Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“Of course not,” I reply. “I’m just an old man with a heart mishap that must be confined to a house for the next month or so. Forgive my slip up.”
“What is the purpose of this call?” June asks with another sigh.
“I found my muse,” I reply simply, glancing up at the big grandfather clock by the fireplace.
It’s just a few minutes past nine, but I can feel my apprehension growing by the second.
Melody still isn’t back.
What if she decides not to come?
I don’t want to think about that possibility. It just means I’d have to find her and make the offer again, in a more tempting way.
“What the hell are you talking about?” June’s voice brings me back to reality.
“I found my muse for the unveiling,” I repeat, holding back the urge to glance at the clock again or the door.
“The unveiling?” June repeats as if I’ve just spoken an alien language. “Is that even a thing? I was planning to send a counter article to HR back in the morning to dispel the rumors about you working on a new art piece.”
“Why did you start a rumor when you were not going to follow through?” I ask with a light scoff.
“I just wanted you to rest while you’re there, and the whole paparazzi thing was to get you away from London,” June replies.
“You don’t have to send the counter article,” I say. “I should give the world a retirement gift.”
“What is this muse of yours?” June asks, her voice ringing with suspicion.
“Who?” I correct.
“It’s a person? But you never paint people except for the one you did of yourself and refused to sell.”
I shrug lightly. “Yes, she’s a person, and I don’t plan to sell paintings of her either. They’ll be displayed in my private gallery at home in London. It will be my greatest work of all time, and it’ll be all mine.”
June sighs in exasperation. “What on earth are you going on about?”
She probably doesn’t understand a word of what I’m saying. I don’t understand this thing I feel for Melody either, lust, certainly, but what’s this possessive feeling?
I feel like I’d do anything to protect her against the world. And it hasn’t even been a day.
“You should get back to sleep now,” I say to June, feeling a little guilty for keeping her up when my thoughts are not even sorted out yet. “You’ve got an early start in the morning. Keep me up-to-date on your activities in Barcelona.”
“Yes, boss,” June replies and drops the call.
This time, I couldn’t resist glancing at the clock again. It’s been thirty minutes since I last checked.
My guts twist anxiously at the implication of each passing second without her appearance.
What if I scared her away with my offer?
Suddenly, there’s a curt knock at the door.
My heart slams hard against my chest, surprising even me.
I take a deep breath and walk calmly toward the door, ignoring the inconsistent thudding of my heart. I unlock the door and pull it open to reveal Melody.
A slow smile spreads on my face as my heart swells up with an indescribable emotion.
“You came,” I say after a long, tense second of silence.
Melody lowers her gaze, an adorable blush creeping up her cheeks.
“Yes,” she replies, glancing up briefly at me. “I did promise to do anything.”
I pause for a second, wondering where to set up my canvas.
I decided to transform this particular room into a temporary studio because it has the best lighting, but I can’t seem to decide the best place to set up my easel.
It’s funny how I’m just now realizing June’s work to make everything perfect. She’s worked efficiently for so many years that I’ve gotten used to the ease of perfection.
While I can’t deny the excitement that comes with doing these things by myself, it also makes me appreciate her even more. I wonder if part of this fast-spreading excitement I feel is due to the fact that I’ll spend a good part of my evenings with Melody.
Earlier today, before leaving for work, she calmly informed me that she could only model for me between five and eight at night because she has to work and then study at night.
I wonder when she gets to go out and have fun with friends if all she does is work and study.
Anyway, there’s plenty of time to learn more about her and make her have fun.
The whooshing sound of the door being pushed open draws my attention, and I turn to look in the direction of the door.
Melody walks into the room, and my breath seizes for a second.
I can’t stop staring at her.
She’s irresistibly beautiful, and she doesn’t know it.
She stops hesitantly a few feet away from me, refusing to meet my gaze. Her cheeks are almost the color of her beautiful long hair, a beautiful blazing red shade that makes my blood roar with desire.