Modern Girl's Guide to One-Night Stands (34 page)

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to be alone.”

“Like them.” She waved him off and pointed to a couple just exiting.

There was a man pushing a woman in a wheelchair. He carefully took a bundled baby out of her arms and went over to the waiting minivan.

“I’d bet that’s their first child. You can tell by the nervous way he’s holding him. And that orderly—did you see the way he smiled at the nurse? The way she blushed when she walked by? They are in a relationship they are trying to keep secret.”

“That’s interesting, but what do they have to do with what we’re talking about?”

“It’s easy to see things when you’re on the outside. You can pick up on little clues. But when I’m this close, I can’t tell. I couldn’t see what was going on with Luke until I’d stepped back. I don’t want to make that same mistake.”

“You don’t have to keep your distance to know how you feel. Let me in.”

“It’s hard for me. I’ve never had anyone to depend on. I thought I could rely on Luke, but that didn’t work out great for me. I lost myself for a long time. And now, I’m afraid the second I start relying on someone else for anything, I’ll be weak. I won’t be able to do it by myself.”

“You just haven’t had the right people in your life. Megan and I may not have had much support from our father over the years, but we did have each other, and we had our friends. I’m sorry that you didn’t have anyone like that in your life. Relying on other people doesn’t make you weak. If anything, having people in your life to support you makes you stronger.”

What he was talking about was exactly what she’d always wanted in her life. What she’d been missing since the accident. And for the first time she dared to believe it was possible. Turning back to Simon, Julia smiled reassuringly. "That night at the bar, when I saw you with Matt and Peter, I could tell that you were close friends. The way you laughed and interacted. You looked at ease being around them. I think that’s what caught my eye first.”

“And now? What do you see when you look at me now?”

“I see a man who’s dependable. One who’s good to his family and friends.” She touched his cheek, enjoying the bristle of his unshaved skin. How could she have ever doubted his intentions.? “I see a man who I can lean on when things are tough. Who will be supportive without crushing me or leaving me. I see someone who deserves my love.”

“Well it’s about time, because I’ve felt that way for a while now.”

“So when you said you would help someone you love, you really meant
love
love?”

“For someone so observant, you sure miss a lot. After these last few days, how could you not realize that I’m completely in love with you? Hell, I’m not sure I didn't fall in love with you that first night, months ago.”

Looking up at Simon she could see the truth in his eyes, and the last bit of her hesitation fell away. Leaning in, she closed her eyes and kissed him. It was the most tender kiss they’d ever shared.

“Are you okay?” Simon asked, nodding toward the hospital. “We can sit here for a minute before going in.”

“No. I had all day yesterday to process. I can’t change the fact she’s gone. I’ll miss her. Hell, I’ve missed her every day since the accident. She was beautiful and graceful. And from what I hear, quite the accomplished dancer before she had me. She's the reason I started dancing myself.”

This was the first time Julia could remember talking about what Mom was like before the accident. It was just too hard to remember life before, when all she could see was what had become of their lives. But it felt right talking to Simon about it.

“When I was little—I mean, barely old enough to walk—she’d take me to the studio and I’d watch her practice, doing my own version of pirouettes and leaps in the corner. She’d always stop and clap and tell me what a great dancer I was. I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.”

“Your mother sounds like a beautiful person. I wish I could have met her,” Simon said and pulled her into his side.

“She probably wouldn’t have liked you,” Julia said with a weak smile.

“I’m that bad, huh?”

Julia’s smile widened and she wiped the last of her tears with the back of her hand. “No, Mom wouldn’t have liked you. She would have loved you."

Despite all the tragedy and loss in her life, Julia knew that her mother and father had loved her deeply, and only wanted her to grow up happy and loved.

“I think I’m ready now,” she said, feeling a little lighter.

“I don’t care what the nurse says, I’m staying with you.” Pulling Julia up to her feet again, Simon lowered his mouth to hers again.

“Thank you, Simon,” she said as they headed toward the entrance, and much to her surprise, there wasn’t a ball of dread in the pit of her stomach on entering the lobby.

Chapter Twenty Two

Final Tip: It’s Not For Everyone—Don’t feel bad if you give a one-night stand the old college try but find out it’s just not your thing. The great thing about being a Modern Girl is you have choices.

“We’re going to be late,” Julia said as Simon continued to rub the orange-scented soap over her skin in long, sensual strokes. He'd supposedly come into the shower with her to speed things up, but the second he stepped in, Simon’s hands started to roam.

“We still have two hours before the gallery opens.” Simon pressed his stiffening cock into her backside and she groaned.

They didn’t have time, even if he was fast. Julia stepped away and rinsed off under the spray. Handing him the washcloth, she shot him a lopsided grin. “You’re going to have to do your own back. If I don’t get my hair dried, we’ll never make it.”

“You’re the artist. You can be fashionably late,” he argued.

“You’re right, I’m the artist. How would it look if I show up a half hour late to my own showing?”

“It would look like your time is in high demand,” he said.

“Not a chance,” Julia said with a saucy shake of her ass. “I have to get ready.”

Simon growled and stalked after her. With a squeal she ran, and he chased her into the bedroom. He caught her around the waist and they tumbled naked and wet onto the bed.

But he was right. Despite the impromptu quickie, they made it to the gallery with just seconds to spare. She might not have had as much time to get ready, but Simon managed to distract her from the growing storm of butterflies in her belly.

“Have I told how sexy you look tonight?” Simon whispered in her ear as they approached the gallery.

Julia had opted for a simple black dress with a peekaboo back, and through the straps the hint of her tattoo was framed like a work of art itself. It was daring and completely out of her comfort zone, but it felt right for the occasion. Julia fidgeted with her dress again and Simon placed a hand over hers.

“It’s going to be fine,” he assured her. “Everyone's going to love your work.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not sure about the stuff I added.”

He hadn’t seen all the pieces she was including in the show, and she really hoped she hadn’t overreached her own talent. The last-minute additions were inspired by Simon and were extremely personal. And then there was the memorial for her mother. Several of the photos were from before the accident, after Julia got her first camera. They weren’t professional, but together they told a story.

He squeezed her hand, trying to lend support, and they walked into the gallery. The first photo that greeted them was an extra-large print of the moon on the lake’s surface with the crane framed in the reflection.

“It’s stunning,” he said.

But before she could reply, Julia was nearly tackled by a screaming Megan.

“I knew you could do it,” Megan said, squeezing Julia.

A tall, waiflike woman glided up beside Megan and smiled. “I think tonight is going to be a success. I’ve already had several offers during the private viewing.”

“I can’t believe it. Thank you again, Naomi.”

“Your work speaks for itself. I’m expecting to make a good commission off tonight's sales, so I should be thanking you. Go mingle. I’ll do a formal introduction later."

Megan pulled Julia to the other side of the room and she looked back apologetically. Simon took the hint. Megan wanted some personal time with Julia. And that was fine. Simon wanted to explore.

He gave most of the photos a cursory glance, having seen a lot of the work already. But she’d been pretty cagey about her studio work and the shots she took at the Harper estate. He was dying to see them.

It was odd walking around and seeing the lake through her eyes. Sights he’d seen all his life were fresh and mysterious. Even the people he’d known since childhood seemed different in her portraits. He walked down the aisle, admiring her work. An overwhelming sense of pride hit him.

His girl was made of sterner stuff than most. This last month had been hard on her, but Julia didn’t fall apart. She moved forward, even while dealing with all the pain and trauma of her past.

Simon rounded the corner, heading for the back of the gallery, and caught sight of her mysterious studio photos. There were a series of eight photos featuring women dressed in ballet outfits, right down to the tutus and pointe shoes, trussed up like old-world marionettes.

The photos told a story, starting with a porcelain-faced ballerina in perfect on-pointe stance. The photos slowly told a story of slow deterioration, with the final photo showing the marionette dirty and broken, completely detached from its strings, crumpled on the floor.

While they’d never discussed this series, Simon felt like he was witnessing a photographic documentation of Julia’s own decline after her accident. He turned away from the series, determined to find her, to tell her that she wasn't broken, but he stopped dead at the sight before him.

There at the end of the aisle was Julia in all her stunning glory, completely nude.

Like the photo on her website, her features were obscured. The best parts were artfully masked with wisps of gossamer that seemed suspended on a light summer breeze. But he’d recognize those curves anywhere. Not to mention the tattoo.

He moved toward the photo, struggling to beat back conflicting urges to cover it with the nearby table, and the overwhelming desire to trace the arch of her back.

When he was close enough read the plaque, Simon smiled.

In the Light

It was perfect. But his smiled soon faltered when he noticed the small SOLD tag slipped into the corner. The fuck it was. There was no way he was letting anyone else have this photo. Cursing under his breath, he turned around and ran into Julia.

“Problem?” she asked, quirking up her lip in a sly smile.

He pointed to the photo. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Please tell me you didn’t really sell that.”

“Well, light is the natural contrast to the dark. Yin and yang. I thought it was only fair that it went with its mate.”

“You told me that photo wasn’t for sale,” he growled.
No way.
She was just going to have to call the buyer and tell him—and he was positive it was a man—the sale was off. Simon would make up the lost revenue if need be.

“It wasn’t.” Julia grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him against her. “I’m giving it to you. As well as this one. I wanted to have something to remind you of me while you’re in New York.”