The Beckoning of Beautiful Things (The Beckoning Series) Read Online Free Page B

made her way to the front door. When she opened it, a pleasant looking gentleman in his mid-50s wearing a crisp black suit greeted her warmly.
    “Ms. Engles?” he said, extending a bouquet of sweet peas and irises in her direction. “I’m Javier. These are from Daniel. He picked them for you this afternoon.”
    She took the proffered flowers and buried her nose in the cool, papery blossoms. “Mmm. They’re lovely. Won’t you step in for a moment while I put these in a vase?”
    “No, thank you, I’ll wait here.” He glanced at her dog.
    Marissa tracked his gaze. “He won’t hurt you. I have to crate him anyway.”
    “Thank you, but I’ll wait here. Boss’s instructions.” He folded his hands and smiled at her.
    When the flowers were put away and the dog crated, she stepped out into the cool evening and followed Javier to the car. As he reached for the door, Marissa asked, “Mercedes-Benz S-Class?”
    “Why, yes, it is.”
    “I just did an ad for one in the Seattle’s Finest magazine.”
    “I see,” he replied, holding the door open for her. “Please,” he said, nodding towards the Barolo Red car.
    The car was so clean it looked brand new. She ran a hand along the polished surface. It was like touching cool silk. Mom and Dad would have driven something like this . That life of opulence and joy was behind her, buried in the distant past. Way outside my comfort zone, she mused. She’d never picked anyone as compelling as Daniel. She swallowed back her resistance and settled in the plush, off-white, richly-grained leather backseat and waited.
    Javier closed the door behind her, committing her to the date.
    After Javier got in the driver’s seat and started the engine, she said, “I do ad layout. I’m an ad specialist and graphic designer.”
    “I see,” Javier replied.
    “I’m pretty good at it.”
    His eyes regarded hers for a moment in the rear-view mirror, and he nodded.
    “I studied graphic arts in college,” she continued. “I’m an artist.”
    “Very good.”
    “Did you have to train for your job?” she blurted. Seeing his frown, she corrected herself. “I’m sorry, that was nosy. I’m just nervous, that’s all.”
    He seemed to warm toward her, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t be. Mr. Navid is a very kind man.”
    He pronounced the last name as Na-veed, in crisp, measured tones. “I see,” she replied, repeating his earlier response. “Or I hope I will see.”
    “You will. He’s been preparing all afternoon for you. Ever since he arrived from his errands.”
    A thrill shot up her spine. All afternoon? He’s been preparing all afternoon? A wide grin split her face. Javier regarded her in the rear-view, nodded once, and then fell silent the rest of the way.
    As they wove through the streets of West Seattle, they headed toward the prime real estate section of West Seattle – the waterfront. They turned off of SW Juneau and wound their way up a curvy road called Pacific Place. Off of Pacific, Javier turned right up a private driveway flanked by two stone lions. He guided the Mercedes up the tree-lined road. Marissa’s eyes widened. Bronze sculptures of voluptuous women frolicked in the trees. Their large, curvaceous bodies peeked out from behind stands of conifers. They cavorted among colorful blossoms bursting from r hododendron and azaleas. They smiled, threw their heads back, and laughed. They danced, completely naked or scantily clothed. Marissa could almost hear the lively songs they danced to. They beckoned to her to get free and join them. Instead, Marissa shrunk into her seat, suddenly feeling very small, homely, and insecure.
    Javier’s eyes met hers in the rear-view. “Mr. Navid is a collector of beautiful things. He likes to surround himself with reminders of joy and beauty.”
    Marissa’s head inclined in response.
    “Do you like the statues?”
    She coaxed her voice from her lungs and croaked, “Yes, they’re very beautiful.”
    Javier’s eyes