ He balled his hand in a fist, he was way too enchanted with this conversation.
\n\n
\n\nShe leaned forward. “Now I want more.”
\n\n
\n\nWith the way the dim lights sparkled off her eyes, and how she kept her focus on the good side of his face, damn if he wouldn’t give her anything she asked for. It had been a while since he had the pleasure of a woman. In fact, he never even considered it anymore, but with her right there, maybe the was a possibility. Maybe. “What?”
\n\n
\n\n“I want you to teach me.”
\n\n
\n\nHer statement fell flat on the table, like a fruitless tart that had sat on the plate too long and puddled. “I am not a teacher.”
\n\n
\n\n“I beg to differ ,” she countered. “Not only did you give a lecture tonight, but you went out of your way to show me one of the homes you designed to teach me about it.”
\n\n
\n\nSmart. She was too smart for her own good and his as well. “Why would you want me to teach you? Isn’t that what you pay that university thousands of dollars for?”
\n\n
\n\n“My final test to earn my master’s degree is coming up. It’s a comprehensive test, I either pass it and get my degree, or fail and have to do it all over again.” In a bold move, she moved forward and put her elbow on the table. “I’m not failing.”
\n\n
\n\nThe urge to get up from the table and walk away once more, this time for good, overtook him. Instead, he fought his instinct and decided to see how far this dared go. What would she do for his tutoring? “And what would I get in return for this customized teaching?” Perhaps this little beauty was nothing but a whore, in which case he could finally rid himself of her.
\n\n
\n\nShe swallowed and her skin paled. “I’ll work for you?” Her answer definitely came out as more of a question. At last, this strong veneer she put up around her cracked.
\n\n
\n\n“And what would I need from you?” Several minutes prior, he could have answered this question, but that opportunity was gone, as it was from the moment he lost his face.
\n\n
\n\n“I read somewhere you still do things the old-fashioned way, I’m an expert in CAD.” Her voice shook ever so slightly.
\n\n
\n\n“There’s a reason I don’t use computers to aid my design. Next ?” Finally, the upper hand was his.
\n\n
\n\nShe pressed her lips together and glanced down at the table.
\n\n
\n\nPart of him wanted her to admit defeat, the other wanted to see if she had the guts to come up with another service he could use.
\n\nAfter a pause, she lifted her head. “I build architectural models.”
\n\n
\n\nAs he opened his mouth to tell her again he didn’t use computer renderings she cut him off and continued. “Not on the computer.” She spoke fast. “Real scale models with balsa wood, and Styrofoam and everything. I did the one of the new library for the college that’s in the business offices.”
\n\nDamn, if he hadn’t that model and admire it when he met damn Professor Warren for an after-hours chat. The fact she did it by hand impressed him even more.
\n\n
\n\n“I’d think that would be quite an asset to your business accounts. And for your residential accounts, what better keepsake for someone who went to great lengths to have your services?” The woman didn’t stop selling herself.
\n\n
\n\nWhy he even entertained her offer was only further proof of his own insanity. He should have never stepped outside his house today. There was a reason he remained inside, and the physical manifestation of that rationale was right in front of him.
\n\n
\n\n“I’ll even work for you through the summer to repay you.” Her voice softened.
\n\n
\n\nFor the first time, he would be the one who held the cards, but this couldn’t happen, wouldn’t happen. “I don’t negotiate.”
\n\n
\n\n“That’s all we’ve been doing all night ,” she shot back.
\n\n
\n\nHis whole body tensed and once more, his mind wandered to a point where she didn’t ask him to be her teacher, and they could have been doing other things all night. “Negotiations can only take place when both parties have something the other wants.”
\n\n
\n\nAt his harsh words she turned away. Was the sparkle in her eye a tear? He wasn’t sure until she used his handkerchief to quickly wipe her face. Damn him to hell.
\n\n
\n\nShould he apologize? Offer something? Leave?
\n\n
\n\nWhile he contemplated his options, she chose for him by standing from the table.
\n\n
\n\nOn automatic he stood as well.
\n\n
\n\n“I always wanted to meet you. I’m a huge fan of your work. Thank you for all the inspiration.” She hoisted her handbag on her shoulder and turned.
\n\nNo sooner did he step around the table to stop her than she spun back toward him, causing them to nearly collide.
\n\n
\n\n“I almost took this.” Without warning, without hesitation, without anything except a normal movement as if he wasn’t the most repellant person in the world, she took his hand and returned his handkerchief.
\n\n
\n\nRather than retract as he did before, he stared down at her hand. Small, neat clear polished fingernails, he could crush her bones if he wanted.
\n\nBefore she could pull away, he caught her wrist.
\n\n
\n\nShe didn’t fight him, only looked up at the good side of his face.
\n\n
\n\n“You won’t fail your test.” The second he said the words, he both rejoiced and regretted his decision.
\n\n
\n\nHer brow crinkled. “What?”
\n\n
\n\n“I’m working on new Victorian house that’ll be restored to its former glory in Downtown LA. Let’s see if you can capture the nuance. I overcharged that account, so they may as well have a model for all the money they spent.” He went on.
\n\n
\n\nShe graced him with a smile— a gift he hadn’t had from anyone in over a decade. “I can do that.” Her voice came out more of a gasp.
\n\n
\n\n“Fine. We start tomorrow. Bring your books so I can brush up.” He guided her out of the tea house. “You will not fail,” he repeated. No she wouldn’t fail, but he just might.
\n\n
\n\nDon't forget to tell me what you think, and if you want to get your chapters sent directly to your inbox, sign up for my newsletter! Links below!
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