“Keep it as your safety net,” Annabelle insists. “Your father has cut you off.” She frowns at that fact.
Though I know I’ve been all but disinherited for my rebellion, hearing it hurts just the same.
To my surprise, Maddox steps up behind me, wraps an arm around my waist and kisses the top of my head. As if he’s in tune with my emotions…and he probably is. I step back, my body leaning against his. I don’t need his strength, I could handle things on my own, but I appreciate it anyway. He cares, and my heart flutters in my chest.
“Have my parents been pressuring you about asking me to come home?” I ask. No doubt they assume I’d keep in touch with my grandmother.
Annabelle shakes her head. “I’ve heard them talking though. They assume you’ll tire of this independent stand you’re taking and come home.”
Behind me, Maddox stiffens. He probably worries about the same thing. Only time will prove I’m here to stay. With or without Maddox, I’m building a life of my own.
“Listen,” my grandmother says. “You have the car because I bought it for you and the title is in your name. Your father can’t take the vehicle from you. When you come back to the city, for whatever reason, call me. We’ll meet with the lawyers and moveyour trust fund somewhere your father won’t know about it. I think we’ll both feel better.”
Eyes stinging, I nod.
“Now keep the money. Open an account here. And we’ll talk. I love you, dear girl.”
“I love you, too,” I whisper, hugging her tight.
The car horn blares again.
“Come on. I’ll walk you out,” Maddox says, hooking an arm through Annabelle’s.
I wait in the kitchen, watching through the window, my thoughts on Maddox and the night we spent together. I never had sex before. Never slept in the same bed with a guy overnight. And I’ve never felt cared for, safe or protected by a man, either.
Until Maddox.
I gave him my virginity with no strings, but with everything inside me, I want to hold on tight and create more lasting bonds with this special man.
CHAPTER SIX
Gabby
My phone rings,startling me. I’ve been lost in my painting world, splattering glorious bold colors onto the paper. With my hands a mess and my brush in hand, I ignore the call but when the cell rings again, I wipe my dirty fingers on a rag and carefully lift the phone.
Rhonda’s name flashes on the screen. I left the gallery when my shift ended earlier and came home to paint.
“Hello? Rhonda? Is everything okay? Do you need me to come back in?” I ask.
“Nothing’s wrong. I have the most exciting news. Your first painting sold!”
I scream. “Oh my God! That’s amazing!”
Rhonda chuckles. “Wait until you hear for how much.” She told Gabby a number that blew her mind. “Now go celebrate!”
I disconnect, my heart pounding in excitement. In the two weeks during which I’ve worked there, I found myself confiding in my boss. We discuss everything. I admitted why I left my parents’ home and my need to apply for a job to make money of my own. We talked about my degree, museums and the fact that I am a closet painter, hiding my work from my parents. The first time my mother caught me with dirty fingernails, she forbade me from indulging in myfrivolous hobby.
Rhonda convinced me to bring some pieces by the gallery for her to see, and my sister took a day trip from her Long Island home to drop off canvases I already painted and stored in Penelope’s basement. Rhonda fell in love with my work. Iwould have thought my boss was being kind, except Rhonda never hangs anything in her place of business she doesn’t believe in. The next day, my modern contemporary art was framed and hanging in a small corner.
And today it sold.
I run for the bathroom and take a quick shower, aware I can’t get rid of all the paint on my hands but knowing Maddox won’t mind. Smiling at the thought, I dress in a pair of fitted black running shorts, a purple sport bra, and a lightweight jacket. Casual clothes I like wearing when not working or painting.
After grabbing my keys, I rush to my car, turned on the engine and drive toward town. Although I’ll share my news with my grandmother and Penelope later, Maddox is the first person I want to celebrate with.
I’ve been staying with him for a total of three weeks and things between us have been…almost perfect. From the routine we fell into as a couple to how in sync we are when it comes to music, action-adventure movies, and documentaries on television. Neither of us is overly attached to social media, me because I don’t have friends I want to check up on, and Maddox only looks out for his younger brother and the business page for the bar.
If only I didn’t catch him deep in thought on a few occasions. Sometimes I walk into the kitchen and find him staring out the window or on the terrace, looking out at the horizon. I have to call his name a few times before it registers I’m speaking to him. Those moments make me wonder what’s bothering him. Am I suffocating him by living in his house…and now sharing his bed?
