Today I had coffee with Ricco at the coffee shop next door to the gallery. I was shocked when I arrived early to discover that the gorgeous brunette I’d seen with Mark at the restaurant is Ava, the woman who owns the place. Not only that, she wasn’t rude or snotty at all this time. She’s probably closer to Mark’s age than mine, and carries herself almost regally, maybe too much so—like it’s a way to hide what she doesn’t want seen. She seemed to want to build a friendship, but I couldn’t quite feel right about it with the conflicting impressions I’ve had of her. She laughed and joked with me, and asked me how I was handling Mark being so controlling. I wondered if she was trying to get me to say something she’d then repeat to Mark. That’s so cynical of me, but it’s what popped into my head and I never say anything I don’t want repeated. She even whispered a warning about how temperamental Ricco can be. (But I’d heard the same from Ralph and Amanda.)
She did enough talking for both of us, and it turns out she’s known Mark and Ricco for years and they are all friends, though I’m not sure how this many gorgeous people are ever just friends. Some people would say that is small-minded of me, but it is what it is. I was surprised that I liked Ava. I’m not sure what to make of her. I’m going to be cautious with her, that’s for sure.
I didn’t say much about Mark or Ricco to her. I don’t even share things with the people I know well. There were too many years of my mother working double shifts at the hotel she managed, warning me not to talk to strangers while she was gone. Not to tell people whom I knew things that they could let slip to someone else, who would know I was alone. She was so crazily insistent that I learned to write stuff down. It’s better that way, I’ve found. I’m the only one judging me or influencing my own thoughts. I think most people let others decide who and what they are too much.
As for Ricco, he was amazing to me, and I saw nothing that screamed of his reputation for being temperamental. I warmed to him immediately, just as I had at his party. He’s one of the few people I’ve ever felt this comfortable with this quickly. He has this protective vibe about him that I found surprisingly appealing. Maybe it’s because he’s a good fifteen years older than me and almost fatherly, though he’s far too sexy a man for me to ever think of that way, and I feel no deep, burning need for a father figure. I don’t need or want to be taken care of. He tugs on some deep part of me, though. Really, he and Mark both do, but for different reasons. With Mark, I think it’s all about raw power and just plain lust. With Ricco, maybe there’s friendship? I just don’t know.
We were about to leave when I saw Ava talking to a man at the counter dressed in Harley boots, jeans, and a leather jacket. The look on her face said she was in lust. I sure hope I’m not that obvious when I look at Mark. Then the man turned around and I took in the sweeping whole picture he made, including collar-length mussed-up blond hair that screamed “wild and wicked rock star delicious,” and I could see why she was looking at him that way. Ricco followed my attention, and the two men waved at each other.
Then the next thing I knew, I was meeting the “rock star,” who was the incredibly famous Chris Merit. The man’s art sells for scary, wonderfully big price tags. As for the wild part I’d assumed, he didn’t come off that way. He was all business, about to head to a meeting with Mark, and Chris wanted to confirm that Ricco was still donating a painting to the next Riptide auction for a children’s cancer charity he supports. Despite the two being cordial, I didn’t get the impression Chris and Ricco were all that fond of each other. I think Ricco has a problem connecting with most people, but I think he’s just artistic and misunderstood. I’m going to his private studio this weekend to preview the work he’s willing to let me show to special customers, and I’m beyond thrilled.