Chapter 8: Saturday Sun

Rainy’s POV

My feet are throbbing. I am exhausted as I run a hot bath after the show and wait for Cass to get home. I don't have her stamina. I don't know how she works these crazy hours.

I have always been a night owl, given that the darkness has always been a place where I have found inspiration and bright hints of shining light. The night sky is filled with thousands of stars. Hence the metallic bits are always featured prominently in my haunting pieces.

I have always enjoyed music that makes me think of gothic mansions, tarot cards, and coffins filled with vampires waiting to start their "day" of hunting and feeding.

I wonder if she will party with everyone after the show. I wonder if Brett will be staying behind for the after-party.

Maybe I should have stayed. But I wanted to come home and get some painting done, and night-time is when I feel inspired.

I feel sexy as I slip off my clothes and let my black satin dress fall to the floor and slide into the hot bubbly clawfoot tub.

I let my thoughts drift toward Bron Ambrose and his silky black hair. It looks so soft. I want to grab handfuls of it.

I am really surprised that he is interested in taking me out. Little old me. I playfully move my leg around under the faucet, letting the water splash onto the floor carelessly.

I guess I am not too shabby after all.

I lounge in the warm water, inhaling the minty, eucalyptus steam deeply. Our new bathroom feels like a spa with its clean shiny fixtures and countertops.

My eyes graze over the rolled-up, pristine fluffy white towels on the glass shelves with brass fixtures that line the rose gold walls with their rich, modern geometric wallpaper.

I could not feel more blessed.

It’s exciting to be desired by such a sexy man.

***

I wake up as warm sunlight beams through my window onto my cheek. I have a feeling that this is going to be a great morning.

I put on my fuzzy pink slippers and soft luxurious housecoat over my pink satin nightgown. I am starting to feel fancier by the day.

I walk into the sunny yellow kitchen with its bright happy feel. I choose my teacup carefully, wanting to indulge my feelings of elegance and fanciness.

I take the most delicate-looking porcelain cup with a maroon rose painted on the side from the row of jauntily dangling teacups hanging under the cupboard as the steel kettle whistles from the vintage 50s pink stovetop

This is my dream kitchen. I love its soft buttery yellow cabinets paired with the pink vintage stove and fridge. “Admiral Electric” scrolled across the front of the fridge in three-dimensional silver metallic. Our place feels like a movie set.

I walk across the old Hollywood-style black and white checkered floor and sit at the kitchen table feeling like I’m Ginger Rogers with hair piled up in a sexy, messy bun.

Over an earl grey tea with honey, my thoughts drift back to The Rooftop, Bron, and Brett. I still can’t believe how lovely that place is with its grand sweeping views of the city below. It is such a magical place.

Brett seems so brilliant, confident, well-spoken, and elegant in his body language on stage.

Wishful thinking, but I really could swear his eyes locked onto mine like we were two long-lost puzzle pieces meant to fit together.

I think about how it’s not my inclination to reach out to people and I decide this is the day to do so. I am going to use that little card Bron gave me and call him. Or maybe I should just email?

Or does that seem odd, I ask myself.

I might as well ask Bron to help me walk the dogs and see if I can get to know him. It seems like messaging Brett and expecting a reply from a busy billionaire is just a fantasy. Stupid, really.

Nothing feels odd anymore in this city.

Deciding whether or not to email Bron, I still feel very much like the new girl in town.

I am way too shy to call and ask him out, but maybe this way, I can kind of hide behind my computer a little bit as I did with Brett.

Maybe we can make it a casual friendly hangout and I can figure out what Bron’s intentions are. That would be great. I am doing it.

I walk into the den with its bookshelf-lined walls, letting my fingers caress the spines of ancient books bound in cloth and leather. Sylvia owns some interesting items. It is amazing of her to let us live here in her old apartment.

I am falling in love with Castleberg. Now, let’s see if I will ever fall in love in Castleberg. “Quit focussing on that,” I scold myself. “All you really need is friends.”

I know that I have Cass, but I have known her practically my entire life. Besides, she is very busy with her new position at the bar, and I really do want to meet some new people.

Maybe Cass and I should throw a little dinner party next weekend. Be a little dangerous and invite some people we barely know. I’m feeling adventurous today, which is quite unlike me.

I remind myself to ask her about it when she wakes up. I am sure she will be up for it. I don’t like to brag, but I can make almost any dish. I watch Dining Network all the time.

Steel Chef is one of my favorite shows. I love how the Japanese Chef shouts at the beginning of the show, startling everyone into action. “Et La Cuisine!”

I hesitate slightly, before walking up the big, ornate mahogany desk to flip open my laptop.

I guess it is time for me to leap into.