Foxblood #1: A Brush with the Moon

  Chapter Sixteen

  NOT AUBURN, strawberry-blonde, or even the brightest of redheads; my hair was tangerine orange. I turned my head slightly, reaching around to draw the full length over my shoulder. The colour gradually faded into white before ending at pure black tips. Extreme dip-dying, or what? How on earth was I going to explain this one?

  I tiptoed back into the bedroom, pulled on my jeans, an assortment of tops to layer up, and added some thick, warm socks before adeptly pinning my hair into a tight bun, making sure all the black-and-white ends were tucked safely underneath. A light sprinkling of make-up, and I was done.

  I walked over to the window and pulled the curtain to one side to see what the day had in store for us.

  Outside, the sun was beginning to rise. A light sprinkling of snow had dusted the rooftops and pavements like icing sugar on a cake, but the trees were still and the sky was free of clouds. A pink glow on the horizon blended subtly through muted shades of yellow and green to the expected blue of the day, and tiny bird silhouettes flitted between the chimneys and nearby electricity pylons.

  Letting the curtain fall from my hands, I turned to face Sebastian. He was lying on his side, studying me intently with a loving smile on his face.

  “I didn’t realise you were awake yet,” I said.

  “Only for a few minutes.”

  I mouthed a silent oh and joined him on the edge of the bed, unconsciously fingering a stray bit of fringe that had already escaped its constraints.

  He reached up to stroke the side of my head. “A rather daring choice for someone who doesn’t crave attention, but it certainly makes a statement. Is this the new you?”

  “Apparently. Although not through choice.”

  “Hmm. Tokala’s work, I presume?”

  “Unless there’s a psychotic hairdresser who likes to inflict crazy colours on people as they sleep, then, yes, I guess so.”

  “Well, I like it. It’s kind of Bohemian, and with you being an art student, I don’t think anybody will question it.”

  Apart from one person, maybe, and she was sleeping in the next room. We’d have to leave before she woke up.

  “Do you have plans for today?” I asked.

  “Not until tonight. Father’s hosting a media event at La Gratia in Carleigh. I thought you might like to go, and I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”

  I’d heard of La Gratia. It was a modern art gallery, built in the swanky part of the city about two years ago. A piece of art in itself, the gallery was shaped like a giant slice of melon, with full glass walls and a funky, modern water sculpture adorning the entrance. Mr Arkwright had mentioned it in our contemporary art class, and I’d been dying to visit there ever since.

  “I’d love to.”

  “Excellent. So, how do you want to pass the time until then?” he asked cheekily.

  “Hey, slow down, cowboy. I still need to recover from last night,” I said, pushing him away. “Get dressed. It’s a beautiful day for a walk.”

  Later, after a leisurely stroll up the river, we arrived at Lovell Towers. My frozen lungs felt starved of oxygen. I couldn’t feel the end of my nose, and my lips had shrivelled to half their normal size, but I felt invigorated by the exercise.

  I dumped my overnight bag on the bed, and Sebastian went to run me a hot bath. There, I lounged luxuriously in the warming bubbles and listened as muted voices began a whispered conversation in my bedroom.

  I caught a small snippet.

  “Patience, man, patience.”

  “But when, bro?”

  “It’s not something that can be rushed, or we’ll both lose out.”

  “It’s so hard.”

  “I know, but think of the prize.”

  “Seb? Who’s that?” I called.

  “No one exciting, only Connor,” Sebastian called back.

  I tried to relax, but I couldn’t. So I climbed out of the water and emerged from the bathroom still damp and wrapped only in a too-small towel.

  Connor’s eyes slowly travelled from my legs up to my face and grew wide at my appearance. He grabbed Sebastian’s arm. “Duuude!”

  “I know. It shocked me at first, too.”

  In my hasty nosiness, I’d forgotten to get dry, and I realised what he must be seeing. I’d failed at the first test.

  During the time it took me to dry off and get dressed for the evening, Sebastian recounted how Connor had followed Lara and Vincent over to Despots, where it was allegedly very quiet due to most of the town’s teenagers being at our place. There, they’d had a couple of drinks before Vincent drove Lara safely home, so the boys were able to rest easy in their bodyguard task.

  Finally, I was ready.

  “You look gorgeous,” Sebastian said.

  “Why, thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself. I’ve always loved the sight of a man in a suit.”

  I’d dressed simply in a midnight blue, knee-length belted dress and matching court shoes. My hair was loud enough. I didn’t need my clothes shouting out too.

  Suddenly remembering my dream, I wandered over to the dressing table and gingerly opened the wooden box’s ornate lid without really knowing what I expected to find.

  Inside its confines lay a purple velvet pouch with a drawstring top. I pulled it open and found that it contained an iridescent white stone disc pendant on a silver chain, exactly like the one in my dream. I lifted the chain over my head and allowed the milky stone to rest gently against the dark blue material of my dress.

  As I stood admiring my gift in the mirror, a knock on the door announced Connor’s return, and he opened it wearing a dark-grey suit identical to Sebastian’s, but he had accessorised it with a pink tie instead of Sebastian’s pale blue one. The combination of colours really accentuated their piercing eyes to a point where they became almost hypnotic.

  I smiled wide enough to eat a baguette sideways and hooked my arms through one each of the boys’ as we headed downstairs to Sebastian’s silver MG. I was one lucky girl, sandwiched between two truly hot guys.

  It was an interesting and enlightening evening. It being a private party, the gallery was closed to the general public. Sebastian’s father was exhibiting a selection of jewellery pieces by a young protégée—gorgeous, wacky designs, totally out of my price range, naturally.

  Mr Lovell Senior was still ruggedly handsome for a man in his fifties, with his slightly greying hair giving him a distinguished air. His strength of character was as obvious as his strength of body, and I could understand why Sebastian jumped when his father asked. Hemming Lovell didn’t look like a man with whom you could argue. But I understood where Sebastian had got his charm. His father was full of compliments whilst retaining a certain aloofness which suggested that his expectations of Sebastian’s and my relationship were not that high. Hemming was, however, fascinated by my pendant, and enquired as to its origins. I mentioned only that it was a present from a friend and quickly changed the subject.

  The complete opposite of Hemming, Connor’s father, Seth, was slightly smaller in form and fairer in colour. When he stood next to his petite, dark, and rather exotic-looking wife, they painted a striking couple. Of course, both men had the Lovell eyes, which they used to great effect during the course of the evening to direct proceedings.

  Sebastian was ever-attentive. He introduced me to the young designer and made sure that my glass was always full. Then, as I chatted with a pleasant bubble-faced—although it just looked like a bad case of acne to me—demon named Bob, who was extolling the virtues of owning a large chain of ironmongers, I spotted Connor and Sebastian with their fathers in a corner by the lift. I was pondering why an ironmonger would be interested in expensive modern jewellery when an apparent heated discussion ensued among the four men. I strained to hear what they were saying, and my attention drifted from my companion.

  Mr Lovell’s back was towards me, but I knew it was Hemming speaking.

  “You know it’s expected. Have your fun and take your pleasure for now, i
f you like, but you will marry your second cousin after her change.” His speech was directed at both boys. An arranged marriage? No, surely not. Did that really still happen? I wished I knew who Mr Lovell had been speaking to, but was afraid of the answer.

  A large gentleman moved and obstructed my view, and a guest nudged my shoulder, squeezing through the crowd.

  “…And that’s why our families are now firm friends,” Bob said.

  Embarrassed that I hadn’t been listening, I nodded politely and excused myself in order to visit the ladies’, where I promptly discovered Lara fixing her lippie.

  “God, not you again. Am I having a nightmare?” she spat at my reflection.

  “It’s no picnic for me, either,” I answered.

  “I suppose I should have known you’d have wheedled an invite.”

  “Pity I can’t say the same,” I said whilst thinking someone could have mentioned it.

  She smirked slyly. “You obviously don’t have your feet as far under the table as you’d like. A real boyfriend wouldn’t keep secrets from you.” She popped her lipstick into her tiny clutch and snapped it shut before whirling around to face me with a self-satisfied grin. “I love that outfit, by the way. You look almost pretty in it. But I think you need to sue your hairdresser.”

  What a bitch. “At least I’m an individual, not a couture clone with zero sense of her own style and a bad attitude,” I said with a huge, fake smile.

  “Connor seems to like the way I look,” she sneered, pushing past me to the exit.

  I eyed her too-tight mini skirt. “What a shocker. I wonder why?” She made to leave, and I snarled, “Careful the door doesn’t bite your huge butt on the way out.”

  That must have been why we’d seen no sign of Connor after leaving him at his Mazda, I thought, calming down a bit after Lara had left. He must have made a detour to pick her up on the way. Why hadn’t Sebastian told me? But I knew the answer. Sebastian knew my feelings when it came to Lara. I couldn’t stand the girl; even thinking about her got my hackles up.

  Back in the main room, I tried to seek out Sebastian, but I was repeatedly cornered by one person after another. Even the waitresses always seemed to be in my face with their bountiful trays of microscopic offerings, and after meeting a wide assortment of Lovell employees and distinguished guests whom I would probably never see again, and whose names I would never remember anyway, I felt slightly claustrophobic. I wanted for nothing in the way of sustenance, but I did need air, so I decided to sneak away to the adjoining gallery for a breather.

  Against a background of piped music, still audible in the vacant room, I drifted around the circumference, appreciating the brightly painted abstracts on every wall. I stopped at a particularly pleasing piece to read the artist’s information printed inside an adjoining glass frame and breathed deeply of the clear air.

  A musky scent wafted into my nostrils, and a familiar feeling warmed my back. Mmm, Sebastian must have been missing me as much as I was him. I instinctively reached behind to pull his body closer. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist, and I snuggled in closer against his chest.

  After I’d finished reading, I glanced down at the hands cradling my stomach and saw a gold ring with the Lovell family crest adorning the little finger of a hand that did not belong to Sebastian. Shocked, I swung around and found myself facing Connor, whose grin I promptly smacked off his face.

  “What did I do?” he protested, but I was already halfway across the room and heading for the exit. “Hey, you started it by grabbing my ass,” he shouted after me.

  I whirled around and strode angrily back towards him. “I thought you were Seb. You smell the same.”

  “Yeah? You wanna take a deeper sniff?” he said softly, taking my waist again and leaning in provocatively closer.

  “Ahem.” The cough came from the doorway, and Connor’s hands immediately fell from my waist.

  “Something I should know about?” Sebastian asked as he approached, closely followed by Lara, who strolled straight up to me and threw her drink at my chest.

  Connor didn’t answer. He simply walked past them, snagged Lara’s arm as he went, and left with his eyes guiltily glued to the floor.

  Sebastian removed a blue silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and lovingly dried the wine splashes from my face.

  “She can be a bit volatile. Sorry.”

  “Oh, really? You don’t say.”

  “Try to be nice to her, for me?” His boyish smile began to melt my icy demeanour. “She doesn’t know you two like I do, and you can understand how she would have felt seeing her date with his arms around you.”

  “It was nothing. I thought he was you.” I reached for his hand, hoping that my probable ruby flush didn’t give me away.

  He smiled. “I understand, and I should have told you Lara was coming.”

  “Yes, you should. You know how much she hates me.”

  “Let’s go back. With all this excitement, you must be ready for another drink. And then we’d better head home. We have an early start in the morning.”

  Thoughts of asking why we would be rising early evaporated as we turned to leave, just in time to witness a dark shape vanishing through the doorway.