Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 35128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Brett and Ace though, they were nice. They didn’t seem to care that she loved having twinkling lights all around, or that her garden wasn’t color-coordinated. She hated it when she went to places and they had to have all white rose bushes or pinks.
A splash of color was the way to go as far as she was concerned. She loved to see everything. Life was too short to have greys, dullness, and order. She wanted everything to be alive, to feel part of it all.
She couldn’t live inside a closed box. Many nights as a child she would sleep in a treehouse outside in the back yard rather than stay cramped in bed. Even now, she had times when she’d sleep outside.
Camping was something she enjoyed, and considering she usually avoided strenuous activity, camping was something she found refreshing and completely rocked her world.
“So, are you two, like, together-together?” she asked.
Ace laughed, and Brett chuckled. “That’s not the first time we’ve been asked that,” Brett said.
“It’s not?”
“No. We’re best friends. Not lovers,” Ace said. “What about you, sweetheart? You got a man you’re pining for?”
“Nope. No man in my life. Hasn’t been for some time, actually.” She hadn’t been in a relationship for about three years. Her career had always come first. She’d been on dates and shared some one-night stands, but nothing that had screamed long-term, not for a long, long time. She leaned back in her seat. “I doubt I’ll meet anyone here.”
“Why not?” Brett asked.
“I don’t know. This is a family neighborhood. Besides, I really need to be relaxing.”
“If you’re not seeing a guy, who is that dude that has been visiting you?” Ace asked.
“Ah, you mean my manager, Will. He comes around once a week to see how I’m doing. I think I’m totally stressing him out.”
“Would you like us to see some of the work you’ve been doing?” Brett asked.
“Nah, I don’t like sharing my stuff. When I work, until it’s complete, I kind of have to … leave it.”
“But Will?” Ace asked.
“He’s different. He’s been with me since the beginning. He was the first guy I actually painted. At his desk, yep. He was so surprised by what I drew that it kind of made him want to help me.”
“What did you draw?” Brett asked.
“The corporate world. The fact that he had a picture of his family but in their faces I drew numbers and charts. It kind of worked him up. It’s what I love about drawing, painting, just anything really. You can see something every single day, and then all it takes is another person’s viewpoint of that exact same thing and it’s, like, bam, totally different. They wake up. I helped to wake up Will to what he was missing, and in doing so, he helped me.” Will was twenty years older than she was, a friend to her, a father, a guide, and just a best friend she’d never had.
He didn’t have expectations of her.
When he came to visit to check on her work, she knew he was worried that she’d lost that flair he enjoyed and that others loved. She’d find it again. It wasn’t lost, not at all. She felt that urge, that passion. It was still there bubbling beneath the surface. She just had to find the metaphorical glass or ice that was keeping her inspiration locked down.
She glanced down at the time to see it was a little after ten, and she was shocked. “Oh my, time has, like, totally flown by. Can you believe how fast it has gone?” she asked.
“Shit, we’ve got an early shift,” Brett said.
“I’m so sorry to have kept you guys. I mean, this was fun.”
“Honey, this was the best evening we’ve had since moving in. Seriously, we have to do this again sometime. How about I be the one to cook you dinner?” This came from Ace.
“An invitation to dinner? I’m intrigued. Is this going to be your way of turning me on to quinoa?”
“I’ve got a few recipes up my sleeve that I think you’ll love.”
She turned to Brett, the bigger of the two with more ink. She loved getting ink herself and was working on a design for her back, but seeing as she wanted it to be permanent, it had to be perfect. She didn’t rush anything like that.
“What do you think? Think I should risk it?”
“He’s a damn good cook.”
“Okay, I’m sold.”
“Really?” Brett asked.
“You look like the kind of guy that doesn’t give compliments easily,” she said. She liked Brett. He was serious, and yet there was an edge to him that she couldn’t quite read. Ace was fun. He was boisterous, loving, passionate. They were both suited for each other as friends.
“He doesn’t,” Ace said. “Always complaining about something.”
“Okay, okay, let’s get out of here. She doesn’t need to hear our life history,” Brett said.