Always in My Heart

by A. C. Arthur

  She had opened the door by that point and turned partially so that she could look at him. Rico’s hands fisted at his sides as he noticed, as if for the first time, how sad she actually looked.

  “Can you hear yourself? You may not be saying the word ‘prostitute’, but what you’re suggesting would sure as hell make me feel like one. Goodbye, Rico.”

  The door closed and she was gone before Rico took his next breath.

  Chapter 7

  Eva didn’t touch the beignets even though they looked and smelled delicious. She was afraid her topsy-turvy stomach would reject the doughy treats the moment she chewed and swallowed. She sipped her mimosa instead, slowly, but surely.

  Monica Lakefield had already unzipped Eva’s portfolio. The portfolio she’d hastily put together this morning. Years ago Makai had given her a leather carrier for Eva to transport her paintings, but she’d never taken them anywhere. They all sat in her room, propped against the wall in stacks she’d organized by theme. Or rather moods—because painting had always served a therapeutic purpose for her, she categorized them by whichever mood she was in when she painted them. The pictures of her paintings she’d chosen to show the Lakefield sisters were a mixture of happy, sad and content.

  The older Lakefield sister had perfectly manicured nails and one gorgeous diamond ring sparkling from a finger on her right hand. So Monica and Alex were dating, but not engaged. That was something to know, Eva thought as she waited, less than impatiently, for her to speak.

  “How long have you been painting?” Karena asked.

  Eva cleared her throat and scooted closer to the table. “I’d always enjoyed art class in school and after my parents could no longer pay for the formal dance classes, I went back to painting with my water colors and looking at the art magazines I checked out of the library. I was thirteen then. I began painting seriously—I mean every day—when I turned fifteen.” Because she didn’t have a boyfriend like the rest of the girls in her class. Painting, once again, filled a void.

  “So you’ve had no formal training in art? No classes, no mentors. Nothing,” Karena continued.

  She was looking at two pictures, one of a man and woman in the midst of a dance routine. The woman was arching backward while the man held her arms, the soft pastel colors blended together like a muted rainbow. Eva had painted this one when she was feeling content.

  “Nothing,” Eva said. “I know they’re not polished or professional. That’s why I hadn’t bothered to show them to anyone. That and I just never had the time to sit and research who I should be showing them to.” She clapped her lips shut as she felt like she might be babbling.

  Monica held up a picture, staring long and hard at it. When she slipped it back into the portfolio she looked candidly at Eva.

  “I can give you the name of an art agent because you should not be negotiating your own contracts and sales,” she said.

  Her hair was cut in a sleek asymmetric bob that fit her cool and aloof demeanor as well as the pale gray pantsuit and Stuart Weitzman pumps. Karena had a more subdued look. While just as pretty and intelligent as her sister, she wore a navy blue sweater pencil skirt and a white turtleneck, but her shoes were a fun and whimsical denim material platform that matched the bangle bracelet on her arm. For the first few seconds of their meeting Eva had felt a little under-dressed in her black leggings, coral tank top and thigh length black jacket. She wore red patent leather sandals and carried a red clutch with her portfolio.

  “An agent?” Eva asked, bringing herself back to the conversation. “I’ve never thought of getting an agent.”

  Karena smiled at her. “You’re gonna need one,” she said. “Because we love these paintings.

  “I really like this one,” Monica said tapping the portfolio that leaned against the wall their table was near.

  Eva knew exactly which painting Monica was referring to. It was one that Eva had painted after a night at the club. She hadn’t been able to sleep, still revved up from dancing three sets in one night. She’d collected twenty-seven hundred dollars in tips that night and was feeling pleased with herself, even though some drunken idiot had reached out and grabbed her tit during the third set. Nadja and her crew of bouncers had not only tossed his ass out of the club, but Eva heard that they’d given him a pretty good beating as a warning for the next time he tried to get touchy-feely.

  “I had a lot of energy that night,” Eva told her.

  “You paint with your emotions,” Monica said nodding her head. “It shows. No, it practically screams through every one of your paintings. Whatever you were feeling is right there on paper for all to see, without really seeing you.”

  Eva felt uncomfortable at the quick and acutely accurate assessment.

  “We’d like to show your paintings at the gallery,” Karena said. “The sooner you get in touch with the agent Monica’s going to refer you to, the sooner we can work on dates and look through all of your paintings to select which ones will be best for the show.”

  “What? Wait a minute,” Eva said her hands shaking as she set them flat on the table. “You want to show my work? You’re serious?”

  “Yes, we are,” Monica answered as she was reaching into her purse to pull out her wallet.

  After a few seconds of searching Monica retrieved a card and handed it to Eva. “Her name’s Marsha Madigan and she’s superb. She’s so good I don’t like dealing with her sometimes, but you need the very best in your corner.”

  Eva took the card, still not believing what they’d just said.

  “You’re very talented, Eva. And now we owe Rico a dinner or something in thanks for bringing you to us,” Karena was saying as she wiped her fingers and chewed the last of her beignet.

  She’d put the pictures she was looking at back in the portfolio while Eva had been staring like an idiot at Monica giving her the agent’s business card.

  “We’re just friends. I didn’t ask him to bring me there to meet you. Actually, he didn’t even tell me he knew the owners of the gallery. Just that Lorenzo was his brother,” she said, again fearing she was talking too much.

  “Really?” Karena asked. She lifted a brow as she glanced at her sister who simply shook her head and pulled out her phone to begin looking at her calendar. “So you and Rico aren’t dating? Because I could have sworn I caught some type of vibe between you two. Definitely a romantic connection.”

  Eva shook her head immediately. “No romance. No, ah, nothing. I just met him on Friday, which is another reason I’m finding it hard to digest all this. It’s happening so quickly.”

  “Well,” Karena said as she picked up her glass. “I believe in love at first sight.”

  Monica cut in with, “What’s your availability this week, Eva? I’d like to look at all of your work on canvas to see if we can formulate a theme for the showing. If you call Marsha today—I just sent her an email telling her that I’m referring a new client, so she’s waiting for your call. Once you talk to her, I know Marsha will be calling me first thing tomorrow morning, so I want to have some dates and ideas ready. She’ll want to see your work in person, but I’m betting she’ll try to meet with you today also. I hope you’re available.”

  Her tone was efficient and no nonsense. This was what she did for a living and it impressed the hell out of Eva.

  “Ah, I’m ah, I work at night. I have a real job, I mean. Painting has been a hobby all these years. So yes, I’m available during the day, any day this week,” Eva replied.

  “Oh you work at night,” Karena said. “I could never do that. Especially now that I have Elijah. I’d miss his midnight bathroom runs and questions. What do you do, Eva? In your real job, I mean.”

  Eva paused. It seemed that everyone in the restaurant went silent, as if they too wanted to hear the answer to that question. Monica had even stopped typing on her phone to look at Eva expectantly for a response. What was she supposed to say? Should she lie? Would they care? How was she supposed to handle this?

  Was t
his the real reason why she’d never tried to be a full-time artist? Was she afraid that the two worlds she’d immersed herself in would mix like oil and water?

  “I’m a dancer at the TEASE nightclub,” Eva replied before she could ask herself another question, or make another excuse.

  It was the truth and it was out there for these two sisters to deal with in whatever way they saw fit.

  “You’re a—”

  “A dancer,” Karena said cutting her sister off while her smile spread. “That’s why you paint dancers. There’s our exhibit theme, Monica. We can call it ‘Shall We Dance’.”

  Monica’s lips pursed and after a few heart stopping seconds, she smiled as well. “I like it. What do you say, Eva? Shall we dance?”

  Monica lifted her mimosa for a toast. Karena immediately followed suit. Eva, who was still trying to figure out if all of this was real, picked up her glass and moved it to the center of the table until it clinked with the other two.

  “I think we shall,” was her response, and then she sipped her mimosa and laughed. A giddy and excited laugh that she’d never heard from herself before.

  #

  “Since when do you pay for company?” Alex asked about two seconds after he and Renny walked through the door of Rico’s hotel room.

  “What?” Rico asked, when he’d managed to open both his eyes and realize that his brothers were there and he was standing at the door in his boxers and t-shirt.

  “Close the door before you catch a cold,” Renny said with a chuckle. “You never were a morning person.”

  He wasn’t. For as ambitious and studious as Rico could be, he had always hated getting up early in the morning, especially on weekends. During the week he had his alarm clock by his nightstand and the alarm on his cell phone to wake him. Last night, or rather sometime in the early morning hours he’d been so pissed off that he didn’t want any contact with anyone, so he’d turned off his cell phone. He’d fallen onto the hotel’s king-sized bed and lay there until sleep had finally claimed him. After closing the door and walking over to the couch where he plopped down with a groan, he figured that couldn’t have been more than two hours ago.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “It’s two in the afternoon,” Alex told him. “I hope you requested a late check-out.”

  He hadn’t, Rico thought with another sigh. He was certain the hotel had already happily charged him for another night’s stay.

  “Damn. I was supposed to be home by now,” he grumbled.

  “Long night with Eva?” Renny asked.

  That was the last name he wanted to hear. Especially since it was the only name he’d heard all night.

  “Is that what you came all the way over here to ask me? If I got laid last night?” Rico asked, unable and pretty much unwilling to hide the fact that he was groggy as hell.

  “No. We’re here to find out why our esteemed brother hired a stripper to spend the weekend with him,” Alex announced.

  Rico was instantly awake, sitting up and staring over to where his older brother stood. Renny was lounged in one of the other chairs in the room, while Alex had a hand thrust into one pocket of his pants glaring down at Rico.

  “Who told you that?” he asked, trying like hell to keep his voice even.

  “Monica called me the minute she and Karena wrapped up their meeting with Eva,” Alex said.

  “They loved her work, by the way,” Renny said as he used his finger to swipe over his cell phone. “Bree just texted me a few pictures that Karena took during the meeting. She’s really talented. Her paintings just about speak to you through every movement.”

  Rico sighed. “I know.”

  “You know she’s a stripper and you paid her to spend the weekend with you, or you know that she paints with good movement?” Alex pressed.

  Rico stood then, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m not having this conversation in my underwear,” he told them before walking out of the room.

  “Thank goodness,” Renny quipped.

  Alex still stood brooding. He walked over to the bar and fixed himself a glass of water. When Rico returned he was sitting down across from Renny, glass half emptied.

  “You ready to talk now?” Alex asked.

  “First,” Rico began as he finished pulling a second shirt over the tank he’d slept in, “I didn’t pay her to do anything.”

  He’d put on a pair of sweatpants as well and now sat back down on the couch. “And I didn’t know she was a stripper when I met her.”

  “Where’d you meet her?” Renny asked.

  Rico frowned, knowing this wasn’t going to go over well, but not bothering to lie in any case. “At a sex club.”

  “You went to a sex club?” Alex asked, the look on his face saying he didn’t believe it.

  Rico nodded. “Your friend was the one that invited me. Well, Jackson’s brother gave me the complimentary pass. Apparently he owns stock in this place. It’s called The Corporation and they cater to any and every need you could have. I went there with the hope of relieving some stress.”

  Renny chuckled. “I’ll bet you did.”

  Alex gave his younger brother an irritated glare. “So you went to a sex club and you found a stripper. I guess that makes sense.”

  No, it didn’t, Rico thought. Nothing between him and Eva made any sense at all.

  “Look, she’s a nice woman and a great artist. That’s all that matters,” Rico told them. “I’m gonna get a shower and head out in the next hour.”

  “And what about Eva?” Renny asked. “Any plans to see her again?”

  “No,” Rico replied immediately. “This was just a weekend thing. Tomorrow I’ll be back to work and your entertainment will be over.”

  Chapter 8

  One Week Later

  “You said this wasn’t a big deal,” Alex stated when he marched into Rico’s office late on a Thursday afternoon. “You said you’d just met her and had no plans to see her again. That it didn’t matter that she was a damn stripper!”

  Rico had looked up from his computer to see his brother enter his office and heard him slam the door behind him. Now, Alex was standing on the other side of his desk, slapping a piece of paper stapled to an envelope and enclosed in a plastic bag down on his desk.

  “What the hell are you talking about now, Alex? And what’s this?” Rico asked picking up the plastic bag.

  “That’s what I want you to tell me. What the hell happened in New York last week?”

  It was well after seven and truth be told Rico probably should have left the office hours ago. Every night this week he’d been here until at least nine. He’d go home, shower, heat something in the microwave for dinner and fall into bed. The next day he would start all over again. It had become a purposeful routine. Only now his eyes were feeling grainy he was so tired of reading ledgers and reports and staring at his computer. The last thing he felt like doing was trying to read through a plastic bag. Yet, something caught his eye immediately—her name.

  Eva.

  Rico read the entire note.

  “Turn it over,” Alex directed as he finally dropped into one of the guest chairs.

  There were two pictures, one of Eva dancing in that red outfit and the other of him and Eva standing outside the club that same night.

  Rico cursed. He tossed the plastic bag across his desk and rubbed his hands down his face.

  “We’re not paying her a dime. She’s pissed off because I didn’t accept her proposition for a threesome that night,” Rico told Alex. “It’s all bullshit!”

  Alex was rubbing a finger over his chin, as he stared at his brother.

  “The letter sounds like you did take her up on her offer,” he said.

  “Oh come on, Alex! Do you really believe I’d agree to a threesome? What the hell type of person do you think I am?” Rico exploded.

  “I don’t know, man. Why don’t you tell me?” Alex shook his head. “Because the brother I know would never have paid for female
companionship. Hell, my little brother changed women about as often as he changed the battery in his smoke detector. I can’t tell you when the last time I’ve even heard of you going out on a date, let alone seeing a woman you were with. But I did see this Eva person with you on Saturday and I’ve gotta say you two looked pretty cozy to have just met.”

  Scrubbing his hands over his face gave Rico the few seconds he needed to rein in the heated words he wanted to say. How could Alex sit here and essentially say he had no idea what to expect from him? He was his brother and Rico had never given anyone in his family cause to question him. Ever.

  “I didn’t pay for her,” he said slowly, letting his hands fall down to rest on the desk blotter once again.

  “But you went to a sex club looking for someone to pay for,” Alex stated in a tone that matched the way he brokered a business deal. “So why didn’t you pay for her? If that’s what both of you were clearly there for?”

  “That’s not how it was,” Rico insisted.

  He knew he wasn’t explaining himself and hell, he shouldn’t have to. Alex should have trusted what he said, regardless of the fact that he’d admitted Eva was a stripper.

  “Look, I’m a grown man, Alex. I can do whatever I want, when I want. Especially with my own money.”

  When it looked like Alex was about to say something in rebuttal, Rico simply shook his head.

  “There’s never been a day that I haven’t taken this family into account. Everything I do, everything I’ve ever done has been with the company and our family in mind,” he continued, telling the absolute truth. Rico had thought so much about his family that there were times he barely considered his own wants or feelings.