Chapter 8

She'd been working for hours since leaving the studio. She’d seen a whole new side to him that day, he’d gone from surly and angry to jubilant as the song finally clicked, and she’d somehow helped. A slight smile flickered onto her lips. She’d HELPED. Her mind picked through the tiny tidbits of information she'd experienced, and remembered all she’d learned about the man. Even after work he stuck with her, his excited “one more time Don,” echoing in her brain. That excitement is what had her settling at her work station. She’d felt the urge to try for the first mock up. It wasn't for him to see, not by any means, it was too soon for that, but she needed to get a handle on the things he had told her, had actually made her think and feel.

Purples blending into gold with shades of gray playing about the edges and shot through like marble. Redemption. Finding forgiveness was the thing he needed, she felt that, she wasn't too sure what all he'd done in the past year or two, but he wasn't forgiving himself for it, that much she could both see and feel from his music. It was a shame really; he seemed to have a lot to offer.

He had looked so nice today, totally different from the first time she’d seen him. Those black pants had accentuated his long legs and that shirt? Jesus it had emphasized that burly chest of his. Of course you couldn’t miss the chest; he’d left nearly all of the buttons undone. Then again he’d rolled up his cuffs and that had shown his muscular forearms, hell even his upper arms were well defined through the cloth of the sleeves. Painting him would be a pleasure she just knew it. Shut up Alex, you don't paint anymore remember? And you damn sure won’t start again with him, that would be non productive to your sanity.

The cover wasn't behaving though as ideas tumbled upon each other and nothing seemed to mesh. It was if a vital piece was missing. She glanced at the clock and huffed, shit it was getting late. Come to think of it she hadn't eaten that day, between getting lost in watching him record and all she had to do afterwards; food had become a forgotten thing.

She pushed back from her workstation with a frown. Maybe it was too soon. She didn't know enough yet, hadn't seen enough yet. She'd still yet to see him in action, or at play, and nothing had happened to let her see what the real man was like away from "his job."

Shoving her laptop, various papers, a few pencils and her trusty sketchpad into her already overloaded and much abused tote bag, she stretched and shut down the work computer before turning the lights off underneath her artist’s station. It was time to find a small place to eat, then home to sleep and hopefully forget about the newest wrinkle in her life, one Richie Sambora.

She left the building and started walking home, her mind still swirling over how to blend purple, gold and shades of gray into a workable combination when something totally divine assaulted her nose. Holy Hannah it smelled good, like mild spices all combined together. Stopping she glanced up and saw that it was a small café, and shrugged as she turned and walked through the doorway. Good enough place to eat, and hey I can get away from .. She pulled herself away from her thoughts as the hostess walked up. Damn if it wasn’t time to get away from work, if just for a few moments. She nodded to the hostess and took a free table at the back of the room. Perfect. She was out of the way and wouldn’t be bothered by anything as she gave herself a few moments to relax.

Scanning the menu she quickly made her decisions on her night’s meal, giving the waiter her order swiftly. She glanced around as she settled back in her chair, nice place really. Not too fancy but not a fast food place. Man she hated fast food, lived on it too often, so it was nice to look forward to a full regular meal.

As she waited on her meal she studied the room. It was one of her favorite things to do, study people.You’re like him in that regard Alex. There was always a moment, a glance or something that defined a person, and that moment had always made it into her painting, well back when she actually dared to pick up the brushes, oils and canvas. She didn’t do that anymore, she’d put it away as a childish thing when she’d went into graphic design. Oh be honest with yourself Alex, you put it away because you failed at it. You couldn’t get a show, you couldn’t sell even one piece of art, you failed. The word echoed in her mind as her shoulders tensed and the word washed through her like acid. Failure.

She shook it off and reached for the glass of ice water in front of her. No need to over think the past, she couldn’t undo that. She had a good life now, yes she did, and she was successful in the profession she’d chosen. THAT was what she’d think on. So what if she went home to an empty house or didn’t have time for friends. It was the price you paid for success.

Her head tilted as she watched the room. Seemed like everyone there was with someone. She was the only one sitting alone. Maybe this place was a mistake, it seemed to be couple’s city, lovers’ hands being held, soft teasing laughter; the entire atmosphere just screamed romance. Once upon a time her true nature would have reveled in it, went home and painted because of it, but now all she found herself doing was shaking her head at the frivolousness of it all.

Her life wasn’t so bad. She was top in her field, called on for music, movies and TV to design covers, websites and whatever else was needed for the new things coming out. She was busier than busy, not having anyone in her life, well it wasn’t bad. She had no time for love, hell, it had no time for her either not since…No need to go there either Alex girl. It’s over with, done. You can’t change that even if you wanted to. Besides there’s no space in your life for family or kids as it is. Don’t have to ever explain THAT to anyone ever again.

She sipped her water and groaned appreciatively as the plate of food was settled in front of her. Damn it smelled good. Her thoughts stopped suddenly, her hand halfway to her lips with the first bite of food as the room darkened slightly, the stage taking on a soft glow. Oh they were going to have live music? Well it was better than eating to giggles, soft laughs and conversation.

Her eyes widened when he stepped onto stage, a simple acoustic strapped to his shoulder. Well holy shit, of all the luck. She took a bite of food and started to grin. He had no idea she was here, she could watch him and get a feel for his music without his input, without him overwhelming her senses. As he started to play without an introduction or a word spoken, her eyes honed in on his hands. Strong hands with long fingers, they were an artist’s hands. Wonder if he caresses a woman the way he strokes those strings? ALEX! Good god, he’s a contract not a potential bed partner. Quit staring at him like he’s the water in the desert and you haven’t had a drink in years. Get over it now.

As the music easily flowed from one song to the next she found herself listening intently to the in between moments, and found a part of the man she'd not seen in the studio. Here, he was a man at ease; here, he laughed and even made a few jokes. Well, well, he was a funny guy when he wanted to be it seemed. As his chatter moved into a new song her hand reached for her pad, food forgotten and she began to sketch, her fingers flying over the page with ease.

She glanced up from time to time, and got lost in the motions of his hands on the guitar. Good lord, look at how fluid the muscles of his arms are when he plays. His fingers are so long. Goddamn what was she doing? She didn't pay attention to things like that anymore. Seeing the form, the ability to translate it to art, she'd thrown that away a long time ago. NO NEED to start picking it up again. She shoved the pad away from her, settling the pencil on the table. She so wouldn't translate him to page. No, doing that made them a part of her and she couldn't, she WOULDN'T do that now.

But the flow of his fingers on the strings, the emotions of the words and music called to her. Hell the way his hands moved beckoned and as his voice whispered and growled out the need for something, her hand again found the pad, her fingers the pencil as she again began to sketch.

When the waiter brought her the check she almost hated to lay the pad down. He was so easy to capture, so open and giving when performing. She had two sketches already, and more in mind. Fuck Alex, stop it, he's a JOB nothing more. Truth was, he was just too damned dangerous in this element. But baby could he play that guitar.