Work of Art

Chapter 41

Nick pulled her jacket tighter around her frame, fighting the chill that the wind carried.

She was shivering, not just from the bitter winter air, but also from nerves.

She had been anticipating today for the past few weeks. An excitement struck her each time she thought about where she was now.

Removing one hand that was pulling her jacket tight, she reached out to pull open the door.

She was immediately hit by the warmth and the aroma of coffee. The delicious smell settled her nerves a little, but not much.

It was eleven in the morning on a Saturday, so the little Forks coffee shop was quite packed, making it difficult to spot her target.

Nick swiveled her head around, checking all sides of the room as she suddenly felt her chest tighten. On instinct, she turned to the corner of the little shop where she saw his blond hair.

She took a deep breath to collect herself then began to walk over. As she approached, the doctor looked up to greet her with a smile.

Carlisle had noticed her much longer before this acknowledgment of her presence. He felt her as soon as she stepped through the front door, a gust of wind catching her hair and carrying her scent all the way to the back corner of the café where it sat. It smelled a million times better than any of the other aromas that filled the space. As badly as he wanted to stare, he waited until she was close to him to look up.

"Good morning," her sweet voice told him. He could hear the nerves behind it. He couldn't help but think how cute it was that she was nervous.

He watched as she pulled out the chair that was across from him and then sat down, her posture stiff. She crossed one leg over the other as she reached into her tote bag. As she pulled out her sketchbook, Carlisle found himself mimicking her posture subconsciously. He was there, sitting legs crossed and hands clasped, as Nick looked back up.

"Good morning," he told the younger girl with a smile.

Nick smiled back then looked down at the table, unable to hold eye contact in fear of her face turning red.

Nick flipped open her sketchbook to an empty page and laid it on the table. She was about to speak when Carlisle cut in first.

"Before we start, can I get you anything?"

"Oh," Nick looked at him in surprise. "I was going to get a drink, but I can buy it.

"It's my treat," Carlisle replied, brushing her offer to pay off. "What do you want?"

"A hot chai latte if you're sure..." Nick trailed off the last word.

"I'm sure," Carlisle said with a grin as he stood. "I'll be right back."

The doctor stood and walked away from the table and up to the front counter.

For the first minute or so he was gone, she sat stiffly, staring at the spot where he had been sitting, unable to make herself move. Her nerves were getting the better of her and she needed to relax. This was a purely professional meeting to discuss what Dr. Cullen would like painted, she reminded herself. Nothing more.

She grabbed a pencil from her bag and decided she would sketch a bit to try and calm her nerves.

The corner table that Carlisle had chosen was right next to a window. So, Nick admired the scenery and began to jot it out on the paper.

She always liked to start with a rough perspective sketch that mapped out where everything would go. Once she ensured she had the composition she wanted, she would start to go in with more definite forms and lines.