Only His (Fool's Gold #6)(60)

“It’s all right,” Cat told her, sniffing delicately. “I’ve thought of trying to paint. I have, in private. It’s just that everything I do is judged so harshly. The critics, the art world. They’re ready to pounce, ready to say I’ve reached my pinnacle and am now in decline. I’m not ready to be finished. I live for my work—I can’t stand the thought of that being taken from me.”

Nevada thought about pointing out that Cat wouldn’t just miss the art. She could continue to work and never let anyone see another piece. But that was silliness. For Cat the art and the fame were one and the same.

“That’s one of the things I love so much about this place,” Cat said with a sigh. “The people are so giving and accepting. They understand that I’m just like them.”

Nevada shook her head. “You’re many things, but you’re not like them.”

Cat smiled. “All right, but I get to be close to everyone else when I’m here. That’s restful. Their support gives me energy.”

She was the center of her own universe, Nevada thought, more amused than annoyed by that fact. When one had been declared a great artist by the age of fourteen, being humble was probably an impossibility.

They turned and walked through the crowd to the Starbucks. Once inside, Cat greeted several people by name. She flirted with the teenager taking her order. Nevada watched him blush and fumble with the cash register.

She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have been born with that much power over men. Sure, some found Nevada attractive and it wasn’t as if she had to wear a bag over her head to avoid frightening small children, but she wasn’t in Cat’s league. Men didn’t trip over themselves in a rush to hold open a door. No rock star had ever dedicated an album to her.

“What would you like?” Cat asked.

Nevada ordered a pumpkin spice latte to celebrate the season. Although, after the cupcakes she’d consumed this weekend, she was going to have to spend the next week being a little careful. All this stress eating was going to make her jeans tight.

Cat got the same. When their order was up, they collected their drinks and went back outside.

There were several small tables on the sidewalk. One was freed up as they approached and they sat across from each other.

The sun was warm. A few leaves fluttered to the ground by them. Cat picked up the largest and set it on the table.

“See the different colors,” she said, smoothing out the leaf. “It’s not just red. Look more closely. There’s scarlet and crimson. Cerise, carmine and vermilion. Nature gives us perfection and we spend our lives trying to come close.”

Nevada could see the different colors but couldn’t have named them. She barely would have noticed the leaf at all, if Cat hadn’t picked it up.

Cat dropped the leaf back on the ground and put her hands around her coffee. “Sometimes I find everything so difficult. Not just the work, but living with these gifts.”

Nevada took a sip and did her best not to roll her eyes.

Cat looked at her, her green eyes stark with pain. “What I have, my talent, for lack of a better word, it separates me from everyone else. I can’t give up my art and live like you do, but the price I pay for that is that there is always a wall between me and everyone else.”

For the second time in about twenty minutes, Nevada felt like scum. It wasn’t pleasant. She’d always been so quick to judge Cat. At times the other woman was comical, but she was also a person.

“I can see where it would be difficult,” she said slowly. “You’re always on display. People want to know you because of your talent and your fame. How can you know when someone is being sincere?”

Cat’s whole face brightened. “Yes. I knew you’d understand. I want more, but I’m afraid of it, too. Of what I’ll have to give up. That if I find love or happiness, the rest of it will be taken from me.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I use that as an excuse. Relationships require effort and I can be lazy. I give everything to my work and when I’m done I want someone taking care of me. I want to be the important one.”

“They say understanding the problem is half the battle.”

Cat laughed. “I think they’re wrong. Because I’m not that interested in changing. I like being spoiled.” Her humor faded. “But sometimes I want more. I want a connection.” She leaned toward Nevada. “I came here because of you.”

Nevada wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. “You mean because I’d talked about my hometown?” She couldn’t remember much of what she and Cat had talked about ten years ago, but it made sense that she would have mentioned Fool’s Gold.

“No.” Cat’s eyes softened. “Although you did talk about it endlessly. I came because I remembered how much I liked you. I thought we had a connection I don’t find with many people.”

Nevada shifted in her seat. She had the oddest sense that this conversation was about to take an unexpected turn.

“We’re friends,” Nevada told her. “I think you need some friends.”

Cat stared at her intently. “We can be friends if you’d like. But I was thinking of something more.”

With that, she moved toward Nevada. Her head tilted and her mouth…

Nevada scrambled to her feet so quickly the chair went skidding across the sidewalk. Disbelief battled with a voice in her head saying she had to have misunderstood—that there was no way Cat had been about to kiss her.