Getting Lei'd by Ann Omasta Read Free Book Online Page A

doesn’t mean anything. It’s a beautiful spot, after all. It practically begs to be recreated on canvas. The fact that my paintbrush decided to add the vague form of a man slicing through the water does not mean it is Kai. It could be anyone. I had intended for the piece to be a traditional landscape, but it had seemed incomplete until I added the person.
    I stand back to admire my work. The man makes the painting come alive. He makes the entire scene more real—less perfect, yet somehow more perfect at the same time. I’m happy with the final product—really happy with it, and that rarely happens. I almost always feel like my work is missing something, but this time I nailed it.
    I have never before painted from memory. The lack of clarity into each leaf and cloud forced me to use a little more impressionism than I normally would have. As I worked on it, I closed my eyes to imagine the scene, then I let my brain and hand work together to do justice to the setting. The resulting artwork is much more stunning than any of the previous pictures I have painted.
    This painting captures perfectly the scene I stumbled upon this morning, and I’m certain I could sell it at a gallery. Well, if I could part with it, of course, but I don’t think I can. I want to remember this amazing locale and the terrific feeling of being here long after I return home. I will find the perfect spot to hang it in my condo.
    The knock at our door startles me out of my reverie. I can’t imagine who it could be. Baggy and Ruthie have keys to get in. I had put out the do not disturb sign in hopes that housekeeping would just leave fresh towels outside the door, rather than come in for a full cleaning.
    Maybe Baggy or Ruthie requested that room service be brought up for me, knowing that I wouldn’t stop painting long enough to seek out food? That must be it, I decide, before looking down at my paint-splattered T-shirt. I’m an absolute mess. It was very thoughtful of my family to save me from having to go out in public looking like this, especially since they hadn’t bothered to bring the croissant I’d requested earlier.
    My naturally cautious personality has me pause to look through the peephole before opening the door. I nearly jump out of my skin when I see a distorted version of Kai looking back at me through the tiny glass. Geesh, does he deliver room service, too?
    “You can just leave the tray outside the door,” I yell, hoping he’ll just drop off the food and not see the paint-covered mess I have made of myself.
    “It's Kai. What tray?” he asks, sounding genuinely perplexed. “I didn’t see you today, so I wanted to make sure you are okay.”
    “Oh, I’m fine.” I am touched by his concern. I guess this really is a full-service resort. “Thanks for checking on me.”
    “I’d prefer to see for myself.” I can hear the grin in his voice.
    Shit! I look behind me at the painting. There isn’t any place to hide it except the bathroom, and I don’t want to risk smudging it while trying to move it. It’s still wet, so I can’t throw a dropcloth over it.
    I make a snap decision and unlock the bolt on the door, leaving the chain hooked. I open the door the chain’s width and smile at Kai. “See, healthy as can be.”
    He beams at me as if I don’t look like a paint-covered fool. “Ah, you’ve been painting. I wasn’t sure if you were sick, so I brought chicken noodle soup.” He holds up a container as evidence.
    “Thanks,” I tell him, truly touched that he would think to do that. I reach through the crack in the door to grab the soup container, but it won’t fit through the still-chained opening. I squeeze it slightly, but can’t pull it through.
    “I think you might have to open the door.” He states the obvious fact that I have been refusing to accept.
    Sighing, I release the container long enough to close and unchain the door. When I reopen the door, I stand in the opening, hoping to block Kai’s entry into