by JA Low
“Louis,” Daniel calls for my attention. “I’m worried about you.” I give him a small smile. I know I’m an asshole. I know I am hurting everyone around me. But I just can’t stop the anger. It’s taken over.
“Don’t be,” I warn him. I take another swig of my tequila.
“You can’t keep burying yourself in tequila.”
“The fuck I can.” Daniel lets out an exhausted sigh.
“I’m on your side, Louis.”
“Good. Now leave me the fuck alone. I have masterpieces to produce.” Daniel stands there for a couple more moments in silence.
“Just give her a chance. You two are more alike than you realise.” I take another swig of tequila, the liquid warming my insides. Making my thoughts slow down, blanking out the images of Elisabeth and Yves together that continuously loop around my mind.
“As long as she stays out of my way, then we will be fine,” I grumble, picking up one of my paintbrushes and sticking it into the pot of black paint. I angrily start smearing it across the canvas.
“Fine. I’ll go check on Emily and see if she is okay. Let’s hope she isn’t packing her bags.”
“If she can’t handle it then fire her.” My hand moves rapidly across the canvas. Daniel doesn’t answer me. When I eventually turn around he’s gone. I slump into my chair, with my bottle in my hand, exhausted. I sit and drink until the day blacks out.
8
Emily
Gabriel is helping me with my cuts, I’m sitting on the kitchen bench top as he dabs the antiseptic onto my knees.
“I’m sorry about him.” Daniel’s voice filters through the room. Gabriel steps away looking a little anxious. Daniel walks around and inspects me, a frown falls across his beautiful face. “Are you okay?” I can hear the concern in his voice.
“I’m a clutz. I’m so sorry I burnt Mr. Marchant.”
“You’re not the first person to have thrown a drink on him.” This makes me smile.
“I’ll get him another coffee,” Gabriel adds, quickly moving away.
“Make it a pot, he’s found a bottle of tequila.” My eyes widen. “Don’t worry. You won’t see him for the rest of the day. He’s in one of his moods, but it makes for good art.” I can hear the sadness in Daniel’s voice. “Do you mind if we go have a chat in the office, I’d like to organise his schedule.” He holds out his hand and helps me down from the counter.
We make our way to the office which is just off the living room. “Please take a seat.” I choose one of the tan leather arm chairs to sit in, I sink back into the buttery soft leather, running my hand over the beautiful material. These must have cost a fortune.
“May I just say, I am utterly mortified about my first twenty-four hours on the job.” Daniel looks at me curiously. “I promise you that nothing like this will happen again.” He needs to know I’m serious about this job. A smile forms on Daniel’s face.
“It’s been an interesting start, that’s for sure.” My cheeks bloom with a blush remembering Louis finding me nearly naked in his pool.
“He told you…” Oh crap, Daniel knows about the whole pool incident. He nods giving me a smile. “I wasn’t trying to seduce him.” The words tumble out of my mouth, which shock him.
“Never said you were.”
“He thought last night…” I nervously play with my hands. “I mean, I understand what he saw, but…I’m not one of those girls.”
“One of those girls?”
“Yeah, an art groupie.” Daniel bursts out laughing.
“Art groupie? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Really? I went to university with them. Just like women who try and bag a footballer or a celebrity, these girls want to sleep with the brightest star on the art scene.” I can see Daniel is finding this all very amusing. I really need to shut up, but when I’m nervous I babble and really say the wrong thing at the wrong time making it even more awkward than it already is.
“I never thought you were one of those women. Louis was not meant to have been here, but as you might suspect he has trust issues, especially with women.” I nod my head in agreement and I totally understood why; betrayal by the closest person to you will do that. “You did nothing wrong. The amount of times I have jumped into that pool in my underwear well…” Now I’m thinking about Daniel in his underwear, my face burns even brighter. “Look, Louis is difficult at the best of times, but with his divorce finalised last week and…” Daniel takes a deep breath and lets out a heavy sigh when he continues, “…with him just giving her whatever she wanted, he’s not in a good place.” That doesn’t seem fair, she's the one that betrayed him. “I’m not asking you to cut him some slack…”
“But cut him some slack.”
Daniel chuckles. “Yeah. I’m hoping things improve.” I can see it on his face he isn’t so sure. “Anyway, let’s discuss your job and then I have to get back to Paris to look after my other artists.”
Daniel left hours ago and I have been going through all of Louis’ private messages on his social media pages. The amount of body parts I have seen is mind boggling. Who thinks sending a stranger images of your most intimate parts is a good idea? The desperation of these women offering Louis themselves is really sad.
There’s a knock at the office door. Looking out the window I notice how dark it’s become.
“Sorry to disturb you.” Gabriel smiles. “I just thought I’d let you know that I took some food to Louis in the studio. He was passed out, but I know when he wakes he’ll be hungry.” A frown falls across my brow; he’s passed out drunk already. That’s not good. “And I’ve left you some dinner, it’s in the oven.”
“Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad Daniel hired you, I think you’re going to be good for him.” Gabriel’s comment makes me smile.
“As long as I don’t spill hot coffee on him.” He chuckles.
“He kind of deserved it after this morning.” I smile.
“Good night, Emily.”
“Good night, Gabriel.”
“Emily.” Gabriel pops his head back into the office. I look up at him. “What that woman said to you today. She’s wrong. I think you look perfect the way you are.” My stomach flip flops over Gabriel’s remarks.
“You just want me to keep eating your croissants.”
“Of course.” He smirks.
“Thank you, Gabriel. I appreciate it.” He gives me a salute and disappears.
A little while later, my stomach rumbles and I take it as my cue to go grab something to eat. I shut the laptop down, roll my shoulders back and click my neck. I’m not used to being hunched over a computer all day but it beats standing on my feet for nine hours. Walking back into the kitchen, I pull out the roast chicken and vegetables Gabriel left in the oven. Grabbing myself a soft drink from the fridge I decide to go and sit outside in the garden, it’s another beautiful night. The pool looks inviting but tonight I won’t be jumping into it. I’ve learned that lesson. I take a seat and see the light is on in Louis’ studio. Should I check on him? No. I’m not his babysitter, but I am his assistant and shouldn't I be assisting? Ugh. I’ll check on him after dinner. I take the first bite of my chicken and it’s amazing.
It doesn’t take me long to gobble down my dinner, I take my dishes back to the kitchen, wash them up and head on over to Louis’ studio before I head to my room for the evening. There is music playing, I knock on the door, but he probably can’t hear me. I open the door slowly and make my way in. Oh shit. I’m glued to the spot. There’s Louis sitting on a paint splattered lounge, his tanned hand fisting himself, his eyes are closed, primal grunting falls from his lips. Then the floorboards creek. Shit. I’m busted.
9
Louis
I’ve watched the day turn from yellow to orange then to black and still I am staring at the canvas and nothing is coming out. The tequila certainly wasn't helping, I passed out for a little while. But when I came to, my head pounding, my eyes bloodshot, and everything that I ha
d been trying to drown out comes flooding back in technicolor. Thankfully, Gabriel dropped off something to eat before he finished for the day to help soak up the alcohol. I pull out my phone, and I know what I am doing is a slippery slope, but I’m desperate, desperate for my daily hit. I unlock it and pull up her account. God she is beautiful. I stare at her face, trying to remember what it felt like, how she felt, hoping and praying that through the phone screen she can bring back some of my magic that she took away. There’s a photo of her at the beach, she’s dressed in the skimpiest of bikinis, her large breasts almost spilling out of the black fabric. Her skin is sun kissed, and I know that she has an all over tan because she hates the lines. My dick twitches to life thinking about her curves, remembering every inch of her glorious body. I pull out my dick, this is what I need. I feel dirty jerking off to an image of my ex-wife but I just want to feel something, anything again, and if this is the only way then dammit I am going to do it. My hand slides over me as I try and remember the way she felt against my skin, her smell, her warmth. The scent of roses filters through the window, changing the image of my ex to my assistant emerging from the pool. My dick instantly turns hard, something that usually takes me awhile to do recently, the ache filling me takes over. My mind conjures up images of Emily in her simple white cotton underwear. I imagine licking the stray droplets of water off her creamy white skin. Down between her breasts, across those dusty pink nipples, my teeth sinking into her flesh, her head falling back in ecstasy. My hand moves quicker along my dick, now this is fucked up, the scenario currently running through my mind isn’t right, but it just won’t stop. The image of her dropping to her knees and taking me into her mouth, just like she saw that girl do to me last night. I’d wrap my hand around her wet hair and make sure she takes me all in, choking on me, bringing tears to her eyes but knowing that she is loving every minute of it as she hums in appreciation, like a good girl does. There’s something about her that gets under my skin. She is equal parts fragile and strong. Situations where she looks like she is seconds away from bolting, instead she is dishing it right back to me. Last night was a dick move, the party, letting a girl give me head in front of her, but I was frustrated, I was angry and I was horny. I don’t know why this woman makes me pissed off and frustratingly horny at the same time. She has me all confused and messed up. Not going to lie, having her watch me last night was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen, then she comes out with a fucking score card. Pushing me. Daring me. I wanted to stalk up to her room and spank her creamy white ass until it was the same colour pink as her fucking nipples. My fist chokes my cock harder, I’m brutally jerking myself, angry that I am letting this girl mess with my head. She’s just my assistant. She’s just an employee, she’s no one special. Yet when I look at her I see colour again. The outer edges of my dark world have the faintest glow of light around it. This pisses me off even more. Because I know what this means. I’m going to fight it. I’m going to fight it so hard because she is not what I want. I continue to choke my dick to images of her.
A floorboard creaks in my studio, my head whips around in its direction, pulling me from my fucked up fantasy. Reality hitting me with a fucking sledgehammer as I see the woman in my mind staring back at me in the flesh. Those emerald eyes sparkling with shock, embarrassment and a tiny, ever so tiny, portion of curiosity. Is she the kind of woman that likes watching her partner jerk off over her? No. I bet this English rose has to have the lights out when she sleeps with someone. The sheets pulled tight around her. I bet she doesn’t know how to let go. To fuck with abandonment. Why do I want to show her? You have to still be drunk, Louis. These thoughts are not normal. Her pink mouth is wide open, those apple cheeks are flushed the perfect pink, reminding me of her hardening nipples that are poking through her white t-shirt. Looks like she might like what she sees. This isn’t good, my hand won’t stop. Why should it? She is the one who has interrupted me, interrupted my alone time, maybe next time she’ll know to knock when she enters my studio. I’m close, so fucking close, I can’t stop. Slowly, Emily retreats back out the door she came through.
I look up at the ceiling feeling like an utter bastard. This isn’t me. I tuck myself away. I’m sure this borders on sexual harassment, she’ll probably sue me. Maybe she did it on purpose, thinking it would be a perfect pay day for her, she has enough witnesses to be on her side. I angrily pull open the studio door and see her running across the grass.
“Emily stop,” I scream at her. I’m expecting her to flip me off, curse me, keep running but she doesn’t. I jog quickly toward her. Her cheeks are flushed, her green eyes wide with fear as she’s unable to look at me. Shit. As I slow down to stand in front of her, I notice her arms are wrapped around her as if trying to protect herself from me. Is she now sacred of me? I know I’m an asshole but…shit. I run my hands through my hair. I’ve never had a woman scared of me before.
“Emily.” Her name falls from my lips slowly so I don’t spook her.
“Mr. Marchant.” Now is not the time to be thinking that sounds hot. “I’m so sorry. I knocked but the music was on.” She’s still looking at the ground. “I just thought maybe you needed something…” That gets her to look at me, her eyes widening as she realises how suggestive that sounded. “I mean…shit.” She curses which makes me smile. “I mean to see if you needed anything professionally speaking not…” She waves her hands in the direction of my crotch area.
“Not?” Now I’m teasing.
She’s flustered, which makes me want to keep teasing her. “I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to seduce you.” Her back straightens up as she pushes her embarrassment to the side. “I’m not trying to seduce you.” She almost shouts the words at me. It makes me burst out laughing. She frowns “What’s so funny?”
“That you think you could seduce me.” Her eyes widen in surprise. “You know who I am, don’t you?” Her face turns red and not from embarrassment but anger.
“I know exactly who you are.”
“Then you know that you…” My eyes look her up and down before I go on, “…are not my type.” She sucks in an audible breath.
“That’s good, because I don’t make a habit of sleeping with washed up artists.” Her eyes widen and she quickly covers her mouth, shocked at what she has just said. She should be, I’m her fucking boss. My gaze narrows on her.
“You think I’m washed up?” She shakes her head; words seem to fail her at this moment. A long silence falls between us. “But I am.” The truth falls from my lips. “Look at me. I’m a drunk.” Emily looks up at me, her face softening a little “I’ve lost my muse.” Why am I telling her this? Her face softens even more at that confession. Daniel seems to think she knows art, so I’m hoping that she understands exactly what that means. “I can’t paint anymore. I mean I can paint, just not like I used to. Not like everyone wants me to.” Silence falls between us. I’ve utterly embarrassed myself now, ripping open my wound to a stranger. Her hand comes out and rests on my arm.
“Sometimes you need to seek the darkness to find the light.” Her words resonate with me, that’s where I am at the moment, in the darkness, but I don’t know if I will ever see the light again or even if I want to.
“I’m so far in the darkness, Emily, I can’t get out.” She frowns.
“Maybe it won’t happen today or tomorrow, but one day soon you will push through.”
“It’s been four months and I am just as hurt, just as angry as the day it all happened. She left me for a better, newer, younger version of this washed up artist.”
“Louis.” She says my name on a whisper and I hear the pity behind it.
“No. I don’t want your fucking pity.” I pull my arm away from her. I don’t like that look on her face, the one that is full of sympathy, I don’t want that from her. I want to see those cheeks flushed again, I want her anger, I want her pissed off emerald glare. I need it. I crave it. “Next time knock. Because if I see you again when my dick is in my hand I’m goi
ng to assume you want it.” Emily takes a step back from me, putting distance between us. Yeah that was a little too far, Marchant. I turn on my heel and storm off back toward the main house before I say anything else. I grab a bottle of wine from the cupboard in the kitchen and stomp up to my room, I need to erase this caesium that’s opened up in my chest from telling her things I shouldn’t have.
10
Emily
“Do you do any work?” Louis storms into the kitchen, catching Gabriel and I laughing together over breakfast. Louis has become moodier and moodier this week since his late night confession. He showed me a vulnerable side to him that night, showed me how hurt he truly is over Elisabeth and Yves, and he was right, I did pity him. Because I realised that I wasn't that upset over Toby. That I wasn’t missing him, pining for him, I don’t even think my heart is broken anymore, and I kind of think that is sad. Maybe I never loved Toby. Not like Louis loved Elisabeth. Maybe I should be losing my shit and going all Godzilla on everyone, maybe that’s what true love is. I can’t even remember what Toby smells like, even his voice is fading from memory. After five years shouldn’t those things stay with you? I mean it’s only been three weeks since we broke up. It’s not very long, yet it feels like Toby is so in the past that he isn’t even relevant anymore.
