All Things Beautiful, page 12
Mikala caught hold of her elbow. “Hey.”
Casey turned, and Mikala stood close. Too close.
She brushed a lock of hair away from Casey’s face. “I’m not sure when I’ll get another chance.” Before Casey comprehended what she’d whispered, Mikala leaned in and kissed her. With her hand on Casey’s lower back, she pulled her closer.
Stunned, it took her a moment to react. She broke the kiss and backed away before it went anywhere. “Mikala.” It was an awkward situation, and she never knew what to say during times like these. She took a deep breath. “You’re a good friend. I like you, but I don’t think I feel the same.”
Mikala’s disappointment loomed in her eyes, but she offered a regretful smile. “I was afraid of that, but I figured this was the time to find out for sure.”
“The person who feels the same way for you as you do them, what a lucky person they’ll be.” Casey smiled to let her know no harm was done.
Mikala laughed, but it sounded rueful. “You always have something nice to say.” She slipped an arm around her and called the elevator. “Thank you.”
As they waited, the security cameras flashed through Casey’s mind. She didn’t want to be obvious and see where they were and if they might have caught the encounter. Instead, she crossed her fingers that Leighton had aimed them in another direction. It was late, and nobody should be monitoring them at this hour, anyway. Nobody, meaning Leighton.
They rode down to the first floor in silence, then crossed the reception area.
Despite her lack of interest in Mikala that way, the kiss lingered on Casey’s lips. It’d been fine, but it’d stirred nothing in her—nothing but emptiness.
Mikala made sure the atelier’s front door latched behind them, and they headed for the train.
Casey’s wistful sigh escaped into the cool night air, and a heaviness weighed her down. It’d been so long since she’d been kissed, but the woman who’d kissed her tonight hadn’t been the woman she wanted. And the woman she wanted had made it clear she couldn’t have her.
Chapter Fourteen
Leighton stared at the ceiling fan whirling above her bed. Sleep wouldn’t come. She regretted the cup of coffee she’d had after dinner. Now her brain spun, and she couldn’t stop thinking about Casey. Based on the invitation to lunch and the ensuing conversation, her attraction to Casey was mutual. Until then, she’d worried she was a poor judge when her faculties were so clouded by interest. And desire.
With a sigh, she kicked the light duvet to the side and rolled from her bed. Maybe a glass of water or a spoonful of ice cream would help.
She peeked into Kalyssa’s room. From the doorway, Leighton could tell she slept, her hair sweaty on one side. Other than that, she’d moved little.
As Leighton turned toward the kitchen, she skidded to a bare-footed stop in front of the screen showing the feeds from her security cameras. Movement caught her eye, unusual for this late. A glance at the time told her it was almost one thirty. She sat and clicked camera eight into full-screen mode.
Casey and Mikala faced one another. Mikala leaned closer, and acid rose in Leighton’s throat. Her eyes remained glued to the screen as Mikala pressed her lips to Casey’s. Leighton’s stomach lurched. After what seemed like an eternity, they broke apart. Of course, they’d be near one of the few cameras without audio. Smiles spread across their faces, and Leighton’s heart dove. Then Mikala wrapped her arm around Casey’s shoulders, and they left. Together.
Leighton pinched the bridge of her nose. She shouldn’t feel jealousy or possessiveness, or anything related to those feelings. Casey wasn’t hers and couldn’t be hers. She’d told Casey as much.
She’d always thought she had impeccable timing, but she wished she hadn’t walked by at that moment. For all she knew, it wasn’t their first kiss. Maybe this was what happened at night in her studio.
If this was what occurred, she should monitor the cameras more. She rubbed her forehead and sighed. No, that wasn’t their purpose. Besides, she never wanted to witness anything like that involving Casey again. Her stomach still churned.
Why shouldn’t Casey be interested in Mikala? They were both students, free to date or do whatever. It didn’t thrill Leighton the intimate moment had happened in her studio, but an objective eye would view it as tame. However, she didn’t possess objectivity, not when it concerned Casey. So, it made sense Leighton got what she deserved for pining over a woman she couldn’t have. The episode left her feeling in pieces.
They couldn’t have a relationship, even a fling. Like she’d told Casey, it was unethical and could put the entire future of her atelier at risk. Unbidden images of Maxine’s apoplectic face if she ever found out crossed her mind. Even the imagined depiction was enough to terrify her. Maxine’s anger and disappointment would be monumental, and she might distance herself from Leighton’s mess. Then Leighton would be motherless and without a mother figure. No, she wasn’t about to risk losing the only person besides Kalyssa who felt like family, and she wouldn’t excise another person from Kalyssa’s life.
If falling asleep was difficult before, it’d be near impossible now. Counting sheep would be the smart thing to do. Instead, she wanted to discuss what had happened. If she could share her day with someone and get another perspective, perhaps she could get past it.
She texted Stefan and asked him to call her if he was awake, but she didn’t receive a response. In front of her, the screen showed all the security feeds. She pressed the power button, and the monitor went dark. A creepy sensation tickled her neck. What if something happened? Jeffrey could show up, and she wouldn’t have as much time to react. Door and window sensors would send notifications to her phone, but she never turned off her cameras. It left her feeling too vulnerable.
She turned on the screen. A car whizzed past the front entrance, its headlights a bright glare in the camera’s night vision. All else appeared quiet.
Her phone didn’t ring. She paced up and down the hallway, gritting her teeth as she imagined Stefan hugging his pillow and snoring, until she realized the unfairness in her thinking. Sleep was a luxury she’d like to have. Still, she wished she had someone to talk to who could calm her restless state.
Chapter Fifteen
Casey, like the rest of her class, stood in front of her taboret in the studio, the mid-morning’s blue skies reminding her of the sunny day outside, even if the windows faced north. Stefan had asked them to mix the correct proportion of burnt umber and ultramarine blue on their palettes to create a chromatic black. They’d be using it to make the nine values of gray for their grisaille.
“Make enough of each value so that they’re ready to go, and you don’t have to do this each time you start a painting.” Stefan raised his voice so they could hear him as he walked around. “Remember, we squint to see value and open our eyes wide to see color.”
He set down a large, but what appeared to be lightweight, box on the model stand in the middle of the ring of stations. “Here are the empty tubes. Once your mixtures are correct, use your palette knife to load the tubes and crimp the ends shut.”
“Why are we doing this again?”
Jenna often seemed lost, but Casey liked her. She’d asked to look at Casey’s laptop every day the first week until Casey offered to send her a copy of her notes. Now she used a scanner app to send Jenna daily shots of the sketchbook in which she handwrote almost everything. Jenna had confided she couldn’t write or type fast enough or sometimes didn’t grasp the concepts. Either way, Casey didn’t mind sharing. Jenna was a decent artist, but everything seemed to overwhelm her. Plus, her heart didn’t seem invested in the instruction the way Casey’s and most of the other students’ were.
“Good question, Jenna. In the future, or at least for this section of the syllabus, you’ll lay out your gray values at the top of your palette to neutralize other colors.”
“Should we label the tubes before or after?” Devin scratched his ear with a Sharpie.
Casey made a mental note never to borrow one from him.
“I label each one after I fill it. You should also brush a streak of the color on the outside of the tube as a reminder of that value. I find it more helpful than wondering what that value looks like. And don’t forget to tube your chromatic black. You should end up with ten tubes, people.”
“Yo, why can’t we use ivory black and titanium white to make our grays? It’d be a lot faster.” Jaiden flashed Stefan a grin like he might get away using a shortcut with his perfect teeth and boyish charm.
“Does anyone know?” Stefan looked around.
Casey spoke once no one else had. “Because ivory black is a cool color, and depending on the brand you use, the temperature can vary. By mixing our own, we assure it’s a neutral black.” She congratulated herself, not for her answer, but for sounding confident. It was often an outward appearance she needed to fabricate.
“Very good, Casey. That’s right.” Stefan gave her taboret a little thump with his fist.
A ding sounded. Leighton strode into the studio and seemed to assess the scene before her. Without as much as a good morning to anyone, she slung her bag from one shoulder to the other.
“Mikala, your halftones should be in the two to three range on the value scale, not four or five. Are you matching them to the Munsell chips?” Without breaking stride, Leighton glared at her.
“N-not yet.”
Mikala’s stammered words and wide eyes mirrored Casey’s surprise at Leighton’s tone.
“I can’t imagine why you aren’t.” Leighton glanced over her shoulder as she admonished her. “I assume Stefan hasn’t neglected to mention that important step this morning. Why waste your time by taking shortcuts?”
Her tone caused most of the students to stop what they were doing. Even Stefan stared at her. Only Phoenix seemed oblivious to the mood that had darkened the room as he bopped his head to a song only he could hear. Leighton flew past Casey without a glance.
“It’s somebody’s time of the month.” Devin’s grumble drew glares from all the women and some guys. He mumbled an apology and resumed mixing paint.
In her office, Leighton flung items from her bag onto her desk, making Casey start with each thump. This wasn’t like her. What had caused her sudden change in behavior?
The jovial atmosphere that had existed in the studio had dissipated. On any other day, joy suffused Casey while here, but Leighton’s mood had soured it. Casey loved learning and being immersed in art. Here, the people who surrounded her understood the history and the challenge of creation. She fit in for the first time in her life. Now drudgery replaced that buoyant feeling.
She sighed and used her palette knife to smear a small pile of ultramarine blue into the three dots of burnt umber she’d squeezed beside it. The flapping of a pigeon’s wings against the glass high above made her glance up. Beside the window, the green indicator light on the camera in the corner caught her attention.
Shit. Her stomach dropped. Leighton was in a mood for a reason. Last night’s kiss hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Chapter Sixteen
Not even five minutes after she’d arrived in the studio, Leighton looked up to find Stefan closing her office door with the toe of his red Chuck Taylor’s. He placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of her as she rummaged in her drawer for her favorite nibbed pen.
“Parking ticket?” He dropped into one of the leather chairs and sipped his coffee.
“No.” She scowled at him.
“Jury duty?” He blew across the surface of his drink and took another sip.
She stared at him now. “No.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeast infection?”
“No, and that’s rude.” She didn’t bother to suppress her agitation.
“Well, you haven’t gotten laid. That much is clear.” He pulled an opened package of Skittles from his shirt pocket and shook a few into his mouth before he rolled it up and returned it.
Leighton flipped open her sketchbook. “Aren’t you clever?” She wasn’t in the mood.
“What’s going on with you?” At least he was direct this time.
“Nothing.” Her answer came too fast to be convincing.
“Yeah, that’s believable.” Sarcasm laced his tone. “I’m glad you went into art and not into acting.” He propped his feet up on her desk like he dared her to tell him to move them so he could gauge her level of irritability.
Well, she wasn’t falling for that. Instead, she eyed the soles of his shoes with enough fury they should’ve given off tendrils of smoke.
He waited for her to say something, but when the seconds of silence stretched into double digits, he sighed. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Cas—”
“I said it’s nothing.” What was wrong with her? Who talked to their friend and employee like that? She shook her head and stared at her desk. “I’m sorry. I had an awful night. That’s not an excuse to be short with you.”
“It’s not like you to question my teaching. Go ahead. You can, but you and I both know I’m an excellent instructor. However, I don’t need you jumping into the middle of my lesson and undermining me in front of my students. They need to respect both of us.” He held his mug to his sternum. “It’s also not like you to snap at a student, let alone during a lesson you’re not even teaching.”
Leighton picked up the second mug and leaned back in her chair. “You’re right. I apologize for my rudeness. I shouldn’t have interrupted your class.” She blew across the top of the hot liquid and took a drink. Even with a splash of oat milk, it burned her tongue, but she didn’t care. Her irritation wouldn’t die. “She still should’ve been using her Munsell chips.”
“Something tells me this isn’t about paint at all, but you don’t seem in a chatty mood, so I’ll go spend time with my students.” He lowered his feet and stood. With one hand on the doorknob, he hesitated. “You can tell me about it, whatever it is. I’m here for you.” He waved a hand toward the studio. “I don’t think my boss will fire me if I step away from my class for a few minutes.”
She chuckled, and it felt foreign. Darkness had plagued her since last night. Until she’d witnessed the kiss, her attraction to Casey had been just that. Then, after hours of nocturnal contemplation, she’d realized what she felt for Casey was more convoluted.
His chair gave a groan as he fell into it. “So, are you going to tell me what’s up? Is this why you called me in the middle of the night?” He gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I had my phone on do not disturb.”
She sank back into her chair. “Yes, but you don’t need to apologize. You work enough. I don’t need you available twenty-four hours a day.”
“Okay.” He folded his hands. If they traded chairs, an onlooker might think he was her therapist. In some ways, he was. “However, I assume you were calling me as a friend, not as your co-instructor.”
Leighton closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes, I was.” She fidgeted. “I saw something on the cameras.”
Stefan scooted forward. “Did he break the restraining order? Did you call the police? I should’ve had my phone on.”
She tried to calm him with her palms in the air. “Stefan, Stefan. No, he had nothing to do with it. I saw something happen in the studio.”
“Theft?” He paused. “It happens. Art students love supplies, and it’s rare for them to be sitting on a bunch of dough. I thought the cameras would be a deterrent.”
He could get on a tangent like no one else. She’d forgotten just how much.
“Hey, breathe. No one stole anything.” She questioned the accuracy of her statement but continued. “I saw Mikala and Casey kiss.”
“Oh.” His voice dropped. “Okay. Is that all? Why did you call me? Did you want me to spray them with a garden hose or something?”
“Hilarious.” She didn’t pretend to laugh, being in no mood for jokes.
He sighed. “Hey, I know that’s not something you wanted to see, but it’s not that unusual, you know? You’ve done worse in a vacant studio.”
“Hush.” Sometimes, she wished he didn’t have such an in-depth history on her, but that’s what came with friends. It was a package deal. She shrugged. “I just wanted someone to talk to. It upset me, and I know it shouldn’t, but it did.” Her throat tightened just thinking about it.
He scratched at a bit of dried paint on his jeans. “You’re in a rough place, but try to hang in there. I wish I had better advice to offer, but I don’t know what to tell you. It’s a sticky situation, and I’m sorry things aren’t different for you.”
Her heart warmed hearing his concern. “Thank you. I don’t expect you to have all the answers. Someone to talk to is all I wanted.”
He sat forward and squeezed her hand. “I’ll change my do not disturb settings on my phone so your calls and texts will get through.”
She patted his hand on hers. “You’re sweet, but there’s no need. I’m overreacting.”
He stood. “Give it time, Leighton, give it time. I know it seems dark now, but the light will shine again.” He opened the door and had almost closed it behind him.
“Wait.”
He poked his head inside.
“Send Mikala in here. I owe her an apology.”
Thank goodness she’d hired him. He was invaluable, both as an instructor and friend. Most people would’ve been fearful to tell her when she was wrong, but not Stefan.
Like it or not, she’d acted without reason, or at least a valid one. Mikala hadn’t deserved her tongue-lashing. She’d done nothing wrong, at least not knowingly. It wasn’t Mikala’s fault Leighton harbored an infatuation with a student and her jealousy had driven her to lash out. Unfortunately, she couldn’t explain those things.
