Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgment
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
The Art of Living
ISBN # 978-1-78651-457-8
©Copyright Cassidy Ryan 2016
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright August 2016
Edited by Rebecca Scott
Pride Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2016 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
THE ART OF LIVING
Book two in the Arts & Hearts series
It’s time to stop running and start living again.
Gus had been living life under the radar, hiding from ex-turned-stalker Michael. He’d been running for a long time, and had had to cut ties with everything and everyone he knew—including his family.
It was a lonely, frightening existence, until he met the guys at the studios. With his dog, Zephyr, and his new, makeshift family, he has found some kind of peace. Though his new life is far from perfect, he is content.
Then he meets Brodie, and soon Gus wants to shake things up and take back his life.
But Michael isn’t ready to give up on Gus yet, and he isn’t going to let anybody stand in his way.
Dedication
For Rebecca, with thanks.
Trademarks Acknowledgment
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Jiminy Cricket: The Walt Disney Company
Disney: The Walt Disney Company
Charlie’s Angels: Spelling-Goldberg Productions/Columbia Pictures Television
James Bond: Ian Fleming, Eon Productions
Pussy Galore: Ian Fleming, Eon Productions
Jaguar: Jaguar Land Rover, Tata Motors Limited
Land Rover: Tata Motors Limited
The Sound of Music: Rogers and Hammerstein
Sherlock Holmes: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Chapter One
“Gus, hey, Gus.” There was a rush of footsteps, and a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He spun around, taking a backwards step at the same time, leaving him a little unbalanced.
“What?” he exclaimed in alarm. Damn. It’s been nearly a year—will I ever get used to hearing that name? He smiled sheepishly when he saw his friend Drew staring wide-eyed at him, holding his hand up like it had been burned.
“Sorry, Drew.” Gus huffed a laugh that was more relief than humor. “I—uh, I was miles away.”
“Clearly,” Drew replied, looking a little confused. “I was just… I wanted to change my lunch order to a veggie wrap, yeah?”
“Jamie’s still got you on a short leash?” Gus teased, but his heart was still beating a tad too fast.
Drew smiled and shrugged. “She’s my very own Jiminy Cricket.”
That pulled a real laugh from Gus. Drew’s four-year-old, ball-of-energy daughter had had him on his toes ever since she’d learned about good nutrition at nursery.
“Veggie wrap it is,” Gus said. “Have you seen Annie around?”
“She said something about a meeting with a new client,” Drew replied. “I don’t think she’ll be back for lunch.”
“Yeah? Good for her.” Gus blushed when he realized how patronizing that must have sounded. “I mean, for her business, you know?”
Drew tipped his head to the side, and he narrowed his eyes. “Are you okay?”
Aside from feeling like an idiot? “Yes, sure, of course.” He felt the heat in his cheeks burn, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll just… Nice man bun, by the way.”
Drew’s eyes flicked up as if he could see his own dark hair, caught up in a messy bun. “Uh, thanks, I guess.” He was looking more baffled by the second.
But before Drew could say anything further, Gus hurried off toward the stairs and descended them two at a time. It was only when he reached the bottom and glanced at the phone in his hand that he realized he’d intended to phone the lunch order in before heading down to collect it.
Alone in the foyer, with the muffled sound of music drifting down the stairs, Gus let his head fall forward and took a deep breath.
What the hell was that? Hadn’t he put the days of jumping at his own shadow behind him?
“Okay, enough of that,” he said, voice firm and, giving himself a mental shake, he squared his shoulders and raised his chin, hoping to translate looking composed into feeling that way.
The blast of chilly wind that hit him when he stepped outside the main door of the studios was bracing, so Gus took a moment to enjoy the late autumn day.
In those last days of October, the cobbled lane in which the building stood—just behind the bustling main street of Glasgow’s West End—was sparsely populated. The bars and restaurants had taken in the pavement tables that were so prized in the summer months, and it was a little too cold for the usual window shoppers to linger outside the independent boutiques and gift shops.
Gus appreciated the peace. It was easier to see potential danger when there was no crowd for it to hide in.
When his heart rate had returned to its normal rhythm, Gus stepped away from the doorway and walked the few steps to The Backstreet Bean. He hated that he couldn’t fight the urge to scan the lane, just once more.
The Bean, owned by Asa Lennox—who also owned the studios upstairs—and run by his younger sister Erin, was busy no matter what time of year it was, and Gus felt a bit exposed as he crossed from the glass door to the serving counter in the corner. He wished he’d phoned the order in, as was the norm, but for some reason he couldn’t fathom, today didn’t feel normal. Something felt…off, somehow, but for the life of him he couldn’t think what.
“Hey, sweetheart, what can I get you?”
Gus realized he’d drifted off when he was startled by Erin’s greeting. “Oh, hi, Erin. Just the lunch order, thanks.” He dug the piece of paper he’d scribbled on out of his pocket and handed it over.
“Sure thing, but why didn’t you just call and I would have let you know when it was ready to pick up?” she asked, a smile lighting up her pretty face.
Gus shrugged and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I-I just felt like a breath of air, so…”
“Well, okay then, sweetie,” Erin replied, glancing over the hastily written list. “I’ll have this ready in no time, why don’t you have a seat while you wait?”
Gus nodded and she spun away on the ball of her foot toward the kitchen. But rather than finding somewhere to sit, Gus instead moved to stand at the end of the counter, with his back to the wall so that he could see the whole room.
The patrons of The Bean were a wide and varied lot, from suit-wearing business people to scruffy-looking students, and yummy mummies comfortably breast-feeding their infants while checking their smartphones.
Near the back, in one of the semicircular booths, Gus spotted Annie, her red hair like a beacon in the muted lighting. She was talking animatedly, and her hands seemed to be drawing something in the air.
Gus smiled, imagining the glint of excitement that entered her blue eyes whenever she talked about work. He couldn’t quite make out the person—presumably the client—sitting opposite Annie. Male, dark hair, suited and booted—that was about as much as Gus could see, since the man was sitting in the shade of one of Erin’s huge plants.
“Excuse me, may I—?”
Gus stepped out of the way when a young woman gestured to the glass case he was partially obscuring. She smiled sweetly and flicked her eyelashes a couple of times, then seemed to brush against him deliberately when she stepped closer. Gus just moved another few feet away and was about to resume leaning when a thought brought him suddenly alert.
“Erin?” he called out, moving around the counter so that he was level with the kitchen door.
The door swung open and Erin poked her head out. “Something wrong, hon?”
“Yeah, sorry,” Gus said, holding up his hands in a silent apology. “You haven’t made up Drew’s roast beef sandwich, have you? Because he asked me to change that to a veggie wrap.”
“No problem,” Erin said with a dismissive wave of her hand, and a grin. “Jamie’s still cracking the whip, then?”
“She’s just looking after her old man.” Gus smiled. “Thanks, Erin.”
“Won’t be more than a few minutes,” she promised with a wink, and as she went back inside the door swung, giving Gus a quick peek at the kitchen staff rushing around making up orders.
His smile deepened. As busy as she must have been running The Bean, Erin always insisted on making up their food herself.
“Gus!”
He turned at the sound of Annie calling his name, and saw his friend waving at him from her seat. He lifted his hand to wave back, but realized that she seemed to be beckoning him over.
Confused as to why she would call him over while she was in the middle of a business meeting, and certain that he must have been mistaken, Gus hesitated. But Annie just signaled again, so vehemently that he could hear the jingle of the bangles on her wrist all the way across the room.
Curious eyes turned toward Gus, and embarrassment made his skin prickle. Just to avoid the staring, he navigated a path through the tables, keeping his eyes on the floor until he reached Annie’s table.
“Gus, love, why don’t you join us?” she asked, sliding along the leather seat to make room for him.
Gus shook his head. “No, really, Annie, I don’t want to interrupt your meeting. I’m just getting food for the guys, and then I’ll head back upstairs.”
“Well, join us while you wait,” she insisted. “I wanted to introduce you to Brodie.”
For the first time, Gus properly looked at the man with Annie. An odd sound, not unlike a hiccup, escaped Gus, and the cadence of his heart went from slightly ruffled to holy fuck in the time it took to blink.
Chapter Two
Gus shook his head, and was turning away from the table when Annie reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist.
“Annie, I can’t, I—” He gestured toward the counter.
But, instead of letting go, Annie tugged insistently until Gus was forced to concede. He slid into the booth beside his friend and glanced across the table.
“I’m sorry, I won’t stay long.”
The man shook his head, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. “No problem.”
“Brodie, this is my good friend Gus,” Annie said, and slipped her hand down to hold his, as if worried that he would steal away if she let him go. She knew him too well. “Gus, this is Brodie. I’ve been doing some work for him.”
Gus recognized the man, of course. It was rare to pick up a newspaper and not read about the latest project of hotshot property developer Brodie Fullarton.
“Gus, good to meet you,” Brodie said, extending his hand across the table.
“Uh, yeah, you too, Brodie,” Gus replied quietly, then indicated the hand that Annie was still clutching. He was unaccountably glad of the excuse to avoid touching the man.
Brodie let his hand fall to the table, and humor shone in his eyes. “So, what do you do, Gus?” His voice was deep and resonant, rich.
An unfamiliar tingle started in Gus’ stomach, like the sensation of blood rushing back into a limb he’d been sleeping on. He retrieved his hand from Annie’s grip and clasped his hands in his lap. “I-I’m a painter.” It came out sounding like a question.
“Oh? So, you work upstairs too?” Brodie asked, his expression showing genuine interest.
His eyes looked almost muddy brown until he turned his head a certain way, then Gus would see a trace of green or a faint glint of gold. Fascinating.
Gus realized after a moment that Brodie was watching him intently, waiting for an answer to his question. “Yes, uh, yes I do. Right… Right above us,” he replied, pointing at the ceiling. He cringed inside and crossed his arms over his chest.
Well done, Gus, now he knows which way is up.
The little smile on Brodie’s lips twitched, and Gus just knew his face was doing its best impression of a tomato. Unable to maintain eye contact, Gus looked at the black velvet box sitting on the table.
“Is this the work you’ve been doing?” he asked Annie.
She nodded and glanced toward Brodie, eyebrow arched, as if asking permission. In his peripheral vision, Gus saw Brodie dip his head once, briefly.
The box, when she picked it up, was slightly larger than the palm of her hand, and bore the simple silver daisy design that was her trademark. Gus leaned closer as she opened the box to reveal a silver butterfly with blue stones in the wings, resting on a bed of cream satin.