Not even five minutes after she’d arrived in the studio, Leighton looked up to find Stefan closing her office door with the toe of his red Chuck Taylor’s. He placed a mug of steaming coffee in front of her as she rummaged in her drawer for her favorite nibbed pen.
“Parking ticket?” He dropped into one of the leather chairs and sipped his coffee.
“No.” She scowled at him.
“Jury duty?” He blew across the surface of his drink and took another sip.
She stared at him now. “No.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeast infection?”
“No, and that’s rude.” She didn’t bother to suppress her agitation.
“Well, you haven’t gotten laid. That much is clear.” He pulled an opened package of Skittles from his shirt pocket and shook a few into his mouth before he rolled it up and returned it.
Leighton flipped open her sketchbook. “Aren’t you clever?” She wasn’t in the mood.
“What’s going on with you?” At least he was direct this time.
“Nothing.” Her answer came too fast to be convincing.
“Yeah, that’s believable.” Sarcasm laced his tone. “I’m glad you went into art and not into acting.” He propped his feet up on her desk like he dared her to tell him to move them so he could gauge her level of irritability.
Well, she wasn’t falling for that. Instead, she eyed the soles of his shoes with enough fury they should’ve given off tendrils of smoke.
He waited for her to say something, but when the seconds of silence stretched into double digits, he sighed. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Cas—”
“I said it’s nothing.” What was wrong with her? Who talked to their friend and employee like that? She shook her head and stared at her desk. “I’m sorry. I had an awful night. That’s not an excuse to be short with you.”
“It’s not like you to question my teaching. Go ahead. You can, but you and I both know I’m an excellent instructor. However, I don’t need you jumping into the middle of my lesson and undermining me in front of my students. They need to respect both of us.” He held his mug to his sternum. “It’s also not like you to snap at a student, let alone during a lesson you’re not even teaching.”
Leighton picked up the second mug and leaned back in her chair. “You’re right. I apologize for my rudeness. I shouldn’t have interrupted your class.” She blew across the top of the hot liquid and took a drink. Even with a splash of oat milk, it burned her tongue, but she didn’t care. Her irritation wouldn’t die. “She still should’ve been using her Munsell chips.”
“Something tells me this isn’t about paint at all, but you don’t seem in a chatty mood, so I’ll go spend time with my students.” He lowered his feet and stood. With one hand on the doorknob, he hesitated. “You can tell me about it, whatever it is. I’m here for you.” He waved a hand toward the studio. “I don’t think my boss will fire me if I step away from my class for a few minutes.”
She chuckled, and it felt foreign. Darkness had plagued her since last night. Until she’d witnessed the kiss, her attraction to Casey had been just that. Then, after hours of nocturnal contemplation, she’d realized what she felt for Casey was more convoluted.
His chair gave a groan as he fell into it. “So, are you going to tell me what’s up? Is this why you called me in the middle of the night?” He gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I had my phone on do not disturb.”
She sank back into her chair. “Yes, but you don’t need to apologize. You work enough. I don’t need you available twenty-four hours a day.”
“Okay.” He folded his hands. If they traded chairs, an onlooker might think he was her therapist. In some ways, he was. “However, I assume you were calling me as a friend, not as your co-instructor.”
Leighton closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes, I was.” She fidgeted. “I saw something on the cameras.”
Stefan scooted forward. “Did he break the restraining order? Did you call the police? I should’ve had my phone on.”
She tried to calm him with her palms in the air. “Stefan, Stefan. No, he had nothing to do with it. I saw something happen in the studio.”
“Theft?” He paused. “It happens. Art students love supplies, and it’s rare for them to be sitting on a bunch of dough. I thought the cameras would be a deterrent.”
He could get on a tangent like no one else. She’d forgotten just how much.
“Hey, breathe. No one stole anything.” She questioned the accuracy of her statement but continued. “I saw Mikala and Casey kiss.”
“Oh.” His voice dropped. “Okay. Is that all? Why did you call me? Did you want me to spray them with a garden hose or something?”
“Hilarious.” She didn’t pretend to laugh, being in no mood for jokes.
He sighed. “Hey, I know that’s not something you wanted to see, but it’s not that unusual, you know? You’ve done worse in a vacant studio.”
“Hush.” Sometimes, she wished he didn’t have such an in-depth history on her, but that’s what came with friends. It was a package deal. She shrugged. “I just wanted someone to talk to. It upset me, and I know it shouldn’t, but it did.” Her throat tightened just thinking about it.
He scratched at a bit of dried paint on his jeans. “You’re in a rough place, but try to hang in there. I wish I had better advice to offer, but I don’t know what to tell you. It’s a sticky situation, and I’m sorry things aren’t different for you.”
Her heart warmed hearing his concern. “Thank you. I don’t expect you to have all the answers. Someone to talk to is all I wanted.”
He sat forward and squeezed her hand. “I’ll change my do not disturb settings on my phone so your calls and texts will get through.”
She patted his hand on hers. “You’re sweet, but there’s no need. I’m overreacting.”
He stood. “Give it time, Leighton, give it time. I know it seems dark now, but the light will shine again.” He opened the door and had almost closed it behind him.
“Wait.”
He poked his head inside.
“Send Mikala in here. I owe her an apology.”
Thank goodness she’d hired him. He was invaluable, both as an instructor and friend. Most people would’ve been fearful to tell her when she was wrong, but not Stefan.
Like it or not, she’d acted without reason, or at least a valid one. Mikala hadn’t deserved her tongue-lashing. She’d done nothing wrong, at least not knowingly. It wasn’t Mikala’s fault Leighton harbored an infatuation with a student and her jealousy had driven her to lash out. Unfortunately, she couldn’t explain those things.
Mikala approached her office.
Leighton took a deep breath and waved her inside. She planned to offer her a sincere apology. She didn’t have a plan for how to handle Casey.
* * *
After speaking to Mikala, whose acceptance of her apology seemed genuine, Leighton needed to switch gears. Her brushes needed to be cleaned and conditioned. She’d been putting it off for too long.
Fifteen minutes of standing at the sink doing a mindless task gave her time to think. She concluded she’d like to be wrong about what she’d witnessed, but in the end, it didn’t matter. Whether Casey and Mikala were a thing was their business. She took the clean, wet brushes back to her office to dry on her credenza.
A few minutes later, Casey rapped on Leighton’s open door. “Do you have a minute?”
Leighton glanced up from where she reformed the bristles on her favorite long-handled filbert. She was in too fragile of a frame of mind to deal with Casey. “I have one minute. What is it?” Her tone sounded curt, but she couldn’t find the will to soften it. From the look on Casey’s face she wasn’t pleased with her, and Leighton knew she deserved it.
Despite Leighton’s irritation and lack of sleep, Casey’s eyes enthralled her. Today, they appeared a true hazel. If Leighton were to paint them, she’d use glazes of transparent pigments. Perhaps start with phthalocyanine blue and nickel azo yellow, then add a touch of transparent red iron oxide. Leighton had never known hazel eyes to be so intriguing.
Casey stepped forward. “I want to talk about yesterday.”
Leighton interrupted her by raising her hand. “We had a pleasant chat. I enjoy getting to know all my students. Is there anything else?”
Casey turned crimson. “No, I meant last night.”
Against her will, Leighton’s stomach clenched at the memory. She opened her desk drawer and fumbled for her roll of antacids. “What about it?”
Casey stretched out her arm. “Can I close the door?”
Leighton peeled the wrapper and chewed a chalky tablet. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” She popped another one in her mouth.
“I think it is.” Casey inched closer. “But if leaving it open doesn’t matter to you, I’ll just say what I want about your voyeuristic tendencies right now.”
“Shut the door.” Leighton hadn’t meant to snap at her, but Casey had pissed her off. She needed some distance, so she sat in her executive’s chair, which would force Casey to sit across from her. Her desk would form a welcome partition. She didn’t need to breathe in Casey’s scent or touch her by accident. “I have every right to use those cameras. They’re a security feature, and I made everyone aware of them the first day.”
Casey didn’t sit. Instead, she stood a few feet away. “Regardless, I assume you saw. You wouldn’t be so upset if you hadn’t been watching. Do you always spy on us?”
Her unwavering voice and hostile eyes took Leighton by surprise. Casey gave her two choices—address the spying allegation or address the reason behind her upset state. She chose a third route.
“Saw what?” Leighton refused to show her hand, and she wouldn’t acknowledge Casey’s ludicrous accusation. She’d installed the cameras after her separation, not because of voyeuristic tendencies. Motion had caught her eye, nothing else.
“Mikala kissed me in the studio last night, and you must have been watching.” She paused. When Leighton neither confirmed nor denied her assumption, she stepped around the corner of the desk. “I also assume that’s what’s caused your bad mood. Maybe you shouldn’t use your cameras to babysit your students, especially when they’re adults.”
Leighton maintained eye contact, though Casey was breaching her defenses in more ways than one. “Do you always burst into your instructors’ offices and comment on their moods? I said I had one minute. Are you finished? I have things to do.”
Leighton saw the indignation register on Casey’s face as she glanced at the brushes. She moved until a foot separated them. Leighton looked away.
“Did you enjoy watching?” Her voice had become husky.
Leighton couldn’t blink. She wasn’t sure she remembered how to breathe. If Casey only knew what watching had done to her. It had been the antithesis of enjoyment.
“Did you enjoy seeing her kiss me? Watching her lips on mine?”
The squeak of Casey’s hand on the back of her chair happened a split second before the other one landed on the desk. Her warm breath tickled Leighton’s neck and made her pulse race.
Would someone glancing in assume they looked at her laptop’s screen? Leighton’s fingers tightened on the armrests, and she pressed the toes of her shoes against the floor.
“Did you imagine what it—”
“Go back to class. Now.” Leighton couldn’t do this. She was about to shatter.
With what sounded like a chuckle, Casey straightened. “Class isn’t in session. It’s open studio time.”
“Just leave, please.” Leighton couldn’t function with her this close.
“Mikala didn’t deserve that, you know.” Casey set her jaw.
Leighton held her head high. “No, she didn’t, and I’ve apologized to her.”
“Oh.” Clearly, Casey hadn’t been expecting that.
Leighton waved her hand toward the door. “Please.”
Casey took a few steps but didn’t leave. Instead, she turned. “Nothing happened, if you care. Mikala and I are friends and will remain so.” She paused, her hand on the doorknob. “Nothing changes. I still want to know you better.” Casey looked at her a moment, then opened the door and left.
Relief flooded through Leighton’s body and her trembling limbs. Mikala’s kiss had meant nothing. Yes, she cared, more than she’d ever admit to anyone.
More important than that, Casey knew she did. That’s why she’d bothered to explain. Well, explained after she’d played with her? Teased her? Dismantled her with a few cheeky questions? Whatever she’d done, Leighton wouldn’t have minded more of it in another time and place. Like it or not, that wasn’t about to happen with their respective roles.
Perhaps she couldn’t control how she felt for Casey, but at least she could manage her demeanor. As for those pesky feelings, she’d bury them. What else could she do? Until whatever existed between them faded, or Casey’s desire to know her better waned, she’d have to continue her frostiness for both their sakes if Casey was going to test her like that.
* * *
Later that evening, Leighton slid into bed beside Kalyssa and tucked the baby-blue Frozen comforter around them. Together, snuggled under images of Elsa and Olaf, Leighton read her the book she’d chosen. Kalyssa scooted closer, nestled against her side to look at the illustrations and words she couldn’t quite read herself.
With her mind on autopilot, Leighton turned the pages. She didn’t have an awareness of the story, but who could blame her? By the time she’d read the book this many times, she’d memorized it. Guilt hit her. She should be present for Kalyssa, not just in the physical sense but also mentally. As much as she tried, she couldn’t as her head swam with the day’s events. Casey had conjured feelings in her she hadn’t been privy to for some time. She’d give Kalyssa the bedtime reading of her life tomorrow, voices and all.
She kissed Kalyssa and clicked off the lamp. Only the glow of Kalyssa’s Pikachu light lit the room.
“Momma?”
“No, darling. We can’t read another book. It’s time to sleep.”
“That’s not my question. When do I get to come to the atelier with you?” Kalyssa sat up. Her pronunciation of the French word had improved, but it still made Leighton smile.
Leighton smoothed the hair from her forehead. “Soon, I promise. Do you remember the plastic easel you used last year?”
Kalyssa nodded. “Yes, when I fingerpainted.”
“Well, you’re a big girl now, so I got you a present, a real easel and brushes. What do you think about that?” The cups and brushes were still plastic, but the easel was wood.
Her eyes grew wide, and she grinned. “Like yours?”
Leighton scooted her down and tucked her in again. “Your easel isn’t as big, but yes. Real artists need real easels.” She kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, my little painter.”
She left Kalyssa’s bedroom door open an inch and went to the kitchen. She turned on the kettle to make tea. As she waited for the water to heat, she remembered how fierce Casey had been in her office. It’d enchanted Leighton to witness that side of her.
She’d been short with Casey. Her attitude had been intentional, but she needed to balance keeping her distance without harming Casey’s feelings. She had no desire to hurt her. Rather, she intended to do what she needed to get them, and the atelier, through the year intact. It was a necessary step to protect her livelihood, but she could also use the safeguarding. Look what had happened the last time she’d opened her heart to someone.
It’d been a roller coaster of a day. She’d had little sleep after replaying what she’d seen on the camera in her mind for the better part of the night. Had Casey not explained what had happened, she’d still be in that sickening state. But Casey had. However, she’d also accused her of being a voyeur. Leighton’s indignation soared again. She no longer worried about Mikala kissing Casey. Now she had other feelings to sort through. Casey had no right to judge her for having security cameras.
She’d often heard people say it was better to feel something than nothing at all. Based on the turmoil within her lately, she doubted the veracity of the statement.
The kettle whistled. She’d drink a cup of decaffeinated tea and go to bed. This day needed to end.