wit. She really wished he would just go away. He was breaking down her defenses and she was starting to….no, she couldn’t say that she liked him. But she accepted that she didn’t hate him anymore.
It was easy to choose paints because she didn’t need to select just one color. It’s easier to choose what colors one wants in a room when one can pick out all the colors that catch her eye. She could picture her den in three different colors and her dining area to be in the same colors, just in more muted shades. Her kitchen was easy since it would be green. What other color should a kitchen be? Her bedroom would be yellow though. A wonderful, soft, buttery yellow and she’d get green or lavender curtains.
While she was giving directions to the paint guy, Gaston was on the phone, just leaning against the counter with an amused, indulgent smile on his handsome face. She didn’t care what he thought, she told herself. It was her space and she’d decorate it exactly how she wanted it to look. She was the one who had to live there.
“Ready to go?” he asked when she was finished giving mixing instructions to the salesperson.
“I just need paint brushes and the other stuff.”
“All taken care of,” he countered, taking her by the hand and leading her out of the hardware store.
“Stop, I need to pay for all the paint,” she said, pulling back on his hand and trying to get hers released.
He shook his head and pulled her forward. “As I said, already taken care of. Let’s go.”
She looked up at him curiously, not sure if she should protest him paying for her paint. He spent more on lunch than she’d spent on her paint, but she was still uncomfortable with him paying for it. In the end, there wasn’t anything she could do about it. He’d already paid and the paint was stored in his trunk by some eager beaver store employee who rushed off as soon as the trunk was closed.
When they arrived back at her apartment, Elana was astounded to see that there was already a crew of painters waiting in her parking lot, their arms filled with the paint paraphernalia that was needed to get the job completed. “What have you done?” she asked, but she already knew the answer. He’d recruited a team of painters to do the task for her.
“I didn’t want to spend the day breathing in paint fumes,” he said and nodded to the painting crew chief who unloaded the paint cans from Gaston’s trunk. “Just go upstairs and show the guys which walls to paint each color and then come back down so we can move on to your next errand.”
She pursed her lips, but followed his instructions. While she discussed the colors, taping the paint sample to each wall, the men were already moving her furniture into the center of the room and covering everything with tarps. It took less than fifteen minutes before she was walking back down the stairs to Gaston who was leaning against his car, his arms crossed over his massive chest as he watched her approach. She couldn’t see his eyes because of the sunglasses that hid them, but she noticed that there was still that smug amusement on his face. “It’s all taken care of,” she said as she stopped in front of him. “Thank you very much for your help. I’ll pay you back for everything,” she said, although where she’d find the money to pay for the painters, she had no idea. She’d have to do it in a payment plan or something. She didn’t completely object because she hated painting, never able to get the lines straight enough to please her. But the men upstairs in her apartment seemed extremely competent. No matter how bad a job they did on her walls, it would still look better than if she were to do it herself.
“Now we get something to eat.”
She shook her head, not wanting to be with him. “I’m not really hungry. But go ahead if you are.”
She still couldn’t see his eyes, but she just knew that he was rolling them. “I know for a fact that you didn’t have any breakfast, Elana, and it’s now time for lunch. Get in the car,” he ordered, but since it was said with a smile, she laughed and got in. She felt too good to argue with him today. Her apartment