The Charmer (Redeeming a bad boy Book 4) by Nicola Marsh

The Charmer (Redeeming a bad boy Book 4) by Nicola Marsh

Author:Nicola Marsh [Marsh, Nicola]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Parlance Press
Published: 2024-08-05T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Twenty-Two

Ariel flitted around the studio, lighting lime and tangerine candles, plumping the sequinned purple cushions on the ruby sofas, and tidying up the evidence of her nerves.

She’d drunk a dozen cups of chamomile tea since calling Cooper this morning to let him know today was as good a time as any to hear his pitch. But now, as she stacked the cups in the dishwasher and made her umpteenth visit to the toilet, she wondered if she’d done the right thing.

‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer’ had been one of Barb’s favourite sayings so Ariel had taken the plunge and called him, despite her stomach still churning since their almost-kiss last night.

If she’d had her way, she would’ve never laid eyes on Cooper again but they’d made a deal; he’d upheld his end of the bargain and now it was her turn.

Glancing around the studio, her heart swelled with pride. Sunlight streamed through the soaring windows, filtering through the colourful gauze swaths of chiffon she’d hung from curtain hooks, casting a warm, rainbow over the room. Combined with the refreshing tang of citrus from the aromatherapy candles, and the bright ruby and amethyst colour combination of the furniture against the polished oak boards, the place looked inviting: warm, welcoming, a haven.

Her haven. It had been from the minute she set foot in this room, a scared and starving eight year old who thought she’d stepped into a fairytale treasure cave. The colours had bewitched her, the cosiness had beckoned, and Barb had set her up with an easel and paints like she belonged here.

Thanks to Aunt Barb, that feeling hadn’t waned over the years. If anything, it had intensified, to the point she couldn’t see herself living and working anywhere else. Colour by Dreams had made all hers come true.

It meant everything to her.

She wanted Cooper to view the studio how she saw it, to feel its ambience, to recognise how much it meant to her.

This wasn’t just about her fervent promise to Aunt Barb. This was her home, the only home she’d ever known, and she would fight with everything she had to hold onto it.

The wind chimes over the gallery front door tinkled and Ariel took a deep breath, wondering what made her more nervous: rejecting Cooper’s pitch or seeing him so soon after he’d almost made her swoon like the women whose vintage clothes she favoured.

“Ariel?”

“Be right there,” she called out, casting one last frantic gaze around the studio and wondering if it was too late to wear her lucky garland.

Though it would clash terribly with her flowing, floral dress cinched at the waist with a crocheted macramé belt, and pink flip-flops. Not that she usually cared, revelling in combining colours, patterns, fabrics, and shoes with creative abandon, but she’d told Cooper about the garland’s significance and didn’t want him prying further.

Crossing her fingers behind her back that after hearing Cooper’s pitch she wouldn’t want to tear his eyes out, she pushed through the beaded curtain.



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