The President's Daughter (Liam Payne) Book 6

Chapter 39

Elodie’s POV

“So what did you plan for the date?” I ask as we finish our breakfast.

“It’s a surprise,” he says with a grin.

“I hate surprises.”

“I know. That’s why I did it,” he jokes. I frown as he goes back to typing on his computer.

“Tell me,” I order.

“Go read your book or something, the taxi will be here in an hour,” he says dismissively.

“An hour?” I ask in surprise. That early?

“Mhm,” he nods, not looking up from his computer. “It’s going to be messy so don’t wear nice clothes.” I raise an eyebrow at this. Well he wasn’t doing the cliche dinner/movie thing then which was a relief. I was curious now.

“No cameras right?” I remind him.

“No cameras,” he confirms.

“Fine,” I say shortly. “I’m going to go see what the Aussies are up to.”

They’re being idiots, like usual. Goofing off with each other and filming a good portion of it. That’s what I liked about hanging out with them. They were like children. Didn’t take anything serious and never pushed if you didn’t want to talk about something. I just watch their shenanigans for 50 minutes or so before heading back to my own bus to change into an older set of clothes like Liam had said. A worn pair of shorts and a tank top. When the taxi shows up, the four of us, Liam, two security guards, and I, get in and we’re off. I suppose I should be thankful we weren’t in a massive city like LA or New York City. In either of those, there wouldn’t be a chance of evading paps, but here, after we got away from the venue, it was easy. The car eventually pulls up in front of what looks like an empty warehouse.

“You’re not planning on kidnapping me are you…” I joke as he gets out.

“You caught me. I was trying to get the whole US government to hate me,” he replies with a grin. “Thanks guys, we’re good from here,” he then says to the guards. They nod and I’m slightly surprised they wouldn’t be coming in to whatever it was with us. He opens the door, letting me in first and I slow to a stop right inside the door, looking around. The room is filled with a bunch of different types of canvas and I can see just about every type of media. There were things for sculpting, painting, ceramics, even metallurgy although I didn’t think I’d touch that.

“So am I going to have to worry about you sneaking out the bathroom window?” he asks with a grin, coming up behind me.

Twenty minutes later, we’ve almost finished filling up the balloons with paint and nailing them to the canvas.

“I’ve always wanted to try this,” I confess, tying the knot on the last balloon filled with red paint and attaching it to the huge canvas we’d propped against the wall.

“Well why haven’t you?” he asks, waiting back a couple feet with the darts in his hands.

“It’s kind of hard to get your hands on large canvases and darts at conservative boarding schools,” I explain, walking back to him and taking a few of the darts from his hand. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he answers with a grin. We turn back to face the canvas and start throwing the darts. I couldn’t help but start to laugh as we did so. Some of them just bounced off the balloons while others missed them entirely. But when they did land, the balloons burst open, splattering the canvas with the paint. When we got down to one balloon left, it became a competition to see who could hit the target first. Finally, his aim proved to be better as he nails the final balloon, spattering the already paint-laden canvas with a final smattering of blue.