Fifty Shades of Klaus : Chapter 15

“Are you ready?” I ask Bonnie.

She gives me a threatening look, “If you’re teasing because their family thinks I’m a weirdo, then no. But if you’re serious, then,” she sighs, “I guess I am.”

I give her an encouraging smile. “Bonnie, don’t get nervous. I’m sure their family is going to love you. It just takes a while, you know. No parent is cool when people date their kids. Trust me, I know. Trust me, I know.” Of course, I know. Try being the daughter of the town sheriff, then talk to me about overprotectiveness.

Giving me a nod, she swallows in an uneasy lump in her throat and opens the car door. I open the door from my side and clutch my purse ever so tightly. My eyes wander around the venue. Looks exactly like how I remembered, but more presentable. It’s now a museum after all. Not that there was anything wrong with the place before the renovation.

The renovation just gave the place a little more excitement and flare. It brings more sophistication and modernization to a primal looking structure. A water propelling fountain sit opposite the mouth of the museum, and a plant silhouette of an exposed woman stand beside the fountain. It gave the place more artistry than its original blueprint.

A man wearing a hat escorts me to the door. Along the doors await the beautiful and blonde, Rebekah Mikaelson along with her elder brother, Elijah. I didn’t expect to encounter Rebekah tonight. Elijah, I’m prepared for, but the sister? She’s still not over me protected with my own load of vervain — well, Bonnie’s load — so I thought she would be scouring the whole town searching for her own dummy to torture to release her anger.

I guess I was wrong. A pair of couple waits before us in the line. I feel the palm of my hand sweat prominently. Are they ready to risk exposure just to kill me? She wasn’t hesitant the last time, what would stop her now? Bonnie shifts uncomfortably beside me. I mentally sigh.

Rather than worrying about my own misfortunes, I should be worrying for my best friend who is going through what can only be described as a major crisis. I take her hand between mine and squeeze it lightly, hoping to pass on some courage. She looks and smiles at me weakly.

The pair in front of us passes swiftly along the door, as we take their place. I watch Rebekah look at me from head to toe, rolling her eyes at me as she did. “So, you’d rather dress in tacky colors with bad hair than be a classic flapper from the jazz age?” she insults my dress. I look down on my outfit, finding nothing wrong with it. “Honestly, I don’t know what my brother sees in you.”

Frustration gets the best of me as I retort at her comment, “Maybe he sees a challenge. See, unlike some other people, I don’t need to force intimidation.”

She pouts her lips in arrogance, probably with the memory of when she threatened me. I manage to keep my composure and give Elijah a decent greeting. “I’m glad you took the time to visit the exhibit,” he replies.

I smile at him and raise the card strapped behind my neck that identifies me as a journalist. “It’s for work, but I am interested in looking through the art.” He gives me an equally delighted smile. “Is Klaus in?” I ask, “The firm would love a statement from him.”

“And what makes you think that you would have the privilege to talk to my brother? He’s a very busy man,” Rebekah remarks.

I answer back, “I’m sure he is. I was just hoping that he would have a little gratitude over people like me.”

“People like you? You mean pathetic people?” says Rebekah.

Elijah steps in between us, “Enough said. There are guests waiting in the line. I’m glad you came, Caroline, but I suppose it’ll be more discreet for you to proceed. I’m sure you’ll find my brother somewhere inside.” He pauses and looks over to Bonnie, “Bonnie, I’m certain Kol is more than available to accompany you. I insist you have Finn walk you over to him.”

Bonnie gives him a little bow, “I’m sure I’ll find my way on my own. Caroline knows the place enough for us not to get lost, but thank you for the concern,” she smiles.

We enter the museum hand in hand. I hear her sigh heavily beside me, “You handled that fairly well. And I think that he likes you. Elijah is a very honorable man. He wouldn’t hate you just because you were drunk the first time you met.”

She rolls her eyes to me, “You don’t know that. Elijah looks prim and moral, but Kol has told me stories that you would never have imagined that he would have done. Besides, I’m more worried about Esther. I’m really hoping never to see her again, but that’s practically impossible, if I really want to date Kol.”

“You should stop being so negative,” I said. She gives me a tattered look. “Come on! Let’s go find your man. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

Both of us exchange smiles and turn to our backs at the same time. Our turn was met by a youthful, charming face. “At your service,” he mutters. At the corner of my eye, I see Bonnie’s eyes light up. Her smile turns into a grin and her face blooms in an instant. Kol takes her right hand and kisses the back of it.

I smile at their little exchange and say, “Go ahead. Take your time.” I pause, “So, I’ll meet you at the car around nine?”

She was about to answer to my question when Kol interrupts, “Actually,” he starts, “Mother would love to see you again after the exhibit.” I see her gape at him, “She asked me to invite you over for the night. If that’s okay with you.”

“Are you serious?” she whispers. “Did she really say that? Because honestly, I’ve been terrified the whole day that I’ve given them the wrong impression last night.”

Chuckling to my own, I listen in more intently to their private conversation, “I could call and ask her if she was serious, but I’m fairly sure that she wouldn’t lie about such matters.”

Bonnie turns her head and looks at me with glowing eyes, “I guess I’m staying with the Mikaelson’s for the night.” I step in and give her a hug.

“I told you to stop worrying. Now, be good and take care of yourself.” Giving her one last squeeze, I let go. She mouths two words to me before finally letting go, “Thank you.” I give her a small nod and say to them, “Now, go enjoy the exhibits. I have to get to work.”

My best friend gives me one last smile. “Actually Caroline,” Kol manages to slip in before leaving, “You should probably keep an eye out for my brother. I’m sure he’s around somewhere.”

I roll my eyes at Kol’s remark. Of course, he’s teasing me! He obviously realized that from the time he has convinced me enough about vampires, he has also swayed me enough about his brother — which is true. Grumbling my way through the boring art, I stumble upon a fascinating snowflake. I took my time analyzing it.

The darkness of the painting is hypnotizing. It’s as if you couldn’t take your eyes off of it; it’s as if the subliminal message is already staring right at your face yet you couldn’t figure it out. I brush my glance away from the painting with the feeling of uneasiness — as if someone was looking at me.

Looking back, I find a man, as charming as always, staring right back at me. He has a lovely smile on his face; a smile that I couldn’t resist smiling back to. I position my body to him and look at him from head to toe. He is so awfully irresistible. “Here to steal Tiny Tim’s crutches?” I joke.

His smile widens, “Dickens was a dark man.” He makes his way close to me, as I walk the other way to where he first stood. “You would’ve liked him.”

“Nice snowflake, by the way.” I whisper.

He answers back in his straining disguise, “Is my work really that literal?”

I let out a silent chuckle, “I’m serious.” I sigh, “There’s something —” I start, but suddenly finds it difficult to finish. I look back at the painting once more and finally decides on a safe comment, “— lonely about it.”

He replies again, with a straining look, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.” Taking a step back, he shifts his mood instantaneously, “Can I offer you some champagne?” He says smiling in a teasing manner of some sort.

Quickly, turning my back to him to avoid much eye contact with him, I reply, “Can’t. Too many adult prying eyes.” I stop on my tracks and give him another look, “Don’t wanna be high school cautionary tale in the next town meeting.” In some obvious sense, I need to be cautious. My mom is a sheriff and she knows her stuff. Being a journalist, I decisively put myself out there, so I need to be careful. People might think that I’m a drunk and it’ll get them talking. And that’s not something that I’m looking forward to.

Looking down on a miniature statue on the table in front of me, I hear Klaus reply. “Well then it’s a good thing that the high school part is nearly over.” I bring my head up to answer him with a witty remark, but became hesitant as I witnessed his poker-looking expression.

I hobble up the courage and retort, “If we’re going to be nice to each other, then I will need that glass of champagne.” He smiles at me.

“Is that our thing?” he whispers lowly to me while taking steps closer to me.

I scoff, “We don’t have a thing,” while smiling at him romantically.

“Allow me,” he immediately says and smiles gorgeously before turning away. I look at him from behind, thinking of the many ways that I could easily fall in love with him. My phone vibrates on my hand and it read; He’s here. It was from Bonnie.

He’s here. Who’s he? I make my way around the lobby, in search for Bonnie or for the man she’s warning me about. Walking pass the wonderful paintings, I suddenly find the man my best friend is preventing me from seeing. He walks up to me, “Good evening, Caroline. I can see that you made it here good and well.”

“I believe that’s none of business,” I bark.

He chuckles arrogantly, “My purpose is to witness the exhibit from my very own eyes. Is it so wrong for me to compliment you in a moment of rude awakening?”

Rolling my eyes, I grit my teeth, “You think your vocabulary makes you look smart and appropriate for the event, don’t you? Classic. You never change, do you, Tyler? Grow up! You’re not a kid anymore. You’re starting college in a year! But you still act like you’re 12 yrs. old.”

I see his nose flare up. At the corner of my eyes, I see a silhouette figure approaching me from behind. I notice Tyler gaze to that person. “Is this guy bothering you?” Tyler asks, making the initial assault as he grinds his chest against the man’s arm. Knowing who it was that is behind me, I glare at Tyler even more.

“No,” I answer. “Come on, Klaus. Let’s take our champagne in a more mature environment. I don’t think kids would understand.” Taking my glass from his hand, I turn to the opposite direction. It took Klaus a little while to follow from behind. “That was 30 seconds too long for you to follow.” I stop and give him a look, “What did you do?” I look beyond him and don’t see Tyler where he was supposed to be.

He purses his lips, “I politely asked him to keep his distance from you. No violence, I promise.”

I sigh, and drink up from my glass while slowly making my way along the hall of paintings. “So, it’s a pretty good looking exhibit you’ve got here.”

“It’s alright. Well, with help from here and there, it was manageable. My art consultant is a very illuminating addition to the team. She organized the event by herself in a very limited time. She is very keen at what she does.” He explains.

Nodding at him, I have never been so lost of words. The reason not because I am shocked or in fear, but because of the anxiety. Being around him makes me anxious in a good way, but the anxiety also robs me of my voice. We continue to walk when he suddenly asks, “What did your boy come here for?”

“Huh?” I ask.

He smirks, “It’s very obvious from the depth in your eyes that you are thinking about him. What did he want?”

I chuckle, “Sorry to disappoint, but the depth in my eyes isn’t caused by Tyler, or anyone for that matter. Tyler didn’t ask for anything from me. I wish I could do something about his bruises though. He still looks beat up.” I pause for a moment of thought, “Hey. You could heal him, right? You could give him your blood. Kol did that for me.”

“He doesn’t deserve to be healed.” He says.

I roll my eyes, “Klaus, nobody deserves to be beat up like the way you beat him up. He looks bruised from his face to his ego. If not heal him, you could at least apologize.”

He replies in humor, “Now, why would I want to do that?”

“Because despite his doubt in me, he’s still my best friend. You can’t me expect me to be okay with what you did to him. He’s one of the most important people in my life. If you want to be friends with me, then don’t mess with my friends, and don’t mess with my past.” I pause, “Because I don’t want you or your secret getting in the way of anything.”

He becomes quiet, “Well, that’s heartfelt,” he says in monotone. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

My eyes immediately glues to the ground in embarrassment, “Me neither.”

With my head held down, I didn’t know what expression he had on his face, but I’m fairly certain it wasn’t a good one. “Let’s get on to work then. Shall I give you a tour around the hall?” I nod. The two of us walk side by side, as we tour along the hall of paintings. He introduces to me several well-known paintings and tells of the history behind them.

The way he interpreted everything into his own words were very enjoyable. One highlight of the tour is when he introduced the French painting from Germany. It was a highlight because he told of its origin from his own personal view. Because yes, he was there. He was there in Germany when it was made. It makes him really ancient, but it didn’t matter to me. His stories made me like him even more.

We continue to walk around when a realization suddenly hit me. He points towards another landscape painting. I comment, “Another renowned painting, I’m assuming?” He gives me a puzzled look. “This is great, really. Excellent art, and really good stuff for my review, but it all seems so similar to me. All of them are from the artistic minds of gifted artists of our ancient history.” I stop talking, the expression on his face still unchanging. I sigh, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I secretly hoped to see some of your original works in the mix with these really famous paintings. I thought that the point of this isn’t to promote the deceased artists and their works, but to promote art in itself.

“You told me that you have this passion for what you do and I love that about you.” I pause, “I don’t know if you get my point, or if you think that I’m just really crazy right now. But I do have a point.”

He chuckles — it was almost a laugh. “My works are up in the mix with them, Caroline. I’ve only walked you through the west wing of the museum. My works are on the north and south wing. My consultant instructed to have them there to become the eye-catching factor of the exhibit. It’s unfortunate that you just breezed through them from your entrance, but I’ll walk you through it in a while. Just unwind your mind with the beauty of these historical pieces for now. We’re almost done with them. We’ll be going through my originals in a few.”

Scrunching my face in complete embarrassment, I look up to the painting. It hit me like a bullet striking through my heart. I recognize the painting. It is the one from the Mikaelson’s Ball; the one he showed to me in his study. “You remember?” he asks. I nod. “I forgot to tell you before, but it’s one of Monet’s. It’s actually a stolen painting.”

My eyes grew wide, “You stole this one? From whom? Monet himself?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say steal, but yes. Several of the artifacts in this museum have been stolen for centuries. And there are replica paintings around here somewhere. I don’t normally like to speak of it.” He explains more, “You must be wondering how it is legal or just that I have fake pieces around here, but personally, I feel as if the real thing is just a metaphor. When a person with a passion for art sees these paintings, they would know. But the people who have no clear background of art would appreciate it nonetheless. Therefore, I went for the one that would benefit the common good. And that is to share the beauty of art — original or fake.”

“But, isn’t that still illegal?” I ask, “I mean, I get that it's just for appreciation, but everyone is aware of the law. There are consequences for that crime.”

He raises his hand above waist level as an invitation to move forward. He continues to explain further as we walk, “Well, there are initial consequences against that crime, but it isn't a matter I like to speak of with you. A matter worth talking to you about is your new job. How is it going so far?”

I smile sweetly, “Well, as you can see,” I say, elevating both hands, referencing to what’s happening at the moment, “It’s been great. I feel great and the job has been both amazing and welcoming. The staff is,” I hesitate to finish my sentence, “interesting. My boss is not very hands-on with regards to mentoring but the editor gives me tips and she seems great. I can’t tell for sure. I mean I have only been there for a few days.”

He chuckles, “Good for you then. When can I hope for another article from you?”

“In a few days; probably tomorrow. I was assigned for this event and I think they’ll publish this one even if it’s bad. I mean it’s a huge event. More people are here than we initially expected.” I explained. “We get that you are a powerful man, but nobody really anticipated such people to be interested in art. It’s wonderful!”

We continue to walk further into the halls of painting when a beautiful lady with gorgeous brown hair approaches Klaus in the most awkward of manners. She smiles at him and holds up a clipboard she is holding. “What did I tell you? The switch does make a huge difference. We're up to six hundred now.”

“Well, congratulations to you, then.” Klaus says in his most British tone.

The girl suddenly looks at me, makes a double turn of the head and smiles, “I didn't know you were bringing a date! Who is this?”

My mouth fall a little. Date? “Uh, She’s —” Klaus stutters, “This is —”

“I'm just a journalist,” I interject quickly. “I'm here in behalf of the journalism firm I work for.”

She grins. “Is that so? Well, I’m Hayley. Klaus hired me as an art consultant for this exhibit. So, what do you think of it, so far? Can I expect something positive from you? I mean I know that everything looks rushed, but I've only had a few days to work on this. Klaus isn't exactly the earliest of birds to offer a project.”

I smile, “It’s beautiful.”

She giggles, “I couldn’t have done this without Klaus’ magnificent art collection.” Pausing, “Have you seen the Monet piece?”

Laughing, I respond to her, “Which one? He has shown me like a ton of Monet’s works. I’m nearly convinced that Monet is his favorite.”

Both of us ladies laugh. I steal a peek at Klaus’ face and witness a charming smile. “One of my favorites,” he mutters. “I believe Hayley here is referring to Monet’s 1872 piece, the one you saw the other day in the mansion.”

“Oh! That one. Yes! That one is really beautiful. Personally, I think that piece is the most precious in all of Klaus’ collection.” I reply. Hayley gives me a wondering look.

She looks at Klaus for a second then back to me one more time, “Just to be sure that we’re on the same page here.” She takes my right hand and drags me to the other corner. “This one? Impression, soleil levant? You think that this is the best in his collection.”

I nod. “Yes, but I haven’t exactly seen his whole collection.” At that moment, Hayley gives me an I-knew-it look. “I would love to see all of it, though.” I say, giving Klaus a look. He gets the message and gives me his signature smirk. I take another look at the painting and looks back at Klaus one more time, “I thought this was the center piece? Isn’t it supposed to be at either the north or south wing?” I ask.

He looks down and answers me with a desolate expression, “Hayley thought differently.”

My eyebrows both furrow in confusion. Beside me, Hayley tries to explain, “Yeah, it’s complicated, but personally, I still think that our decision to go differently will pay off! Klaus wasn’t very excited with my idea, but he hired me to arrange this exhibit. Allowing him to make drastic decisions would put my name on the line as well. And although his initial plan was very substantial, it is also very predictable. And that is not something we’re aiming for.

“Monet is an amazing artist and putting him in front would get people excited, but through the whole exhibit, they would be expecting everything as monumental as the center piece. And although Klaus has an amazing worth of collection, we don’t have enough resources to take that risk. It’s not practical. And I love innovations. It’s my specialty! So it goes against my principles to go with his initial plan.” She finishes.

I nod, “So,” I pause for a while to help my brain sink in everything that the consultant dragged on about. “The centerpiece. What is it then?”