Page 33 of The Charmer

Glancing around the studio, her heart swelled with pride. Sunlight streamed through the soaring windows, filtering through the colourful gauze swaths of chiffon she’d hung from curtain hooks, casting a warm, rainbow over the room. Combined with the refreshing tang of citrus from the aromatherapy candles, and the bright ruby and amethyst colour combination of the furniture against the polished oak boards, the place looked inviting: warm, welcoming, a haven.

Her haven. It had been from the minute she set foot in this room, a scared and starving eight year old who thought she’d stepped into a fairytale treasure cave. The colours had bewitched her, the cosiness had beckoned, and Barb had set her up with an easel and paints like she belonged here.

Thanks to Aunt Barb, that feeling hadn’t waned over the years. If anything, it had intensified, to the point she couldn’t see herself living and working anywhere else. Colour by Dreams had made all hers come true.

It meant everything to her.

She wanted Cooper to view the studio how she saw it, to feel its ambience, to recognise how much it meant to her.

This wasn’t just about her fervent promise to Aunt Barb. This was her home, the only home she’d ever known, and she would fight with everything she had to hold onto it.

The wind chimes over the gallery front door tinkled and Ariel took a deep breath, wondering what made her more nervous: rejecting Cooper’s pitch or seeing him so soon after he’d almost made her swoon like the women whose vintage clothes she favoured.

“Ariel?”

“Be right there,” she called out, casting one last frantic gaze around the studio and wondering if it was too late to wear her lucky garland.

Though it would clash terribly with her flowing, floral dress cinched at the waist with a crocheted macramé belt, and pink flip-flops. Not that she usually cared, revelling in combining colours, patterns, fabrics, and shoes with creative abandon, but she’d told Cooper about the garland’s significance and didn’t want him prying further.

Crossing her fingers behind her back that after hearing Cooper’s pitch she wouldn’t want to tear his eyes out, she pushed through the beaded curtain.

“Right on time.” She injected enthusiasm into her voice. “This business meeting must be important to you.”

“It is.”

Her tone had been light and flippant, his was anything but. Combined with his charcoal designer suit, white shirt, burgundy tie, and an expression that could’ve frozen ice in Antarctica, he looked ready for business. Serious business.

Ironic, considering she could’ve sworn he’d had monkey business on his mind when last here.

“Go through to the studio and I’ll flip the lunch sign. How long is this going to take?”

“Not long if you’re sensible about it.”

Ariel’s narrow-eyed glare was lost on Cooper as he strode past her and into the studio.

She waited for some recognition of her efforts, some small comment that he appreciated the beauty of the room, but after locking the gallery door, flipping the sign, and heading back into the studio, one look at the grim expression on his handsome face told her she’d prettied up the place for nothing.

He didn’t get it.

Not that she should be surprised. Despite the teasing chats, the traded barbs, and the light-hearted banter they’d exchanged, Cooper embodied the cold-hearted businessman she’d labelled him as soon as she’d learned his identity.

He’d dulled her senses with his nice act and foolishly, she’d let him.

“Have a seat,” she said, trying to quell the rampaging butterflies in her gut and failing. “Would you like a drink?”

“No thanks.”

He barely looked at her, rifling through a huge, scary black folder in his hands before pulling out an equally scary wad of paper.

“If you’re planning to bamboozle me with a lot of facts and figures about projections and land values, forget it. Just give me the basics.”

She plopped onto one of the sofas, kicked off her flip-flops, and curled her feet under her. Though her insides churned with dread, she needed to present a cool, calm façade, and making herself comfortable was part of that. Maybe she should invite this new, uptight version of Cooper to slip out of his shoes and take a load off too?

She smothered a giggle at the thought.

“I’m glad to see you in such a good mood,” he said, shooting her a quizzical look as he perched on the opposite end of the sofa, as far away from her physically as he could get without sliding onto the floor in an undignified heap.

“Let’s keep it that way,” she said, pasting a confident smile on her face when in reality she desperately needed to make another mad dash to the toilet.

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