Page 9 of Sinful Secrets

“Not at all. I’m Savannah, and I’m a student here. I’m a senior and studying fashion.” She sticks her hand out for a handshake.

Taking her hand, I say, “Spencer. Are you okay?”

My gaze moves to her wrapped ankle.

“Oh, this? Yeah, I clumsily missed a step and hurt it. Thankfully, Alvin had this wrap. I’m normally not clumsy, but I have a lot on my mind.”

“Like your fashion career?”

“Yeah. It might not actually happen.” Her gaze drops to the floor as more tears fall.

So her tears aren’t solely for her hurt ankle. Why isn’t her fashion career going to happen? Why do I even care?

After she composes herself, she turns toward me with a soft smile on her perfectly symmetrical face. Her green eyes shimmer in the light, like a gem.

“So what keeps you coming here? Is it this painting? Is something bothering you with work?”

“What do you mean?” I blurt out while staring into her green orbs, like I’m hypnotized.

“I’ve seen you here every day for the past week. You always come in, walk straight to the back of the museum, and sit here on the bench. Sometimes you are only here for a few minutes, and sometimes you are here longer than I can stay.”

She’s been watching me?

Does she know who I am?

It’s not abnormal for a fan to notice me outside of the arena, but usually they say hello, ask for a picture, and ask for an autograph. Not watch me like a stalker.

She blinks her tears away as she waits for my answer. She doesn’t seem threatening, so I tell her the truth.

“I feel drawn to this painting. Just the way the artist painted himself in many ways feels like different facets of the same person and I relate to it.”

The painting is a man dressed up as a golfer, surfer, party animal, and businessman. He painted himself in all different angles as if he’s falling.

That’s how I feel sometimes. There’s so many sides of me I can’t share with anyone, and yet, it feels as if I am falling through life, waiting for the next obstacle to hit me.

She gazes at the painting, studying it for a few moments before nodding. “I can see that. I always thought it was his hopes and dreams. He hopes he can become a successful businessman and dreams of retiring to play golf or go surfing.”

“Interesting interpretation of the painting.”

“That’s what I love about art. Everyone can interpret it in a different way. It means something different for everyone.”

“I’ve never really been into art.”

“Then why do you come here? Are you in between jobs?”

I chuckle. “No, I have a job.”

Multiple, actually.

“Woman problems?”

I shake my head. “I’d have to have a woman in order to have woman problems.”

“So, you’re single, employed, and hot as hell?” Her eyes widen and her face turns red as she realizes what she just said. “Forget I even said that, okay?”

“No way. It’s been too long since a woman openly ogled me and called me hot.”

My phone goes off with a text from Rhett.

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