Page 11 of Tempest

“It was great,” I say, flipping the page to the dinner side of the menu. “You’ve picked an impressive group of students.”

“I’m glad you think so,” she says with a wide smile. “We have special plans here, and it starts with them.”

“They’re all talented, but there are a few that have potential to make substantial changes in the industry,” I say. Vanessa said she picked this place because they have a decent gluten-free menu, something she knows I’m struggling with. I love bread and I miss it daily. I could live off croissants and coffee, two things I’m not supposed to be consuming now.

I’ve become a tea drinker. It’s not so bad, but it’s not coffee.

“A friend is meeting us here; I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” I say, dismissing her concern. “What friend?”

“One of the professors at Seattle U, Preston Wyatt.”

“If ever there were a professor’s name,” I tease, and she laughs.

“Am I missing the fun already,” a deep voice asks. He’s tall, attractive, with dark hair, a strong jaw, friendly eyes, and who looks like a professor, dressed in a tweed jacket. But it’s tailored to perfection, and he wears it so well that he doesn’t look outdated or stuffy. Quite the opposite. In fact, he looks…appealing.

“Hello, Preston. Glad you could make it,” Vanessa greets him. “This is Odette Quinn.”

“Lovely to meet you,” I say, sliding farther into the booth, allowing him room to sit.

“Likewise. Vanessa has spoken quite highly of you.”

“All lies.” I laugh. “I promise I’m much more of a stubborn twat than she’s let on.”

“That’s nearly verbatim what she said you’d say,” he tells me with a smile that’s just slightly lopsided. A small, faded scar sits at the upper corner of his mouth, and I wonder how this pretty man could have possibly gotten it. It reminds me of Gavin Vaughn, whose body had many marks from years of hockey.

Truthfully, the short time I spent with Gavin has been wreaking minor havoc on me all week since meeting his daughter. It was a formidable time in my life, and he had a larger impact on me than I like to admit. But I shake those thoughts away in favor of the man currently sitting beside me and eyeing me with the same appreciation I have for him.

“I may not see much of her, but I know her well enough,” Vanessa says. “Preston teaches art history.”

“Really? Are you only into the history or do you have an eye for it, as well?”

“I have a meager appreciation for it.”

“Now that’s a lie,” Vanessa says. “Preston has an amazing eye for talent. I’m jealous of a few pieces he’s managed to acquire for his personal collection.”

Preston holds his palms out in surrender as the server arrives to take our orders.

“Maybe you could come by my new home and help me find some pieces. I’m only barely settled and there are a handful of spaces that need artful attention,” I tell him.

“Ode bought the Denny mansion,” Vanessa adds.

“No shit? Do you know the history of the place?”

“Very little,” I confess. “I was told the original owner was a descendant of one of Seattle’s founding fathers, and it’s been owned by a corporation since the seventies and only occasionally used.”

That was obvious in my first walkthrough of the home. It felt sterile and impersonable, nothing in it felt handpicked with care to an overall aesthetic or personal feeling. It made it an even more appealing property for me to buy. It’s a bit of a clean slate inside an amazing historical shell. Something I can give renewed life with my personal taste and style.

My mother says I’m replacing my clients with the house. I can’t argue it, she’s probably right. An outlet for my own creativity has always been something I need. Only so much of that can happen through my own wardrobe.

The house is massive, it’s going to take me the better part of a year to give it the life it deserves, but I’m up for the challenge.

“The corporation was the Unification Church,” Preston says.

“The Moonies,” Vanessa asks, and Preston hums in acknowledgement.

“Wait, wasn’t that the church with AR-15s?” I can’t hide the shock, nor the humor in my voice. Of course, the agent I worked with left out that “minor” detail.

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