Hues Of Love

6

ROSALIE BOUGHT some art supplies—pencils, paint brushes, a paint set and a sketch pad. She sat at a cozy coffee shop, and allowed herself to get lost in the blankness of the paper, turning the page into a beautiful piece of work.

"That's beautiful," someone said, making Rosalie's focus falter. She lifted her head up, and her eyes met gorgeous, red lips. Dropping her paint brush onto a tissue, she shook her hand to alleviate her tense knuckles.

"Thank you," Rosalie smiled, as the woman leaned closer, her eyes moving over the shades with fascination.

"This reminds me of a piece that I've seen before," her long, silver hair was draped over her shoulders, and a pair of thin-framed glasses sat nicely on her nose.

"That's possible. Inspiration can be plagiarized, I guess," Rosalie said. The girl chuckled, and took a seat on the chair opposite Rosalie's.

"I'm Kelly."

Rosalie smiled and wiped her hand on a napkin. She'd been painting, and sketching for hours to take her mind off of everything, "Rosalie."

Kelly continued to admire Rosalie's piece, and Rosalie flipped the sketch pad over, so that she'd get a better view, "it's so familiar."

Rosalie raised her brow. Kelly had probably seen one of Rosalie's paintings under her alias name. She closed her sketch pad, and took a sip of her cold coffee.

"So you have a love of art?" Rosalie asked. Kelly smiled and placed her hands on the table. She'd notice that face from a mile away—Kaitlyn Jennings's daughter.

"Aspiring artist," Kelly said.

Rosalie was intrigued. She'd always enjoyed discussing the craft with someone who appreciated the stroke of a paintbrush, or pencil as much as she did, "me too."

"You're Kaitlyn..."

"Yes, I am," a sudden tension rose, and Rosalie noticed the blush creeping onto Kelly's cheeks. Rosalie had used her mother's fame to pull advances on women before, not that she really needed it. Her beautiful smile always seemed to do the trick, or so she was told.

"Your mom's like my... everything. She's..."

"Amazing. I know."

Kelly took out her phone, and quickly snapped a picture of the two, which made Rosalie uncomfortable, "she's in Puerto Rico, right?" Rosalie nodded. At least Kelly did her research. She didn't appreciate being confronted by one of her mother's loyal fans, but there was something about Kelly that made her wonder—why am I not attracted to her? Kelly was definitely Rosalie's type—nerdy and seemingly smart. Rosalie didn't even want to be with Alex, who was someone she loved.

"You probably know her whereabouts more than me. It was nice meeting you," Rosalie packed her things, and headed to her car. It was Henry's eighteenth birthday, and he invited her over for the pool party that Beth was hosting. She wasn't sure that she wanted to be there, because Alex, of course, would be. And hopefully Alex would attend for her son's sake, and not just for a chance to see Rosalie.

Traffic was heavy for a Saturday afternoon, and the gift that sat on the front passenger's seat of the car, dazzled in the sunlight. Rosalie sighed, as she pulled up a block away from Beth's house, and grabbed the gift along with her purse. The street was filled with cars, presumably owned by the other guests that attended the party.

When she pressed the doorbell, Beth opened the door, almost immediately, with a frown on her face. Rosalie stepped inside with a smile, wondering why Beth seemed so upset, and then, she saw Alex standing by the staircase. Rosalie's smile faltered, and a frown, of her own, curved her lips, "sweetheart," Alex pulled Rosalie into her arms, but didn't receive a warm embrace in return. Rosalie felt as though she was suffocating, and those feelings that she'd held close to her heart, for all those years, seemed to be disintegrating.