Chapter 10

Lavender was my favorite color, and my bedroom walls were getting the full treatment today as I painted on the light purple hue. The house was really looking like a home now. I'd been painting all morning with colors ranging from a soft mint green in the kitchen, to a robin's egg blue in the bathroom.

The living room had been painted nimbus cloud gray with white trim earlier this week. The gray color on the walls matched Portland's sky pretty well. I hadn't seen the sunshine since I'd moved here. Clouds were becoming my new normal.

The gray walls matched the light blue and gray plush carpeting and the stone that was mixed in with the red bricks in the fireplace. The blue in the carpet was the perfect shade to compliment my persian blue couch and matching armchairs that set in the center of the room across from the fireplace. Persian blue drapes hung on either side of the picture window in front and on the two windows in the back, spreading the color around. Overall, I'd kept the decor clean, yet modern, with a dash of homey comfort for good measure. It was a winning combination.

In front of the couch was a mission oak coffee table with the same dark finish as my cuckoo clock. It had a matching end table positioned between the couch and one of the chairs. A silver lamp with a gray shade stood on top. The white ceiling had an overhead lighting system that could be adjusted with a remote or the light switch by the front door, which was a bit gadgety, but I appreciated the convenience of mood lighting at my fingertips.

There was a large bookshelf with the same dark finish on the wall near the entryway to the kitchen. My books were meticulously organized, and a few pictures of friends and family were placed between the bookends. A second large bookshelf stood along the far wall behind the couch, which was next to where I'd mounted my cuckoo clock. It held the rest of my books along with my collection of CDs and DVDs. My stereo set on the center shelf with Bose speakers on either side. The speakers were pricey, but the sound quality was amazing and worth every penny.

A dark oak entertainment center, which angled off to the right of the couch, held a larger TV than I needed. It was the brand that Jack had pined over. Oh, he'd spit nails if he knew I'd recently purchased it. I was half-tempted to send him a cell phone picture along with an emoticon of a smiley sticking his tongue out. But no, I'd keep my Karma intact.

Below my TV was a Blu-ray player and my DVR. I loved my DVR and couldn't live without it. I didn't watch as much television as I'd used to, but I recorded everything and watched it later. My favorite show was Jeopardy, which I never missed an episode of. Thank goodness I didn't have to share my DVR space anymore. I added that joy to my 'Why Living Alone is Awesome' list.

The only piece of art I had up so far was my print of Josh Gilbert's Gray Guitar. It was inspired by Picasso's The Old Guitarist, as well as the lyrics of Counting Crows' 'Mr. Jones.' Music and art combined together was a match made in heaven. I'd fallen in love with it, and the colors worked well in the living room, with the red accentuating the red brick in the fireplace, pulling it all together. I had a few other pieces, but I'd have to put them up later.

The living room flowed into the dining room area which was divided only by where the carpeting ended and the dark maple floors began. The floors matched the dark wood of the oak in the dining room table and the matching hutch. I loved dark wood; it was warm and rich, and it looked really good with the gray. The only light wood I had on display was my Louisville Slugger bat, which was mounted near the hallway leading to my bedroom. It was my small reminder of home.

There was a second floor, a finished basement, and an attached garage I hadn't touched yet. Needless to say, I had plenty of space here. Perhaps too much space for one person.

My cell phone rang while I was applying the white paint on one of the bedroom baseboards, startling me out of my skin. My hand slipped up the wall, trailing white paint along with it. I scowled and went over to the phone, pressing the speaker phone button with the edge of my finger that had the least amount of paint on it.

"Hello?" I sweetly answered, trying to hide my annoyance.

"Hey, Renée!" Monroe's voice echoed in my bedroom. "So, did you get the clock mounted?" he asked.

My annoyance faded immediately. "Yes, last night," I replied cheerfully, while trying to fix my wall. "It's ticking away as we speak." It was the first night in Portland that I'd slept to the familiar sounds of the cuckoo. It lulled me to sleep and I felt almost normal again.

"So... I have the 411 on the symphony," Monroe began, sounding excited. "It's this Saturday evening at seven-thirty. You, uh, still wanna go, right?" His excitement was replaced by worry creeping up in his voice.

"Yes, I definitely want to go." Ever since he'd mentioned it I could think of nothing else. Jack wouldn't have been caught dead at a symphony. If the attire didn't include a baseball cap, he wasn't interested.

"Great! You wanna grab dinner beforehand?" he asked. "You could meet me here and we could take one car. Or... I could just pick you up and make it easier." His voice went deeper on that last sentence.

It was obviously bugging him that I wouldn't tell him where I lived. I wanted to, but my mind kept going back to that Blutbad in the mall when I was with Chloe. That evil face was all I could think about and I shook my head, trying to erase the image from my mind.

"Dinner sounds like a great idea," I replied warmly, discarding my thoughts. "I'll meet you at your place so we can carpool." That was a good compromise. Perhaps he wouldn't press the issue on coming here that way.

"Renée, you know you trusted me to take you to your hotel. I can pick you up at your place." He had an authority to his voice that I hadn't heard from him before. "Like I said, it'll be easier."

"Umm," I stammered a moment. He had a point. He had been an absolute gentleman when I was in a vulnerable position that night at the Blue Moon Bar. But if I had known he was a Blutbad back then, I wouldn't have even talked to him. Oh, I was so torn.

"You still there?" he asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'm here." If he wanted to know where I lived, he could just Google me. No one was completely hiden anymore, anyway. "Okay, pick me up at my place." My stomach still flipped as the words came out. I gave him the address.

"Great! I'll stop by around five o'clock." His smile permeated through the phone "That should give us plenty of time to dine and then make the concert." He had my address and he had won.

"Can't wait!" I made my voice sound as sweet as possible, even though I was close to being ill.

"See ya then," he replied and hung up.

Oh my. He was coming here. What was I thinking? But he had a way of convincing me to do things I normally wouldn't.

"Hero or villain?" I asked aloud. There was no sense worrying about that question now. Right now I had a date this weekend. Well, Monroe hadn't called it a date, but it was as close to a date as I'd had in years.

"There's a wolf at your door,
He says he's playing for keeps..."

I hummed to myself as I went back to painting the bedroom.

A/N: My profile has a link to a photo of Josh Gilbert's Gray Guitar. It's awesome, go have a look-see!