Always in My Heart

by A. C. Arthur

  “I wish I had known who he was when he’d barged in on me asking all those questions about you,” Kenya continued.

  Eva stopped looking at the jackets. “Would you have given him more information if you knew?”

  Kenya looked up, pursing her lips as if she were really thinking about the question. “Nah, but if I’d known he was rich I would have at least called you to find out why you’d walked out on him,” she said. “Which, by the way I’m still wondering. I mean, damn girl, he is super fine! Even if you didn’t know about the money, how could you ignore those eyes and that body? He’s built like an NBA player, tall, lean and yummy!”

  Eva recalled that body, his strong arms in particular as they’d held her up against that wall and thrust deep into her. She also remembered his face very clearly and agreed wholeheartedly with Kenya, Rico Bennett was fine. He was also way out of her league, or at the very least, in a league she didn’t want to get involved with.

  “I was embarrassed I told you. I didn’t go there to have sex with anyone,” she admitted.

  Kenya shook her head. “But of all the men to pick to have sex with, he was absolutely the right one.”

  No, Eva had thought. He wasn’t. What he was now, was an opportunity.

  “I’m not filling my head with any romantic notions. I just accepted his offer to go to the gallery so I can meet his brother. I’ve never met a real life artist before.”

  “Hmph, that’s because you act like painting is a hobby of yours instead of pursuing it as a career,” Kenya quipped. “If you got out of that apartment and tried to network at all, you’d have your paintings in a gallery and would be rubbing elbows with even more artsy folk.”

  Eva frowned. “That’s not in the plan, you know that.”

  “Look, Eva, you know I love you and I love Makai, too. What you did for him is commendable and I’m sure your parents would be proud. But that boy is a grown man now. He’s out here doing his own thing, so it’s about time you started doing yours.”

  Eva hadn’t wanted to have that discussion with Kenya so she’d begun talking about clothes. They’d eventually decided on the understated charcoal gray pencil skirt and crisp white blouse. A wide black belt cinched her waist in tighter, while black platform heels gave her the height that an adult woman should have, instead of the child’s height she’d been cursed with.

  As Rico walked his tall and fine-self beside her into the gallery, she was even more grateful for the four inch heels.

  “I’m sure Renny will enjoy meeting you, especially when I tell him how talented you are,” he said.

  On second thought, Eva frowned as her heels clicked loudly over the glossed tile floors. The walls were white, the floor was white and there was black modular seating in a straight line down the center of the room. Behind a clear glass counter to the right were two women, one, an Asian beauty and the other a black woman with shocking lavender eyes. Both women looked at Rico and smiled. The Asian woman even waved at him. Eva tried her best not to frown.

  “Look, Rico. I hope you don’t think I have any high ideas about coming here. I wasn’t even aware that Lorenzo had a showing today and I certainly did not know that you were his brother,” she was saying, her hands tightening over the black suede clutch she carried. “I don’t need, or I mean, I don’t want you to tell your brother or anyone else about my work. That’s my business and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  He’d been looking at one of the large abstracts on the left wall. It was a colorful piece, and a little busy for Eva’s tastes. When he turned to her he was frowning, his thick brows creasing, dark eyes assessing. She willed her arms down to her sides, even though her fingers wanted to knead that poor clutch even more. It was hell trying not to bite on her lip, but since he’d already commented on that, Eva didn’t want to give him any other reasons to think she was nervous about being here.

  “I’m no art buff, but I know good work when I see it. That picture in your living room is fantastic. It had movement and emotion. The moment I saw it I felt like that woman was going to dance right over to me and wrap her long fingers around my heart,” he said, then clapped his lips closed tightly.

  “I mean, it was a very good portrait. Now, I haven’t seen anything else you’ve done, but by that one alone, I would say you have a tremendous amount of talent. Which is why I’ve been trying to figure out all afternoon, why you would be dancing in a club instead of painting for a living.”

  His frown had grown, even though he was looking at her as if he could see the true answer before Eva could think to speak it. No, she thought. Her personal reasons and feelings were none of his business. That’s not why she was here.

  “There’s a reason I do everything in my life. I’m not some daft female looking for attention or to get rich. Painting has always been a hobby for me and I’m not trying to change—”her words were cut off by a woman’s voice.

  “Rico!” the woman called, and now there were another pair of heels clicking across the floor. “Oh my goodness, Renny didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  The woman, who looked to be only a bit taller than Eva, if both of them stepped out of their heels, was smiling broadly as she wrapped her arms exuberantly around Rico’s neck. He hugged her close, smiling in a way that Eva hadn’t seen him do so far. It was a genuine smile, just as the hug was tight and very familiar. Again, she mentally scolded herself for having any type of feeling—even though she refused to give it a name—where another woman was concerned with Rico. He wasn’t her man so there was really no need for her to feel…whatever it was she felt.

  “He didn’t tell me about the showing,” Rico said as they broke apart. “I had to read about it in the morning paper.”

  The woman shook her head, loose curls scraping over her cheeks with the motion. She was almost the same dark brown complexion as Eva, with larger, more expression-filled eyes and full lips. Her dress was deep red and hung perfectly over her petite frame. Eva sucked in a breath, hoping her stomach wasn’t protruding from beneath the wide leather belt she wore. She had a tendency to bloat in the week or so before her cycle.

  “I swear he’s become so absent-minded since we had the babies,” she continued.

  Rico nodded. “He’s always been absent-minded.”

  They both chuckled and then, as if finally remembering that she was standing there, Rico turned his attention to her. He reached out, touching his fingers to her elbow, and pulling her closer to him.

  “This is Eva Miller,” he said. “She’s my guest today. Eva, this is my sister-in-law, Sabrina.”

  Eva smiled immediately. “It’s nice to meet you, Sabrina,” she said sincerely. It was really nice to meet Rico’s sister-in-law, she thought, chastising herself for the assumption she’d made a few seconds ago.

  “Oh, no,” she said with a wave of her hand as she looked at Eva. “Just call me, Bree. Rico’s never brought a guest to an event before.”

  “I think this was an impromptu decision for both of us,” Eva replied.

  “Well, whatever. Come on up. Renny’s exhibit is on the second floor this time. He told Monica he would need the whole floor with all the lights out,” Bree said.

  She’d already taken the arm that Rico was holding of Eva’s into her own hand, and was pulling Eva along as she talked.

  “I’m sure Monica took that bit of direction very well,” Rico said from behind them.

  Bree looked over her shoulder and nodded. “You know how those two clash whenever it comes to his sculptures being on display. Actually, Renny acts like that anytime his sculptures are shown outside of his own gallery.”

  Then Bree looked at Eva and said, “Monica Lakefield owns and runs this gallery. She’s Alex’s girlfriend. You know, Alex, the oldest Bennett brother.”

  Eva simply nodded because she did recall Kenya saying there were three Bennett brothers.

  “Well, Monica can be a bit of a pill, but Renny’s pretty stubborn too. Karena, she’s married to my brother Sam, and she�
��s Monica’s sister. She usually handles the exhibit but she and Sam have been trying to have another baby so she’s been a little busy. If you know what I mean.”

  Bree laughed and Eva found the sound infectious. She grinned too and nodded. “Ah, yes, I think I know exactly what that means.”

  In the next few minutes they were taking an elevator up a floor, then exiting to a very dim space with golden lights shooting up from the floor to highlight every stand holding a Lorenzo Bennett sculpture.

  Eva was immediately on the move, going to the first sculpture of a woman lying back on a chair, her legs spread wide, one hand between them. She wasn’t a huge fan of sculptures, but Lorenzo’s work had always pulled her in. Maybe because of her job, or it could be because of the emotion she always felt radiating from his pieces. It matched what she felt when she picked up her brush to paint. It started in the pit of her stomach and circled like a brewing storm, until her hands were moving, the picture in her mind coming to life on canvas.

  “It’s breathtaking isn’t it?” Rico asked from behind her.

  “Yes,” she said in a small whisper. “It is.”

  “It’s funny that I’ve never thought of his work using that particular term until this very moment.”

  He was standing close behind her now, so close his breath fanned over her neck, which was bare since she hadn’t worn one of her wigs today.

  “I think it’s because I can so easily see you in this position,” he continued and Eva shifted.

  “I’ll just bet you can,” she replied, because there had been many nights when her pleasure was her own to find. She continued walking the floor, noting that more people were arriving and milling about.

  Rico followed her, remaining silent most of the time while she looked at the pieces, her mind whirling with inspiration, fingers eager to get back to her place and paint. That’s how art had always made her feel, rejuvenated. She’d turned to it after the dream of dancing had been tampered by the lack of finances, and it had always soothed her in a way that nothing else had ever been able to. Even now, after particularly hard nights at the club, Eva could come home, take a shower and go right to the canvas. There she could pour out all of her frustrations—the ones that she’d never dare let anyone see. As she’d stated to Rico, her decisions were her own to make, just as her disappointment and sadness were her own burdens to carry.

  “Look what the wind blew in,” she heard a male voice say.

  As she turned, it was to see Rico reaching out and clasping another guy’s hand and being pulled in for a hug. The other guy was an inch or so taller than Rico, and much broader in the chest and shoulder area. He was also handsome, his skin just a shade darker than Rico’s.

  “When I called you and Renny you both said nothing was going on this weekend,” Rico was saying to the guy when they’d stepped away from each other.

  “Yeah, that’s because we know the art gallery isn’t really the place you like to hang out,” the guy said. “There’s no boardroom here.”

  Rico smirked, but laughed anyway.

  “Alex, I’d like you to meet Eva Miller. Eva, this is my older brother, Alex,” Rico said.

  Eva shook his hand and smiled, seeing the resemblance in their dark eyes and brows, the wavy hair and the strong jaw. “Hello, Alex. It’s nice to meet you.”

  It was nice meeting Rico’s family, even though it shouldn’t have mattered to her at all.

  “No, Eva. I can assure you that the pleasure is all mine,” Alex said after shaking her hand. “This is the first time Rico has ever introduced me to one of his female friends. I feel like it’s a holiday or something.”

  Rico did frown at that, but Eva held her smile in place. “We just met and decided to come here today.”

  Why had she said that?

  “I told her I could introduce her to Renny,” Rico said before she had a chance to try and correct herself.

  “Trying to score some brownie points by saying you know the guy that creates these sexy pieces. I hear you, little brother,” Alex joked.

  “Hey, you guys look to be having way too much fun over here,” another woman—who Eva was glad to see was curvy like her—said.

  She was accompanied by another man who had immediately stared at Eva. His intense gaze made her just a little uncomfortable and she found herself taking a step closer to where Rico was standing.

  “It’s good to see you,” the woman said to Rico as they met for a hug. “Sam didn’t mention you were in town.”

  “We just decided to come to the exhibit this morning,” Eva blurted out. “It wasn’t planned.”

  Everyone stared at her and she wished there was someplace she could hide, she was so embarrassed. What the hell was she doing? Why were these people making her nervous?

  “Ah, this is Eva Miller. Eva, this is Sam and Karena Desdune,” Rico said by way of introduction.

  “And this,” Bree said coming to join them, with her husband in tow. “Is the love of my life and the creator of these magnificent pieces, Mr. Lorenzo Bennett.”

  He was the first to come toward her, his arm outstretched. “Hi, you can call me Renny. I’m glad to see my brother has such great taste in women.”

  Eva’s heart was thumping wildly as she extended her hand to his. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bennett. I really enjoy your work. It’s so dramatic and sexy, but that’s not all, there’s so much depth and emotion in every piece. They just reach out and grab you the moment you see them.”

  “Wow, okay,” Renny said, looking over his shoulder to Rico. “Not only is she pretty as a picture, but she has some art knowledge as well. Good job, bro.”

  “She’s also a very talented painter. Talk about emotional and sexy,” Rico said.

  He had the good sense to look sorry and shrug when she pinned him with a heated glare.

  “Oh, you paint?” Karena asked. “Do you have an agent? Are you showing anywhere now?”

  “It’s not abstract is it?” Bree asked. “I keep trying but I just cannot get into all those lines and shapes and things.”

  Everyone was staring at her and again Eva was uncomfortable. She shouldn’t be, but she was. She didn’t know these people and nobody, besides Kenya and Makai, knew that she painted. Now there were six sets of eyes on her, expecting her to say something, to tell them whatever they wanted to hear she guessed. Nervously, Eva licked her lips and clutched her purse again.

  “I’m not a professional by any means. I just do a little painting here and there in my spare time,” was her response.

  “I’d love to see your work,” Karena said. “We’re always on the hunt for new and undiscovered talent.”

  “New and undiscovered talent? Where?” a tall, punch-in-the-gut sexy woman said as she joined the group.

  Alex slipped an arm around her waist and Eva assumed this was Monica Lakefield, the manager of this gallery.

  “Rico’s girlfriend paints and he says she’s really good,” Karena told her.

  “I’m not his girlfriend.”

  “We’re just friends.”

  Eva and Rico spoke simultaneously.

  “Uh huh, sure,” Bree said sharing knowing glares with the rest of the group. “We’re going to go work the room.”

  “Right,” Karena added. “We are working here. But I meant what I said, Eva. I’d like to see your work. Here’s my card. Maybe we can schedule something this week.”

  “How about tomorrow for brunch?” Monica asked. “If she’s good I don’t want to wait for someone else to snap her up. We can meet at your parents’ restaurant.” Monica nodded towards Sam.

  Karena touched her husband’s arm. “That’s great. Then I can get your mom to watch Elijah since you have that conference call with Trent Donovan,” she told him.

  Sam nodded. “I can call them now and make a reservation.”

  “Wonderful,” Monica said. She pulled out her own business card and slipped a pen from Alex’s inside jacket pocket to write on the back of it. “Here�
�s the address to Lucien’s. They have wonderful beignets. We’ll have some with coffee and look at your work. Tomorrow at eleven thirty. Does that work for you?”

  No. Yes. Well, what the hell?

  “Sure,” Eva ended up saying. “But I don’t really think you’ll be interested.”

  “Nonsense,” Karena said. “Let us be the judge of that. And even if we aren’t impressed, we can still have those delicious beignets.”

  Alex nodded his head with a grin toward Rico. “The beignets are delicious.”

  Rico, who looked as surprised and she’d venture to say, as worried as Eva was, only frowned at his brother in response. “Yeah. They’re delicious alright.”

  #

  This weekend was truly a time for firsts in Rico’s book. Hours after being at the art gallery, watching in quiet amazement as Eva surveyed each one of Renny’s pieces, he was dropping her off at a night club where she worked. As a stripper.

  For a while today, he’d been able to forget what her profession was and concentrate solely on the woman. He found himself really enjoying that woman. The way she smiled, the tone of her voice as she spoke knowledgeably about the art surrounding them to other patrons. She’d even suggested a portrait for an older woman to purchase after a fifteen minute discussion on the colors and the tone of the work. The woman had thanked Eva profusely, telling her she’d be sure to tell the gallery managers how well their staff was trained. Rico had been offended that the woman would have automatically assumed that she was a staff member as opposed to a buyer, or artist herself. But when he said something, Eva had just shrugged and said, “People always see what they want to see when they look at someone. I can’t help if they get it wrong and it’s not my job to convince them otherwise.”

  He’d thought about those words moments after the woman was long gone. Maybe he was a bit naïve, but Rico always presumed people were thinking the right things about him. Especially since he’d made it a point to do the right thing much more often than not. As a young boy he’d quickly learned exactly what his parents had expected of him—to get an education, to work for the family company, to possess integrity and therefore demand respect from his peers. Rico had done just that. He’d gone to the right school—receiving his MBA in Business from Harvard—worked for his father’s company as the chief financial officer, and maintained an impeccable professional and social reputation. Not once, in all his years had he ever veered from the path that he’d known was set before him. He was, he believed, exactly what people thought he was.