Serene (Shattered Book 3) Read online

  Just when I was about to kiss her again, my cell phone rang.

  I cursed aloud. My phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

  “Let me guess, it’s Emery, isn’t it?” Ivy asked.

  I took my phone out of my jacket pocket and smirked. “Who else would it be? She has a secret power to choose the worst moments to make calls.

  Ivy giggled. “Damn true.”

  “Hello?” I said into the handset.

  “Are you going to show up in the clinic, ever again?” My secretary asked angrily.

  “I’m on my way.”

  “No, shit? And here I thought you would never bless this place with a visit again.”

  “Do not exaggerate, Emery. Have I ever forgotten about my duties?”

  “No. But I’m worried about your patients, Dr. Burke. How about I make appointments with my sister your everyday essential?”

  “Great idea, Emery. Thank you very much. Schedule another one for tomorrow afternoon, please.”

  “Oh, dear Lord, help me…” She hung up the phone and I laughed.

  “Starting tomorrow, you and I will have official dates, scheduled by your precious sissy.”

  “What?”

  “It was her idea, but I loved it. She’s a genius, isn’t she?’

  “Wait, I can’t go on dates with you every day. I have work to do and…”

  “And our dates won’t have anything to do with your work or mine. But we will have a lot of fun. I promise you that.”

  “I’m gonna kill Emery.”

  “Don’t do that. I need her. And so do you.”

  Ivy rolled her eyes. “You two are my curse of a lifetime.”

  I wrapped one arm around her and pulled her closer to my chest. Into her ear, I said, “Tomorrow, one o’clock in the afternoon. Be ready for another date with me, Miss Ryan. And I don’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ivy

  I looked up and saw a stranger’s hazel eyes staring back at me. They were so beautiful, I almost forgot how to breathe. Something about them looked familiar. The intensity they graced me with – it went right through me, awakening the sensations that made the blood run faster through my body.

  The feeling of déjà vu was really hard to ignore. I could swear I had seen those eyes before, magnificent in many different ways. No doubt, they could change their color depending on what the man was wearing or the type of lighting surrounding him.

  How was it possible that I couldn’t remember the man standing in front of me? It felt like he possessed the power I never knew existed – a power so strong, it wouldn’t let me move and look away. He kept me hypnotized, spellbound.

  I didn’t see anything but his eyes, showing the reflections of my own green pools.

  Next thing I knew, he was touching my chin with his fingertips, bringing my lips closer to his. No words proceeded or followed his touch, just a kiss… One slow-burn, sensual kiss.

  I woke up with my heart beating wildly beneath my skin. The dream seemed to be so real. I couldn’t remember the last time I dreamed of something so real, yet too good to be true. I took a deep breath and reached for the lamp standing on my bedside table. Even though I couldn’t see the light it produced, I still turned it on, and sat up on my bed. Touching my forehead, I breathed a sigh of relief, the fever that had been torturing me for almost four days was gone and I felt much better. Stupid flu wouldn’t let me out for a whole week, ruining on the way all Dr. Burke’s plans on taking me out for another date. Not that it stopped him from visiting me every day, sometimes twice a day. He brought fruits, food and did everything a mother would do to lessen her sick baby’s suffering. Every time he called me, he sounded worried and even offered staying at my place and sleeping on a couch in the living room so he could check on my condition at night. But despite how tempting having him in my apartment at night seemed, I refused to accept his offer. Instead, I made sure Emery’s phone number was still on my speed dial, asked her to buy me more Theraflu and wished myself good luck. I rarely caught a cold, but when it happened, I knew I would stay tied to the bed for another seven days or so.

  That’s why now, with my temperature being normal again, I felt like I won the lottery.

  My body tingled from my head to my toes, though I was sure it had nothing to do with the flu. There were so many thoughts in my head, but none of them seemed to be important enough to eclipse the excitement I could so clearly feel splashing all over me.

  I suddenly wanted to go to my workroom, take canvas and paints and draw the eyes I was dying to see again. I took a robe lying on the edge of my bed, put it over my pajamas and went to the room adjacent to my bedroom. Emery called it my ‘cellar’, considering I never had enough time or desire to clean it and put everything where it belonged. Creative chaos had never been a problem for me. Unlike anyone else who entered my workroom, I knew exactly where my paints and other working tools were. I didn’t need help with finding them. All I needed in most cases were a few hours of peace and quiet to do my drawing job.

  I went to the easel, thinking about the colors I would need for my painting. I didn’t want this new picture to be abstract. The eyes of liquid gold and wood deserved something special…

  Well, of course! I will paint them on glass.

  I always loved drawing on glass. It was one of my favorite kinds of drawing.

  I went to one of the drawers where I kept glass sheets and took one of them.

  Setting it on the easel, I took a tube with a transparent contour to draw the sketch of my future picture.

  My hands were shaking… Why? Because somehow, I was afraid to fail, for my hands to not be able to meet the expectations of my imagination. I’d never been so nervous when drawing. I never felt like I wasn’t talented enough to transfer my thoughts on paper or glass.

  Though right now, every inch of me was desperate to see what I was drawing. In moments like this, imagination was not even close to enough. I wanted to see the eyes I was drawing, I needed to see them.

  Hues of green, a little bit of blue, gold and amber… Where did that stunning eye color come from?

  Stroke by stroke, the brush in my hand created the picture I saw in my dream. Did it look good? How close was it to the one that my dream showed me?

  For a moment I thought like calling Emery, desperate for someone to come and tell me if what I wanted to be a masterpiece was even close to it. Then I remembered it was the middle of the night and changed my mind. Despite how much my sister loved me, she hated it when I woke her up with nothing really important to tell her. Though right here and now, my drawing felt like the most important thing in the world.

  The sound of Stanley’s voice rang in my head. He once said that his eyes were hazel. Is that why I started dreaming of someone with the same eye color? What if it was my inner desire to see him for real that made those images of a stranger with hazel eyes appear in my dream? What would he say if he saw my glass picture?

  All of a sudden, I became afraid he wouldn’t like it. Why did his opinion mean so much to me? I never draw anything just to impress someone. But Stanley… He was the man I wanted to impress, it was foolish to deny it. Of all the men I met in my life, he was the first one I was so scared to disappoint.

  Why? Why? Why?

  Who knew the answer to that question?

  Back then, I thought I was too shattered to let myself accept the truth that my heart already knew. Then again, it was the very thing that helped me find the courage to face what was inevitable…

  When the painting was done, I thought it needed some time to dry, so I left it on the easel, washed my hands and put the paints back into the box.

  Sitting on a chair in my workroom, I wondered if I could start drawing concrete pictures again, with forms and lines that were not blurred. I made a mental note to google techniques I needed to learn how to use. I once heard about a blind guy whose pictures were so beautiful they sold like those created by famous painters. I never gave it too much
thought. I was okay with abstract. Until tonight…

  ***

  My morning started with a call to Emery. It was almost five in the morning when I left my workroom and went back to bed, hoping to get some more sleep and maybe see my mysterious stranger again. The warmth that I felt when drawing his eyes still filled me up from within, almost as if I were sitting in front of a fireplace, with its flames singing lullabies. I always loved watching the fire burning in a fireplace, with the sparks of gold prowling to the wood, blackening it and then exploding like fireworks with millions of shades fading away and changing so fast, no eye would ever be able to catch it.

  True they say – magic is everywhere. All you need to do it is to want to see it.

  My sister’s sleepy voice brought me back to here and now.

  “Hello?” She mumbled into the handset.

  “What plans do you have for today?” I asked instead of greeting her.

  “No plans. Why?”

  “I drew something… Wanna see it?”

  Silence was the answer to my question. Then Emery said, “It’s eight in the morning. When on earth did you manage to draw a picture if last time we talked, which was last night, there was no mention of a new picture?”

  “I had a dream, then I woke up and felt like drawing. It was like…four hours ago.”

  “Are you feeling okay, Ivy? I mean we all know how much you love drawing, but waking up in the middle of the night to draw a picture that you can’t even see… Seriously?”

  I smiled. “Shut up, smartass. Inspiration hit me. I couldn’t ignore it.”

  “Okay. I still don’t get it, but it’s okay.” She yawned. “So you want me to have a look at your new picture?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I tried to draw something different this time. I mean it’s not abstract. At least I think it’s not. Like you said – I can’t see it. This is exactly why I need you to come here and tell me what you think about it.”

  “Can I at least do it after I have breakfast?”

  “You can have breakfast here. I’m sure Mike can feed the kids on his own.”

  “No way!” I heard Mike protest.

  Obviously he could hear what I was saying into the phone, so I said, “Please, I need Emery’s opinion. And I need it now.” I paused, thinking of what could make him change his mind and let Emery come to see my glass picture. “I’ll buy you a whole box of caramel doughnuts with chocolate topping, I promise!”

  “Deal!” Mike responded.

  “Hey, this is not fair!” Emery said. “You never buy me anything to get on my good side.”

  “Do you want a doughnut too?”

  “No. I want that Prada purse I told you about last night.”

  “Consider it yours. Just get your ass over here!”

  “You are kidding, right?”

  “Nope.”

  After a two-second pause, Emery said, “I’m on my way.”

  I chuckled and hung up the phone.

  By the time Emery arrived, I had taken a shower, made breakfast and called our parents to tell them that I felt much better. Mom and Dad still didn’t approve of my decision to live in my old apartment, all alone, instead of moving back in their place. Even two years after the accident, they still thought that I needed someone to help me around the apartment, not to mention my trips around the city.

  “I’m so glad to hear that you are feeling better, my girl,” Mom said into the phone. “Your father and I are going to Nashville next week, to visit your aunt Evelin. Would you like to come with us?”

  “Um, no, thanks. You know how much I hate her dramatic comments about my condition.” The woman obviously thought that blind people were the most miserable people in the world. She even asked if I needed help to brush my teeth.

  “She loves you, Ivy and she’s worried about you. We all are…”

  “Mom, please, we’ve been there before. Many times actually.”

  “What if you get sick and can’t find your phone to call 911?”

  I rolled my eyes, mentally telling myself to calm down. Fortunately, Emery showed up just in time to save me from more of mom’s ‘worried’ speeches. I told her I loved her and ended the call.

  “Was it mom?” Emery asked, as she placed something rusty on my kitchen table.

  “Yep. What’s that?” I asked, tapping the thing.

  “Have no idea. Stanley told me to give it to you.”

  It turned out to be an envelope. “And you didn’t open it?”

  “I don’t have a slightest desire to know the details of your dirty stories.”

  Giggling, I opened the envelope. “There are no dirty stories happening in my life and you know it.”

  “No, shit? Is that why my boss can’t seem to be able to stop talking about you?”

  “So you talk about me behind my back?”

  “He talks. I listen. Mostly.”

  I took a piece of folded paper out of the envelope and ran my palm across its surface.

  “Is it written in Braille?” Emery asked. From the sound of her voice, I could tell that she was standing behind me now, obviously trying to see what was written in the note.

  “I thought you didn’t want to know the details of my dirty stories.”

  “I wouldn’t be able to read it anyway. But look at Dr. Burke, he will soon use Braille to make records in his clients’ medical histories.”

  “One thing that you want so bad...” Said the note. “I’ll give it to you.”

  “What does it say?”

  I smiled. “Not gonna tell you.”

  Emery laughed. “Is it that dirty?”

  “You will never know.”

  “Ugh, whatever, really. I’m here to get my Prada purse… I mean to see your new picture, so let’s go see it. And Mike said he wants his doughnuts by lunch.”

  “You guys are impossible.”

  “That’s what put the two of us in a marriage.”

  I put the note back into the envelope and went to my workroom, making a mental note to text Stanley about ‘one thing that I wanted so bad’. I wondered if he and I were thinking about the same ‘one thing’. Because for some shameless reason, he was the only thing I wanted so bad at the moment.

  “So? What do you think?” I asked my sister about the newly created picture, knowing that she was standing in front of it.

  She stayed quiet.

  “Oh, no… Just don’t tell me it’s terrible,” I said, sitting on a chair standing next to the easel.

  “No, it’s… Amazing,” she said, genuinely stunned. “Do you know this guy from the picture?”

  “No. I saw his face in my dream.”

  My sister didn’t say anything to that.

  “Emery? What is it? You are acting weird.”

  “I didn’t know you could draw portraits. I mean, you did it before, but…”

  “I haven’t painted anything concrete since the accident.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “I love it. Really. And just look at those eyes… The idea to draw the portrait on glass was brilliant. If you turn it to the light, the eyes begin to change their color, as if illuminated from the inside.”

  I smiled, self-satisfied. I didn’t fail. I didn’t fail…

  “You can take it and hang it on the wall in your living room,” I said to Emery. “I can’t see it anyway.”

  “No,” she protested. “Keep it. It’s beautiful.” Again, I heard something weird in the tone of her voice. As if there was something I didn’t know, but she did.

  “What’s wrong with you today?” I asked.

  “Nothing… It’s just… The portrait. It reminded me of the Ivy I knew two years ago.”

  I sighed. “I don’t miss her, you know? I like the new me. Do you think it’s wrong? I mean most people think I hate my blindness. But it helped me understand and ‘see’ a lot of things that I never noticed before. It helped me see myself from a differ
ent point of view.”

  Emery walked up to me, stopped behind my chair and wrapped her arms around me, saying, “I loved the old you, I love the new you and nothing will ever stop me from loving my little sister.” She kissed my cheek and added, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have my promised breakfast. I’m starving.”

  “Okay, let’s go.” I stood up and walked out of the room, following Emery back to the kitchen.

  “Looks like you feel much better today,” she said, sipping her freshly-brewed coffee.

  “I do. My week has been hell on earth.”

  “Just don’t tell me Stanley’s visits didn’t make it any better.”

  “How do you know about his visits?”

  “I’m making his schedule, remember?”

  “Right.”

  “So… Is there anything I should be worried about?” Emery put her cup on a saucer and waited for my response.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have you slept with him?”

  “Are you nuts? Of course, not! Besides, I don’t think Stanley is a man who enjoys sleeping with a half-dead woman – which is exactly how I’ve been feeling up until this morning.”

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  “It doesn’t mean I want to sleep with him.” Not that the idea never crossed my mind…

  Emery spoke again. “I haven’t seen you like this for a long time. You look happy.”

  “I feel happy. It’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “Well, it is a good thing. I know you’ve been avoiding men and dating and everything that would put you and a nice guy in one sentence or in one bed. But I think it’s time to move on, sis. Give it a try. Enjoy it. And stop looking back. It won’t do you any good. Besides, I think Stanley is just the right guy to practice your long-forgotten seductive skills on. If you need more information about him, just give me a call.”

  Laughing, I said, “Thanks for the advice. I think I will follow it.”

  Emery and I have always been close, talking to her about something personal had never been a problem. After the accident, we became even closer, considering she was the only person allowed to stay with me day and night, watch my failures and give me a hand when I needed it. She wasn’t just a sister to me, at times she treated me like a daughter, which I hated a lot. But in most cases, she was a friend anyone would wish for.