Page 53 of Siren's Heart

"Fuck. Poor Mary," I say, rubbing my hand over my face and reaching for my own phone to make a note to shoot my financial advisor a message. "Let's see what we can do."

Her eyes light up with happiness once more, and she nods eagerly. Curiously, she eyes the different glazes Mary left on our table, but I can tell that the news is bringing her down. I nudge her foot with mine and wait until she lifts her eyes to meet mine.

"We'll make it right, Millie. It's going to be fine. She’s our first date spot, and I’m not about to let her go bankrupt."

She raises her eyebrow, like she doesn't quite believe me, but finally lowers her head in a slight nod, then reaches for the first color.

The following hour goes by with us barely exchanging words. She's one hundred percent focused on her mug, while I'm more focused on watching her work. Her intent gaze on the mug…the way she takes her time meticulously planning out where to put which color. She even steals some of my turquoise, and I can't wait to see what her mug looks like when she’s finished.

Meanwhile, I keep it simple. The body of my mug gets painted turquoise, and I steal some of her gold for the rim, deciding against using the purple. After seeing it on the shelf, I'm not too thrilled with the color, but hey, maybe it will look better once it’s done. I sure hope so. I was really proud of the shape I created, and it would suck if I hated it because the color turned out ashy.

God, she's so beautiful when she’s working. I could watch her all night. Then I get an idea.

I take one of the carving tools and try to see if I can carve into the bottom of my mug. It’s an awkward angle, but by some miracle, it works. Blowing away the dry clay powder I scrape off, I eye the line I just tried to carve. It's not perfect by any means, but I can work with that.

It takes a lot more effort than I anticipated, but I'm somewhat satisfied after a few touch-ups with glaze and an array of brushes. It's even legible! Well, if you know what it's supposed to say.

I take the smallest brush I can find on the table and try to fill out the carving in gold. Not to toot my own horn, but I'd say it's pretty successful, standing out beautifully against the turquoise.

There. Now I'm done. It looks great. If I add anything more, I'd just be giving in to my 'too much' syndrome and ruin it.

Then I keep it hidden by tilting the opening towards me, as I continue watching Millie paint hers.

"This is the best date I've ever been on, hands down," Millie raves as we step outside. "I had so much fun. Thank you, Luca."

"Guess we'll have to do it again, then," I grin and pull her closer, putting my arm around her shoulders. Like a year-old gesture, she snakes her arm around my hip as we start walking in unison.

Tonight is a really nice night. Spring has announced its arrival, and while we definitely needed our sweatshirts out here last week. Now it’s the weird kind of weather where I’m sweating in my hoodie, and Millie’s dress doesn’t seem quite warm enough.

“Would you like my hoodie?” I ask against her temple as we walk, but she shakes her head.

“I’m not that cold.”

“Sunshine, you have goosebumps all over your arms,” I point out, but she only purses her lips and shakes her head again.

“I’m fine.” She glances up at me. “Thank you, though.”

It's still pretty warm as we walk back to the car, the sun painting the sky in a beautiful pink.

The sky is a beautiful pastel purple today as the sun sets, the few clouds out today tinted in a vibrant pink as the last sun rays illuminate them.

"Can we go for a walk?" Millie asks shyly, squeezing my hip. "I'm not ready for our date to end yet, and I’m not hungry enough for dinner."

My chest fills with warmth, my heart fluttering viciously. I’m not ready for it to end, either. Then again, I doubt I’ll ever be truly ‘ready’ to leave her out of my sight.

"There's a park down the street," I point out. I found it when I checked out the area before I had Van call the studio.

"Perfect."

By some stroke of luck, we're the only pedestrians on the street; only a few cars drive past us, paying us no mind. Like the gentleman I am, I walk between her and the street, shielding her from curious eyes that find our direction occasionally. Or I’m just imagining it.

When we reach the park, I notice that there aren’t many people there as well. When both of us sigh in relief simultaneously, we break into a chuckle.

"So, how did you get into acting?" Millie asks me curiously as we slow down our pace. Her eyes dance over the trees and the first blossoming flowers in the grass, before they find the shimmering water inside a giant fountain that makes up most of the park.

"I always liked acting," I tell her and pull her aside when a biker passes us just a bit too closely for my liking. "We did a nativity play in elementary school, and from the moment I got to play one of the mean innkeepers, I was hooked."

"Ahhwww," she says and nudges me. "You were one of the mean guys!"

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