Page 14 of Paolo DeLuca
Chapter ten
Lyrichadnoclue what time it was when she finally fell asleep. She saw Franco standing outside her window when she got ready for bed. He looked right dead at her. Lyric expected Franco to speed away when she saw him, but he didn’t. She could only assume he was ordered to stay there by a certain dark, brooding, handsome boss. Lyric sighed. She had to get Paolo DeLuca out of her head, or he would haunt her dreams.
Lyric turned away from the window. There was only one thing to do to settle her mind enough for sleep. She pulled out her paints. Painting was the only thing that would help her. The subject? That was easy. Her boss had a dangerous aura and a sexy mysteriousness that screamed to be put to canvas.
Lyric went to work.
Three hours later, the Paolo DeLuca she first saw standing in front of her when he stepped into Night Shade stared back at her in all his dark glory. Lyric stood back from her manic creation.
“Damn, that looks good,” she muttered, briefly inspecting her work. Hopefully, it was enough to keep him out of her head for a little while.
She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Four in the morning already!” Lyric washed the paint off her hands, then changed her paint-splattered clothes. Before sliding beneath her covers, Lyric padded to the window. Surely, there was no way she’d see Franco parked outside this early in the morning. And if he were, she would have a little talk with Mr. DeLuca. He was not her man. She was not happy with him telling her what to do last night. But she guessed she could give him the benefit of the doubt this time because he was right; she feared what could have happened if he hadn’t stepped in.
But best believe it would be the last time she let him tell her what was best for her. She didn’t give a shit if he was her boss. Lyric finally settled for the night with her mind at ease with her decision on how to handle Mr. DeLuca.
She was off the next day and planned to take some of her paintings to the nearby gallery and check out an exhibit or two there. Then it was another night of reading the paranormal romance novel she’d just started and eating a pint of butter pecan ice cream. She couldn’t wait to see if the two wolf shifters could rescue their lioness from her father.
Lyric showered and dressed quickly, then sifted through the pile of canvases propped against the wall in the corner of the room, trying to decide which to take to the gallery. Her eyes kept drifting to the one she finished painting just a few hours ago. Portraits weren’t her specialty, but this was probably the best one she’d ever done. Lyric wrestled with her thoughts and pulled her gaze away from the painting of Paolo DeLuca. She continued her search, finally settling on a landscape of a lake in a park her grandparents used to take her to feed ducks she’d painted from memory. She grabbed another of a small pod of dolphins hunting in the glades. She’d lucked up and took pictures of them one day while in a helicopter with some friends. It was one of those gimmicks people used on the tourists frequenting Miami every year just to get their money. But she had to admit, it was fun.
With her paintings chosen, Lyric picked up one of the drop cloths from the floor and placed it over the portrait of Paolo. She promised herself it would never see the light of day. It would be her little obsession, one she needed to quickly overcome if she wanted to keep her job at Night Shade.
Lyric expected more people to be milling about when she walked into the art gallery. However, only the manager and a few staff made sure things were in their proper place. She made her way to Ms. Landry with her paintings in hand.
“Hi, Ms. Landry,” Lyric greeted.
The woman, who was old enough to be Lyric’s mother, faced her with a small smile when she saw her.
“Hello, Lyric. What do you have for me today?”
Lyric made her way to the back of the gallery, where she could pull her canvases from her portfolio.
“This is lovely,” Ms. Landry cooed. “I like how it looks like the water is rippling on the surface.”
Lyric’s smile spread wider. She appreciated every time someone complimented her work. It made her feel as if all her sacrifice and dedication to stay in school was worth it. If not for school, her art would be mediocre at best. Since she’d sold a few pieces over the past two years, it was safe to say school was paying off. Ms. Landry pulled out the other canvas and looked it over.
“We’ll set both of them out for tonight.”
She picked up the paintings and handed them to a passing staffer, giving them instructions on where to hang Lyric’s paintings.
“I appreciate it, Ms. Landry. I have a few more pieces, but hopefully, these two will be enough to pay for my classes.”
“I’m glad you’re still in school.” Ms. Landry put a small hand on Lyric’s shoulder and squeezed. “I admire your tenacity to see it through.”
“Thanks, Ms. Landry,” Lyric gushed.
“Will you be coming tonight?”
Lyric nodded. “You know this place is one of my favorite pastimes.”
They headed to the next room, where most of the art was in place for tonight.
“Well, take all the time you need,” Mrs. Landry said. “I have to call the caterers to ensure the food and champagne will be here on time.”
“Bye, Ms. Landry. I’ll see you later tonight,” she called over her shoulder as she headed out the door to her beat-up old clunker.
She left the gallery well after lunch. Her stomach grumbled, announcing it had waited long enough. “Time to eat,” she muttered, but she couldn’t wait to be amongst all the elegance the showing would bring tonight. The fancy dresses, food, and the live music she knew Ms. Landry always hired for these events were always magical to Lyric.
Mr. DeLuca promised someone would bring her car. While she slept last night, someone parked it on the street in front of her building. “At least he made good on that promise.”
