A Muse Her

Chapter 3

Mateo followed Maia through her tiny living room fitted with a small green couch and matching high backed chair that sat in front of the crackling fireplace that desperately needed a sweep, but he'd handle that.

They walked up a wooden staircase to the mezzanine and he forced himself to look away from the salacious sway of her hips in her tight black leggings or the way her long gray sweater curved over her plump ass.

Dear God, was he doing the right thing agreeing to work with her?

He let out a slow breath and looked away from her rear end to the window that overlooked the snow swept town. He imagined if there wasn't a blizzard the lights of the town would be on full display.

"Excuse the mess," Maia said as she brushed away a few crumpled pieces of paper from the mustard yellow couch before she sat her plate on top of a pile of notebooks on the wooden coffee table. "But I told you I've been suffering from writer's block."

"You weren't kidding," Mateo said as he sat beside her and followed the trail of crumpled papers to the oak desk sitting in front of the wide windows with more notebooks and a laptop barely visible above the paper and books. "No offense, but how do you concentrate up here?"

"Hey now, this is controlled chaos, my friend," she said, plucking a floral print notebook from the pile on the coffee table. "It helps having that view too."

"Yeah," he said, sitting his plate on a clear spot on the table. "I definitely need to clean out your fireplace before this place goes up in flames."

Maia pursed her lips. "Oh please, I've been alright."

"Uh-huh, so what's this novel about, then?"

Maia's brown eyes lit up as she opened her notebook. "I usually write from my female protagonist's point of view, but my last few novels have felt flat and dry."

Mateo raised an eyebrow. "Aren't all of your novels best-sellers? They can't be that dry if people are buying them."

"Yeah, I know," Maia said, shrugging. "But it still doesn't change the fact that I thought they were shit." She frowned. "And I didn't know you followed news about me?"

"It's hard not to," he said, taking a sip of wine. "You know how these people talk in town. You're the resident celebrity around here."

"I guess so, but there are actual celebrities that come here all the time to ski," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not that interesting. I just happen to be a decent writer."

"Who talks to everyone. The A-listers stay up at the resort and never bother to come down. So you're pretty interesting just because of that."

A smile tugged at her lips. "I guess I never really thought of it like that."

"Seriously?" Mateo said, resting his arm on the back of the couch. "I kind of always thought that's why you come here for the attention."

"What?" She scrunched up her face in disgust. "No. I come here for the tranquility. It helps me think, but damn I didn't know you thought of me like that."

"No...no, that's not what I meant. I don't think you're shallow at all," he said, dragging a hand through his hair. "I guess that came out wrong. You just seem to enjoy being around people."

"Oh, I can see how you'd think that. I've learned how to create a good public image for myself over the years, but really I'm an introvert. I don't like attention and if I didn't have to make public appearances for my books, I wouldn't."

"Ah," Mateo nodded. "I get that. That's why I moved out here."

"Oh really," Maia said, flipping to a blank page in her notebook and tugging a pen from the curly bun atop her head. "Is that why you keep to yourself? Are you running from something?"