Heartache

by Danielle Allen

  She spun on her heel and walked off. My gaze momentarily landed on her ass before I turned to face Brad.

  “What?” Brad feigned innocence as he shrugged his shoulders. “You and B are always flirting with each other. It’s only a matter of time.”

  I shook my head. “Are you drunk already?”

  “No, not yet. I’m saving that for later tonight. But let’s be honest, B’s hot. She’s a little curvier than I typically go for, but she’s still hot. I mean, if she dropped like twenty pounds—”

  “Are you serious?” I interrupted, infuriated. I took a step back. “Walk away. Just walk away, Easy.”

  Looking at my lifelong best friend, I felt myself frowning. Inexplicably, I wanted to beat the shit out of him. What is wrong with him?

  “I didn’t mean any disrespect.” Brad ran his fingers through his blonde hair. “She’s sexy. She’s hot. And her personality is killer. She talks shit with the best of us. Honestly, if you don’t go for her, I probably will. I wouldn’t mind giving her—”

  “Don’t disrespect her like that again. Do you understand me?” I grumbled in a low, menacing tone. I was louder than I intended to be and I had to take a breath. My eyes danced around the room to make sure our conversation wasn’t overheard before glaring at him. “Are we clear?”

  “Crystal.” He ran his hands through his hair again before he slapped my back good naturedly. “I’m sorry. Maybe she’s right. Maybe this is why I don’t have any female friends,” he continued, reflectively.

  “It could possibly be your drinking problem.”

  He smiled easily, holding his arms at his sides. “I don’t see a problem with my drinking.”

  “Of course you don’t jackass.”

  “Ouch!” He put his hand to his chest as if I wounded his heart. “I just came over here to tell you that I’m going to go to your place and make sure everything is set up the way it is supposed to be for the get-together. Malik is my designated driver so is it cool if you get B to drive you home?”

  “I drove myself. I’ll be fine. I shouldn’t need a ride to my place. Actually, I’m still trying to wrap my mind around how this celebration moved from your house to mine.”

  Brad chuckled. “I guess I caught you on a good day. See you when you get there.”

  Easy needs an intervention, I thought as soon as Brad cut through the thinning crowd.

  Suddenly my eyes landed on a woman talking emphatically to someone as she pointed at a painting. She was dressed in a tight black one-piece outfit that hugged her body in all the right places. The way her body stretched as she pointed to the darkest part of the painting was lissome. Although I admired the sensual curve of her ass and her long legs, I was truly captivated by the graceful lines of her body.

  I really do make everything into a subject to be painted, I thought ruefully as I tore my eyes away from the woman.

  “Hi, thank you for coming,” I said to a group of art professors as they headed toward the exit. Charlotte stood by the door with her ever present notebook. Before I could see what she was giving them, I was approached by someone else.

  A string of people walked up to me, shaking my hand, congratulating me. Every step I took, I was met with another well-wisher and I thanked them for attending my event. By the time the room had almost cleared out, I saw Bianca standing near the exit talking to the woman in the one-piece outfit that I’d noticed earlier.

  Without the crowd filling the room, I could see more of her even though she was on the opposite end of the room. Making my way across the room, I took in her jet black hair that just dusted her shoulders with an edgy cut. I eyed the gentle slope of her nose and her full lips.

  My heart dropped as the familiarity sank in.

  Tia, I thought as I came to a complete stop. I shook my head to clear the name and memory associated with it. It couldn’t have been her. It was an impossibility.

  “Now that everyone is gone, I need to discuss something with you. Give me a minute,” Charlotte demanded, her tone curt. The pit in my stomach grew as her tone settled onto the raw emotions that were coursing through me.

  Well, this can’t be good, I thought, grabbing a cocktail from the waiter stand and following her to Monroe’s office.

  Closing the door behind us, Charlotte said nothing as she sat behind Monroe’s desk. She opened her briefcase and pulled out the notebook she’d had with her the entire night and a folder. She reclined back in the leather chair and looked up at me. Her fingers drummed against the surface of the notebook and her face gave nothing away. I squared my jaw in an attempt to mask the nerves I felt. Everything I’d worked for came down to an impromptu post-event meeting with Charlotte Spence and her fucking notebook.

  “This won’t take long. I have a flight to catch and I believe you have a party to attend.” She flipped through her notebook before returning her gaze to me. “Roman, you are talented. I’ve been at this a long time. When I looked at your portfolio, I knew you showed promise. I looked at your work when I arrived and you again proved your talents. But, talent doesn’t always translate into success. Talent doesn’t always translate into marketability or financial gain. That’s just the business.”

  The silence enveloped the room and I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Gripping my hand around the glass, I ran my other hand over my jaw and waited. I mentally planned to contact the school about teaching summer classes when she broke the silence.

  “I estimated you would sell half. Half is good. Half is what some of the more established artists sell.” She turned the notebook around so I could read it easily and gestured to the numbers on the page. “You sold everything. At full asking price.”

  “What?”

  She turned her book around and opened the folder with the same information. “This is yours to take with you. Review it. It’s the contact information for each buyer and the information regarding each sale. Each of these people are expecting a call tomorrow. Review this information and let me know how you wish to proceed. We will talk more tomorrow. Now go, celebrate with your friends.”

  “What?” I repeated, still unable to believe what I was hearing.

  Standing, Charlotte put her notebook back into her briefcase. “I will give you a minute to absorb this information, Roman.” Picking up the folder, she walked around the desk and placed it in my hand. “Take this with you. Congratulations. You have a very successful career ahead of you.”

  My mouth was agape. Holy shit.

  “Now, go have fun at your party with your friends. But not too much fun. I meant what I said earlier. I don’t represent criminals or anyone who has heavy involvement with the police. You’d be surprised how hard it is to sell a newly established artists’ work to the upper echelon if the artist has a lot of drama surrounding him,” Charlotte continued, opening the door and walking through it.

  “No drama, got it.” I also managed to choke out a ‘thank you’ as I followed behind her in a daze.

  Not even bothering to look for Monroe or Meredith, my eyes focused on Bianca standing at the door of Art House on her cell phone. Putting the glass to my lips, I gulped down the cocktail. Leaving my empty glass on the first surface I passed, I continued toward Bianca.

  Without looking back at me, Charlotte gave a curt nod to Bianca and exited the building. I came to a stop a few steps in front of her and gestured toward the door before grabbing the handle and opening it for her.

  “Hey, let me call you back,” Bianca quickly said into her cellphone before ending the call. After walking through the door, she looked over at me with wide eyes. Concern wrinkled her forehead. “What happened?”

  I ran my hand down my face again and let out a noisy breath. I took my eyes off of her long enough to look down at the folder I was clutching. Our eyes met again and Bianca looked even more worried than before.

  “What happened?” she repeated, chewing on the corner of her lip nervously. I’d never realized she did that until that exact moment. My eyes fixated on her mouth
as I tried to gather my thoughts.

  “Roman.”

  I looked from her plump lips to her brown eyes. “Everything sold.” I could hear the disbelief in my voice. I cleared my throat and repeated myself, “Everything.”

  “Oh my God! Are you serious? Oh my God!” Screaming, Bianca threw her hands in the air before throwing her arms around me.

  I hugged her back and laughed. With each of her screams, the reality of what happened hit me.

  “I knew it! I knew it!” She backed away from me and grinned. “I fucking knew it, Ro! You did it. Tell me everything.”

  Without thinking, I walked her to her car as I told her about the entire night. From arriving to a sold out event to dodging personal questions to the meeting with Charlotte in Monroe’s office, I processed everything that had happened over the last three hours. It wasn’t until we turned onto my street that I realized I was so caught up in recounting everything that I had accepted a ride home.

  “I’m losing it right now. I didn’t mean for you to drive me home.”

  “Really?” Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed. “Easy specifically asked me to bring you tonight because you had been drinking.”

  I shook my head as I climbed out of Bianca’s car. “I specifically told him I was going to drive myself. But that was before the last beer I had.” I let out a frustrated sigh before I decided I wasn’t going to let Easy kill my vibe. “You know what, I just killed my first legit showcase. I need to celebrate with drinks in my system.”

  “I have it on good authority that Easy and Malik went and picked up that whiskey you like.”

  “And that must be why I keep those two around,” I joked as we approached the front door.

  “Hey!” Malik called out from the street as he jogged over to us. “Answer your damn phone, man! Easy told me you needed a ride so I went to Art House, only to have Monroe’s assistant tell me you left with B.”

  He’s up to something, I thought instantly. Why else would he have two people try to give me a ride home?

  Bumping fists with him, I told him the truth. “I was going to drive myself home and then I got caught up talking to B and ended up in her car. I don’t know what Easy is thinking. He was drunk earlier. I don’t care what he says. I know when his ass is drunk.”

  “Well tonight, let’s celebrate and you two can talk to your bone-headed asshole of a friend tomorrow,” Bianca instructed.

  “Speaking of, let me go get the good stuff out of the trunk,” Malik said before walking off.

  Unlocking the door, I stood back and allowed Bianca to walk in first. Closing the door behind us, something in the corner caught my eye. Even though I didn’t see anything, I grabbed Bianca’s wrist and pulled her behind me. She winced in pain and giving her an apologetic look, I put my finger to my lips to keep her quiet.

  Although Easy wasn’t a bad guy, he was loud as hell all of the time, even when he was by himself. The eerie quiet made me suspicious.

  Slowly, I approached the living room. “Easy? Easy!” I barked, taking tentative steps.

  “Surprise!” Brad yelled alongside at least fifty other people, including a stoic looking Charlotte Spence, all of whom were packed into my living room.

  My heart lurched.

  They’d scared the shit out of me, but I didn’t let my face or body give anything away. Bianca, on the other hand, screamed as if she were being murdered and buried her face into the middle of my back. The hard stomping steps of Malik beat against the pavement and sidewalk.

  I gave a tight smile to everyone in the room. “Thank you! Easy, turn the music back up so everyone can enjoy themselves. And let me speak to you for a second in the kitchen.”

  Malik and Bianca followed me and Brad quickly followed them. Before he left the living room, he hit play on his iPod, filling the house with music.

  “What the fuck?” I erupted as soon as it was just the four of us in the kitchen. “No. I’m serious. What the actual fuck?”

  Putting his hand up, I saw the disappointment in his eyes and I almost felt bad. Almost.

  “Roman, you were killing it tonight. Did you see how many people came out? I invited a handful of people—all people who have supported you and wanted to celebrate you—and it just spread. It had a life of its own. But everyone is happy for you, man.”

  Through clenched teeth I growled, “So not only did you completely disregard everything I said, you also invited the person who will make or break my career?”

  “And she thought it was a good idea! Charlotte and I both thought it was a good way for people to get to know the man behind the art.”

  I felt my anger boiling and I tried to clench my fists, but the folder was in my hand. I looked at the folder and was reminded that Charlotte was in the other room. My anger deflated. The kitchen was deathly silent. Brad looked drunk. Malik looked mad. Bianca looked confused and annoyed.

  “You two didn’t know about this?” I asked Malik and Bianca, my voice low and even.

  “No,” they said in unison, glaring at Brad.

  “In my defense,” Brad started, looking between the two of them. “You two would have told him so I had to use you two as decoys. And Roman, I’ve known you longer than anyone. I know you don’t like parties, but if there were ever a reason for you to have a party, this is it. Instead of being mad, you need to celebrate! And all these people want to celebrate with you! You’ve worked your ass off forever. You’ve been painting shit since we were in kindergarten. And you just blew the fucking gates open with that kickass showcase tonight so you wanted to celebrate with the four of us sitting around, shooting the shit? That’s an average Saturday night if any of us can get you to want to do anything. So I had to do something for you. This is what I do. This is the best gift I could give you.”

  As pissed as I was that an actual party was going on in my house, I knew Brad meant well. And through his convoluted monologue, he was right about one thing: I didn’t want to spend the night being mad when I had just sold every painting that I’d spent the last two months working on. Even more than that, I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Charlotte Spence.

  “We will talk about this tomorrow. And you’re cleaning all this shit up. Oh and no one is allowed upstairs. And this bullshit ends in an hour.”

  “Got it, boss,” Brad conceded, giving me a salute.

  “Tell them the news,” Bianca said, changing the subject. She tapped the folder in my hand and smiled.

  “What?” Brad and Malik said in unison.

  “I sold all of the paintings tonight.” I tried to keep a straight face but I felt it break open into a huge smile.

  Before I finished my sentence, Brad had grabbed the glasses and Malik had already cracked open the whiskey. Pouring four shots, we threw them back quickly. Malik and Bianca declined a second shot, but I wanted a refill.

  Picking up the newly refilled shot glass, I felt my body relax as the spicy, brown liquid coated my insides.

  “Now let’s go say thank you to all of the nice people who came here tonight to say congratulations, Roman,” Brad stated with slightly slurred speech.

  Malik looked at him. “Maybe that should be your last shot, Brad.”

  “Do you really think Bradley ‘B-Easy’ Simon can’t hold his liquor? I got this. I haven’t had that many and I have a designated driver, so just chill out.” Brad walked off, just barely grazing Charlotte on his way out.

  “Wow…wow,” Bianca muttered under her breath, staring in the direction of Brad’s retreating frame.

  “I’ll get him. You need to enjoy your night,” Malik sighed as he exited the kitchen.

  “I just came by to show my support,” Charlotte announced, looking out of place in my kitchen. “I didn’t plan to stay long, as I told you before, I have a flight to catch. But you will hear from me tomorrow.” She glanced at the bottle and the glass in my hand and smirked. “I’ll make it tomorrow afternoon so you can enjoy your celebration with your friends tonight. What you did at t
he showcase is unprecedented. Congratulations.”

  Without a goodbye, Charlotte turned on her heel and walked out of the kitchen and through the front door.

  “Did that just happen?” Bianca whispered giddily.

  Picking up the bottle, I poured myself another shot. “I think so. Unless I’m drunk and imagining things.”

  Gesturing to the folder, Bianca said, “If you’re drunk, then I’m drunk too. Because these offers look pretty real to me.”

  “Yeah, I need to celebrate this shit. It’s unbelievable.”

  “This is your party so enjoy yourself.” Bianca picked up her empty glass and tapped her glass against mine, giving off a gentle clink.

  Smiling at her, I toasted, “To an unforgettable night.”

  _____

  Chapter Five

  What the fuck happened last night? I groaned as I pulled the pillow from over my head. I didn’t feel sick, but my body felt like I had been hit by a cement truck. The sound of my phone vibrating against the nightstand sounded like the squeal of a blender piercing the air.

  Slowly rotating onto my back, the silk sheet slid across my hardening dick and I quickly realized that I was naked. With my eyes straining to open, I threw my hand in the direction of the buzzing sound in hopes of cutting it off. Before my hand finally made contact, the sound came to a halt. Letting my arm drop and my eyes flutter closed, my body relaxed. Drifting, I settled into my pillows and I felt the haze of sleep coming over me.

  And then the buzzing started again.

  I didn’t make a move to answer it. Opening my eyes, I picked up the other pillow and covered my head with it. The pillow muted the intrusive noise, but didn’t block it out completely.

  “Leave me alone,” I groaned aloud.

  I didn’t feel like being bothered. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I didn’t feel like doing anything except figuring out why my body felt like I’d been run over. I closed my eyes again and then it hit me.

  My showcase. The party. The drinks, I thought, recalling the events of the night before and beginning to understand why my body felt beat up. Flashes of the night played through my mind like a slideshow. Oh shit, the phone meeting with Charlotte.