Quatre

Leah Monroe

I drew my brush over the blank canvas slowly, edging, hoping the invisible lines would give some inspiration. But it doesn't.

I knew it. There's a crack somewhere in me and I thought a small part of it would mend if I escaped this place long enough. But it was still there, maybe even wider. Who was I kidding? This vineyard was only a grim reminder of her and that will never change. 

And it didn't help that I was in the very spot where she gave me my first paint brush. She said I had a knack for it, just like her, and it was an easy breakout from reality. Now I can't even do that. 

I fell back on my chair and placed my focus on the legacy my great-grandparents built some 200 years ago. It was somewhere I cherished, called home, but there was no way anything could go back to how it was. Not when she's gone.

Over my board I saw the familiar black Audi drive in, and my pulse raised. Xander was back, he drove out this morning before I could thank him for what he did last night. I didn't want him to think that I wasn't grateful for it because only God knows what my father would do to us both if he found out. Especially to Xander. Boys were a sore topic growing up and being twenty two didn't mean anything now that he had plans for my life.

I watched as Xander stepped out of the car, in that same crisp grey suit that he was wearing this morning. Even with all that rum out of my system, he looked great. A fact I tried to ignore earlier since my father was staring right at me. He rechecked the car then walked towards the wind retail shacks. No one would be around that part yet so I made my way over.

I rounded the bend to where he disappeared. And I spot him, leg propped up against the retail shack's wall, his grey jacket discarded by a cart. The sleeves of his milk white shirt rolled up, just enough to show the base of his biceps. In one hand, he held a small white box and in the other, he fumbled with a cigarette between his fingers. Clouds of smoke flooding from his lips. I did take notice of the rise of his lips as he took another puff. 

I cleared my throat, making my presence known. "I heard you weren't supposed to be working today."

His body went rigid for a second, shoving whatever he was holding in his pocket. I tried to see what it was but he was too fast.

His eyes landed on me, gaze laze. And I must admit, it made me a little anxious. "Well your father changed his mind, lucky me." 

It's obvious I caught him at the wrong time. But me, being me, moved a little closer so we were facing each other. "You don't enjoy being around people that much do you? A lot of people would have something to say about that."

"Are you one of those people, Miss Monroe?" I shook my head. Something told me he wouldn't care even if I did. "Then why are you here?"

Involuntarily, I took a step back, despite being fully dressed in my armani slacks, I felt miniscule compared to him. An odd energy pulsated from him, something strong, imposing. 

Finally, I managed to get my brain functioning again. "Last night, I was out of it and you didn't have to help me but you did and you have no idea what that means to me."

His only reaction was the slight tightening of his jaw and silence. Maybe I wasn't being convincing enough. Suddenly an idea came to mind, I had a room full of paintings with nowhere to put them thanks to my father, apparently painting my heart on a canvas wasn’t of Lavigne’s standard.

"Maybe I can get you something. Are you into modern art?"

Now he decided to react, taking a stride closer to me. His stern body looming over me, I forced myself to meet his eyes again. They were thunderous. "Miss Monroe, a decent person offers help, expecting nothing in return. What kind of person do you think I am? You rich kids think that money is the answer to everything don't you?"

So much for being nice. "That's not what I'm trying I do. Money isn't everything Mr. Hayes. It can't buy happiness."

"Clearly it can't buy friends either or else you wouldn't have been here talking to me." He sucked on his cigarette again then blew through his nose. I watched as the smoke hit the air and I grimaced. Lavigne had a strict policy of no smoking. Something I think he knew. I opened my mouth to point it out, then I realised something, he wanted me to call him out. He was enjoying this.

I jab my hand on my hip. "I have friends. This is just me trying to thank you, why can't you just let me?"

"Listen, just because I saved your prissy little ass from your father means we're friends, you can't just pop up from anywhere and strike up a conversation with me."

"Asshole." I grumbled under my breath. But his eyes narrowed, looks like he caught it. 

"Excuse me?" 

I contemplated apologizing for a second but stopped myself before I could. I wasn't the one being mean. "You heard me? You're an asshole. I could play the spoiled rich heiress that you think I am and tell my dad to fire you for what I saw just now but I'm not the girl you think I am."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "And what did you see? Please tell me."

I folded my arms. He thought I was still talking about smoking so I wasn't ready for him to know what else I saw just yet. "You're not supposed to be smoking here. It releases impurities in the air, you should know the standards of the vineyard." 

He lowered his mouth to my ear and my breathing spiked. "And you're not supposed to be a half naked drunk that can't even open your own door."

My whole defense deflated in seconds, the warmth of my breath cajoled a shiver down my spine but he wasn't going to know that. Propping my chin up, I said, "That almost sounds like a threat." 

"It is if it'll get you to leave me alone. Or would you prefer I say please?" His voice was almost a snicker, as if he was holding back a laugh. We just met and he already enjoyed making me uncomfortable.

My eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as they clawed their way down his body. Under that suit was muscles of concrete that gripped me last night and it was wild and hot and amidst all that, I felt that they belonged there. The corner of his lips curved upwards, enough to draw me closer but it didn't take long for me to cut my fantasies short. I can't think of him like this, and he was giving plenty of reasons not to.

"Like I said, asshole." I gave him one last look before marching away to the kitchen. Hayley was sitting over a bowl of bacon and eggs. Yes, I did say bowl. But Xander's dick attitude was pressing me too much for me to press her.

I marched to the fridge and snatched up a jug of orange juice. "Woah. What is your problem?" I waved her off, trying to get a glass, I really needed something to cool me down? When I didn't answer, she asked again, "Leah, what happened?"

"It's dad's driver again." I broke off in a rant about Xander from start to finish. I can't believe he called me prissy. That bastard. He must think he's so clever to hold last night against me. If he's going to be here long, he needs to know that I'll never be cornered.

Hayley sat there silently, listening, while staring into the bowl. She didn't drink as much as I did last night but she looked a little out of it. Guilt welled inside of me.

"Wait, he took you up to your room last night?" She blurted out after a while. Guess she was fine after all.

I rolled my eyes. "Does it matter?" 

"Of course it does. Now stop what you're doing and tell me everything." She plucked the bottle from my hand and pulled me on a stool beside her.

Of course she was always digging for drama in places she'd never find any. "It's not that big of a deal. He lifted up the steps because I couldn't get up there without falling back down."

"And?" She pressed.

"Aaaaand what?"

She chomped off a piece of bacon. "How did he feel? Was he as hard as he looks?"

My mouth slackened, face heating. "Hayley, don't be vulgar. But, he did feel good." I admitted.

"Good or…." She trailed off, taking another bite.

"Don't even, I'm just glad he helped me out, though I'm still wondering why."

"I don't know. That's a question that only he can answer. Why don't you ask him?"

"And how am I going to do that? Whenever I try to talk to him, he shuts me down. And I think I saw him hiding something in his pocket just now."

"What could he be hiding from you? You already saw him smoking." She had a point. I hated when she does. But what could be hiding worse than smoking on the compound? I frowned. I do intend to find out.

"Oh no," Harley said. "I know that look."

"What look?" I asked incredulously.

"The look that tells me you're about to do something really stupid."

She knew me so well.

"I'm not, I swear."

"Uh huh." She was nodding but the look in her eyes said she didn't believe me for a second.

Through the window, I caught a glimpse of Xander walking towards my father, all prim and proper. I took in a breath, feeling a sense of challenge. I did swear to Hayley that I wasn't going to do anything stupid but I was about to do something really really stupid.