by Aria Ford
“I’m saying that I want to stay,” I said with a smile. “I want to stay here and work for Carla. I’m learning so much from her. I’m going to look for a cheap apartment, so I can move out of this hotel and then after my Jeep is fixed, I guess we’ll see what happens.”
Brad grinned and kissed me long and deep. His smile never faded from his lips during the kiss. When we pulled apart, there was hunger in his eyes that I’d grown to recognize. Pulling myself out of bed, I held out my hand to him. He took it and let me lead him to the bathroom.
The shower was scalding hot as it fell over our bodies, fueling our desire. Brad’s lips were on mine in an instant, tasting me and leaving me breathless. By the time we pulled apart, his cock was hard against my leg, and my pussy was dripping with need.
He growled and spun me around, pushing me forward against the shower wall. I supported myself against the tile while he gripped my hips, wasting no time at all. He took me hard and fast, slamming himself against me and rocking my entire body with pleasure.
Like every time before, Brad left me trembling and satiated. My body was more relaxed than it had been in years. After the orgasm washed through us both, we held on to each other and kissed gently until the shower ran cold.
When we climbed out, Brad had to get to the shop, and I planned to spend the day painting. We kissed goodbye, lingering longer than we should have.
“Okay,” Brad said after about twenty minutes. “I really have to go now. I’ll see you later?”
“Yes,” I said with a nod. “You can help me find an apartment.”
“Deal.” He grinned and turned to leave.
My smile never faded as I gathered my art supplies and headed out for the day. There were a few scenes nearby that I’d planned to paint and today seemed like the perfect chance. I settled myself down on a bench, facing out over a barren stretch of land. The only thing on the land was a single cactus plant. I loved its solitude, so I spent the day painting it slowly, making sure to get every detail just right.
Not two minutes after I finished, my phone rang loudly in my bag. Frowning, I pulled it out to see my father’s face dancing across the screen. A heavy weight dropped into my stomach. I knew I couldn’t avoid him, so I took a deep breath and answered.
“Hi, Dad,” I said, keeping my voice light.
“Olivia, I’m in Santa Fe. Where the hell is your car?” he said.
Chapter 17
Brad
It was a busy day at the shop, which was great for business but bad for my mood. My hands were buried deep inside a Volvo’s engine when I heard the distinctive ring of the front door bell. I was in the middle of a tricky repair, so I ignored it. Whoever it was could wait until I finished this. Rex was out for the day, so I was on my own. I normally didn’t like to keep a customer waiting, but my hands were drenched in grease and buried deep inside an engine. If I stopped now, I would have started over from the beginning when I returned.
As I continued working, I heard the front-desk bell chime. I sighed and looked around. From the garage, I could see the outline of a man standing by the front desk. I craned my neck around to look outside. There was a Denali in the parking lot that looked to be a rental. I frowned and looked back at the man, trying to decide if he was worth my time. While I watched him, he rang the bell three more times.
I groaned and yanked my hands out of the Volvo. I hated that damn bell. Ever since Rex bought it, it had become the bane of my existence. Toweling off my hands, I hurried through the door into the office and stepped up to the front desk. My eyes fell on the man’s face, and I inhaled sharply.
He was middle-aged, with dark hair that was peppered with gray. His green eyes were unmistakable. They were the exact shape, size, and color as Olivia’s. I looked at him closer and saw that they not only shared the same eyes but the same mouth and cheeks. This man was obviously Olivia’s father. I was shocked to see him in my shop, so shocked that I didn’t open my mouth to speak for several seconds.
“Um,” I finally said, clearing my throat loudly. “I’m sorry. Busy day. What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for a Jeep Cherokee,” the man said with authority. “My name is Daniel Storm. I’m Olivia’s father.”
“Oh!” I said as if I hadn’t already figured this out. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
“You as well, I’m sure,” Daniel said politely. “I’m here to pay for the Jeep. Is it finished?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Finished it this morning.”
“Excellent,” Daniel said. “Well, I assume you take credit cards?”
I frowned and craned my neck around. The Denali rental was still sitting in the parking lot, and I suddenly wondered if Olivia was hidden behind the tinted windows. I’d seen her just this morning, and she didn’t say a word about her father coming to town. Why would he suddenly arrive to pay for her Jeep? Why now?
“I’ve already set up a payment plan with Olivia,” I said slowly. “Are you sure you want to—”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “I’ll pay for it in full now.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. I wasn’t in the position to refuse a payment, so I took his credit card from him and ran it through the machine. He stared off into the distance while I printed out his receipt. I handed it over to him, along with his card. “If you could just sign this top one for me.”
“Sure,” he said, scribbling his name along the dotted line. “Here you go,”
He handed it back to me and folded his copy into fourths. Tucking it into his back pocket, he looked up at me with that same authoritative expression. It made my stomach churn, but I remained impassive, professional.
From everything Olivia told me about her parents, I already knew I didn’t like this man. It didn’t take a genius to realize this man wasn’t kind or compassionate. His clipped tone and tight lips told me everything I needed to know. No matter how polite he seemed, he was a snake in the grass, and I didn’t appreciate his presence in my shop.
Still, if he was willing to pay for Olivia’s Jeep, then maybe he wasn’t all bad. Maybe he’d finally come to his senses and decide to support his daughter. There was something in his eyes that told me I was wrong. When he opened his mouth to speak again, I knew support wasn’t in his nature.
“There’s a tow truck on the way now,” Daniel said simply. “They’ll pick up the Jeep and transport it back to New York.”
“What?” I asked, unable to stop myself. “But what about Olivia?”
Daniel glared at me with suspicion. He looked me up and down as if he was suddenly seeing me in a different light. I knew this man wasn’t any stupid. My obvious concern for Olivia wasn’t something he could overlook.
“Olivia has disobeyed me and her mother,” he said simply. “We do not support her lifestyle. We offered her a chance to come home and do things the right way: go back to school, study something real, and get a financially stable job. She refused. She insisted on pursuing her art.”
“Because she loves it,” I said without thinking.
“Regardless,” Daniel said shortly. “We will not support her in her frivolous art career. This Jeep was bought for her by me. Now I’m taking it back.”
“But she won’t have a car.” I snapped. “You’re essentially leaving her stranded.”
“That’s not your concern,” Daniel said, his voice devoid of any emotion.
I stared at him in shock. He looked back at me with a blank expression. I wanted to lunge across the counter and throttle him, but I knew that wasn’t an emotion. This man was obviously an uncaring, unsympathetic, sociopath. If he was willing to leave his own daughter stranded in a strange city, then he didn’t have a compassionate bone in his body. Nothing I said to him would change his mind.
So, I fell silent and nodded. He nodded back and walked outside, climbing into his Denali and pulling out of the parking lot. It wasn’t more than five minutes later before a tow truck pulled in and the driver jumped out.
I was still
standing in the office, unable to move after my encounter with Daniel Storm. My anger was boiling just below the surface, and when the tow truck driver asked for the Jeep, I almost punched him.
It took everything in me not to beat the shit out of this innocent man. Instead, I clenched my fists and gestured toward the open garage. The Jeep was sitting at the far end, totally accessible. The driver nodded his thanks and went out to load it up. I watched while he attached the Jeep to his truck and drove it away without another word.
It killed me that I couldn’t do anything to stop him but what choice did I have? If I fought Daniel or the driver, my business would be ruined. I couldn’t risk that, no matter how badly I wanted to. Instead, I just stood there. My fists were still clenched at my sides, and I could feel my heart pounding in my ears. I’d never felt such a strong surge of anger in my life.
I saw red as I slowly made my way back to the garage. I knew I should call Olivia or maybe drive over to the hotel to see her but I couldn’t. I was still too angry, and I didn’t want her to see me this way. The last thing she needed right now was for me to fly off the handle, not after everything she’d already been through.
I threw myself back into my work, driving into the Volvo’s engine and repairing it with lightning speed. While I worked, I didn’t let myself think. I let everything disappear. Olivia. Her father. Her Jeep. Everything. I pounded away in that Volvo until every single repair was done. The sun was beginning to set outside by the time I stood up straight. My back ached, and sweat was pouring down my face, but I didn’t care. I felt better now, more relaxed.
As I cleaned up, washing my hands and putting away all my tools, I thought about Olivia. I wondered if her father even bothered to see her while he was in town. Did he go by her hotel? Is that how he found out where her car was? Or did he take the coward’s way out and simply call her? Was he afraid to face her while simultaneously destroying her life?
What kind of father could just walk away from their child? My anger came rushing back as this question played around and around in my head. Daniel Storm, though rich and powerful, reminded me of my own father. That, more than anything, fueled my anger and drove me forward.
I crashed into the office and quickly locked everything up. I didn’t know what I would do, but I knew I had to do something.
Chapter 18
Olivia
My father’s phone call shook me to my core. He yelled and screamed, which wasn’t anything new, but the finality that he spoke with was enough to shake me. They were done—my parents were done. With me and with my art. They weren’t going to support me in any way if I didn’t agree to go home and start my “real life.” My father raged about how irresponsible I was, how much of a failure I was sure to become.
“You aren’t talented,” he said on the phone. “If you were, this would be a different conversation. Maybe then we would consider helping you, but what’s the point, Olivia? You’re only going to fail.”
“You can’t know that,” I argued weakly.
“I do,” he said. “You’re going to fail. Just come home now. Come back to New York, and we’ll get you back in school. You can still make it as a lawyer or even an accountant.”
His words hurt me more than anything ever had. I knew my parents didn’t support my art career. They never had. But to hear him tell me I would fail was heartbreaking. No matter how many times they yelled and screamed at me, this was the worst.
Part of me wanted to give in, to just let him have his way. Maybe then he would finally be proud of me. Still, I knew I couldn’t do that. I would hate myself forever if I walked away from my dream of becoming an artist. I loved to paint and to sketch. My life was my art. I couldn’t turn my back on it any more than I could magically become someone else. It wasn’t possible and more than that. I didn’t want it to be.
My art was what kept me sane throughout my entire life. When my parents neglected me, I turned to art. I’d been drawing for as long as I could remember, and when I first held a paintbrush, I finally felt at home. This was more than my passion, more than a hobby. It was my entire life, and no matter what my father said, I couldn’t turn my back on it. I just couldn’t.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I’m sorry, Dad. I can’t. I can’t do what you’re asking.”
“Then we won’t help you anymore,” he said simply. “Not with money. Not with anything.”
He hung up the phone, and I broke down on that bench. There were a thousand things I wanted to do, but I didn’t know where to begin. I thought about calling him back and begging him to understand. I even considered calling my mother, but I knew she would have the same response as my father. My mind turned quickly to Brad. I knew he would comfort me, but I wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not while I was still this upset.
Instead, I went to the one person I knew might understand. Carla’s. I wasn’t scheduled to work that day, but it didn’t matter. I needed her wisdom. I needed a fellow artist to reassure me, to promise me everything would be okay.
I walked through the doors, letting the door slam shut behind me. Carla looked up with a smile on her face, ready to greet a customer. When she saw me, the smile faded slightly, and she waved me over.
“What is it?” she asked immediately. “What happened?”
Carla wrapped her arms around my shoulder and led me behind the counter. She held on to me while I told her about my father. I cried and sobbed, letting out every emotion I’d ever felt. She stroked my hair and handed me tissue after tissue while I desperately tried to explain everything that happened.
“I don’t know how it got this bad,” I said through my sobs. “My parents never supported my dreams but this? They didn’t just cut me off financially. They cut me off from everything. From the family. My dad said they won’t do anything for me now—nothing. He said they don’t even want to know me anymore. How could he say that? What kind of father could say that to his only child?”
“A shitty one,” Carla said firmly. “He’s a piece of shit, Olivia. They both are.”
“What am I going to do now?” I asked weakly. “How am I going to make it without a family?”
“You’re going to pick yourself up,” Carla said, wiping my cheek. “And you’re going to channel all these emotions into your work. No matter what happens, you are an artist, Olivia. I see it every single day. Your work is incredible.”
“I don’t know…” I began, but she shook her head firmly.
“Listen to me,” she said. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, sweetheart. A long time. I know talent when I see it, and you are talented. Your father? He’s an idiot. He wouldn’t recognize true potential if it came up and kicked him in the balls.”
I laughed and sniffed, wiping my eyes and letting Carla’s words soothe me. She was right, about my father at least. He wasn’t exactly the artistic type. If he didn’t think I had talent, who cares? He didn’t know anything about it, so why was I letting him get in my head?
I shook myself and groaned deeply. Even before my father called this morning, I knew I would be on my own for a while. They already canceled my credit cards. Financially, I’d been on my own since I arrived in Santa Fe. The only difference was, now I felt alone. I felt like an orphan, wandering around the streets without a family to go home to. That fact, more than anything, was what weakened me. It hit me in the stomach with a painful punch and left me heaving, unable to move forward.
Carla kept stroking my hair and whispering words of encouragement, but I barely heard her. I wanted to believe he was right but it was hard.
A few minutes later, we both jumped when the first door banged open. Looking up, I saw Brad hurrying toward me with a look of concern on his face. The sun was already beginning to set outside the window. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, jumping to my feet.
“Your father came to the garage earlier today,” Brad said quickly. “He paid for the Jeep and then took it with him. He
said he was having it towed back to New York.”
I nodded and sighed, my father had already said as much on the phone. He didn’t say he was going to leave me stranded, but I wasn’t surprised. When the Storms gave up on someone, they really gave up on them.
“I’m sorry,” Brad said desperately. “I didn’t know what to do. I was just so angry that he would do that. I didn’t have a choice. I had to let him take it.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said, reaching for his hand. “This is my father. This is how he does things.”
“Still,” Brad said, “I should have done something, anything, to stop him. He didn’t have the right to take your car!”
“He did,” I said with a nod. “He paid for it.”
“It’s such bullshit,” Brad said angrily.
I smiled and sighed. He was right. It was bullshit, but I had bigger concerns now. Like what I was going to do with the rest of my life.
“I just don’t know where to go from here,” I said softly. “I knew I would be on my own for a while but deep down, I always thought I would have them there to help if things got bad. Like, if I really needed the money, they would provide it. Now that comfort is gone, and all that’s left is me. Just me.”
“You can do this,” Brad said quickly, squeezing my hand. “I know you can.”
“How?” I asked, looking from him to Carla and back again.
“You rely on your talent,” Carla said simply. “You paint with everything you have, and then we’ll display those paintings here. Plus, there’s a local farmer’s market that will let you set up a booth. I’ve sold there a few times myself. You can make pretty good money in just one afternoon.”
“Do you really think I can do that?” I asked. “That I can make a living off my art?”
Carla nodded, and Brad did the same. They both looked at me with a confidence I’d never seen before. No one had ever supported or encouraged me the way they were now. I felt my chest grow warm as I took in their faces, wanting to remember this moment forever.
