Heartache

by Danielle Allen

  “Oh! I wasn’t trying to be in your business or anything.”

  That’s exactly what you were trying to do, I thought, trying not to let my face reflect my annoyance.

  She let her hands drop from her hips and she continued, “I just wanted to be here for you. You know, if exciting news happens for you, I want you to know that I am here for you.”

  Shit.

  “I know you like to keep to yourself and not that many people come around, but no man is an island. I’m here and I care.”

  Shit shit shit shit shit.

  I felt like absolute shit. “I’m sorry, Monroe. I’m stressed about a lot of things. I just need to paint for a while. Please make sure no one comes up.”

  Giving me a slight smile, Monroe got back on the elevator. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Without so much as a look back, Monroe entered the elevator and stared intently at her phone until the door closed.

  Yeah she’s pissed, I thought. I felt like an ass for blowing her off, especially since she seemed to have the best intentions, but I needed to focus on one thing at a time.

  Monroe will either get over it or she will stop being in my business. Either way, I needed to focus on more pressing issues.

  Entering the studio, I instantly realized how much I had missed the smell of all of my paints and cleaners. Dropping my bag on the counter, I walked purposefully to the couch with my cell phone in my hand.

  “So you want to play Allie?” I mumbled under my breath as I pressed her number in my cell phone. Listening to the phone ring, I said, “Let’s play.”

  “Hello?” Allie answered, the surprise evident in her voice.

  “Hey, it’s Roman.” I replied, the boldness leaving me instantly as I realized I didn’t have a plan. “How are you?”

  “I’m…good. Surprised to hear from you.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “It’s been a while since you’ve called.”

  “Yeah, it has.” I cleared my throat.

  “It was so good seeing you over the weekend. Your work is incredible,” she gushed quickly. “You deserve all of the attention you’re getting.”

  “Thank you. I—”

  “I’m sorry about what happened right after we broke up. At the restaurant near your studio.”

  We weren’t ever together so we didn’t break up, I thought, feeling uncomfortable about the apology.

  “I said some things I didn’t mean. I’m sure your girlfriend is lovely. She’s pretty and—”

  A knot twisted in my stomach. B isn’t my girlfriend.

  Wanting to end the apology that was riddled with inaccuracies, I interrupted, “Can we meet and talk?”

  I heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Yes, of course we can. When?”

  As soon as possible.

  “What’s your availability?” I asked, playing it cool. “Tonight or tomorrow are good for me.”

  I tried to sound nonchalant, but I was ready for the shit to be over.

  “I’m free tomorrow night. The only time I’m free is dinner time. We could meet up for dinner or…?” She trailed off, barely masking her excitement.

  Allie and I didn’t go out. Allie and I never went out on a date. The main reason was because I didn’t want her to mistake or misunderstand what our relationship was.

  But here we are now, I thought with a shake of my head. I don’t want her to come to my place and I don’t want to eat at her place. After the unnerving way she has wormed her way back into my life, I don’t trust that she won’t poison me. Maybe we can just meet somewhere low-key and I’ll order coffee. I’ll keep it brief.

  “I’ll text you the address of the place. Does seven o’clock work?” I asked.

  “Yes. Tomorrow at seven. Got it.”

  “See you then.”

  I disconnected the call before I could confirm that she said goodbye. I hated that I felt like I was rewarding her stalkerish ways by taking her on a date—something I was sure she would not so subtly bring up during our time together. I took a deep breath and let it go.

  By the end of dinner, I’ll have put an end to this madness and my life can go back to normal.

  I looked down at the request from Sophia’s Haute Couture and shook my head.

  Or I can at least figure out what my new normal is.

  Calling Charlotte Spence, I confirmed my attendance at the fashion show and checked in regarding the mailing of work to the different buyers. We discussed business and the company who would be transporting and delivering my work. Once we finished with business regarding the showcase, we moved on to future business. Hearing the matter-of-fact way in which she talked about the business and the balance between staying relevant and not compromising creativity inspired me. Talking to Charlotte about how her drama-free philosophy came into existence, I was reminded that my life was nothing but drama.

  “Have you begun your next project?” Charlotte asked. I couldn’t tell from her tone what she was expecting.

  “No.”

  “That’s fine. Do you know when you plan to start?” Charlotte asked. I could hear the pen scratching against her notebook.

  “Today. I’m in the studio now. I just wanted to make sure everything was moving as expected.”

  “Once we’ve worked together for a little while, we will have learned how the other operates. In the meantime, I need to follow up with you and you can feel free to do the same with me. We have to move as a team.”

  “I agree.”

  “Do you have any ideas regarding medium, theme, size, or scope for your next project?”

  “I haven’t fleshed anything out yet. It will be faces. I haven’t finished conceptualizing it yet, but I’ll let you know. The only thing I know for sure is that it will be different from my previous work.”

  “Okay. Do you have an estimated time you’re looking to complete this project?”

  “No. End of summer. I am not going to push myself to complete it. I gave myself two months to do what I did for the showcase. I am going to give myself more time. Especially if I’ll be using some models.”

  “I agree. There’s no rush. You are talented and will have a long career ahead of you. I was asking because if you have something pulled together, even if it is just your statement piece and a handful of complimentary pieces, I could pull an exhibition together for you during fashion week. You’ll already be in New York for the SoHoCo fashion show so it would coincide well.”

  I was speechless. Having the top New York City art representative in my corner made me feel both motivated and overwhelmed. Either way, I knew I had to deliver. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I didn’t want to fuck it up. I didn’t have a two month deadline like I did before so I didn’t have to push myself to exhaustion.

  “Roman?” Charlotte called out in her bored tone.

  “I’m here. Yes. I’m in.”

  “Don’t sound so shocked.”

  I didn’t know if that was her attempt at a joke or not. “I am shocked. That’s…crazy. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll be in touch. Call me if you need me.”

  We got off the phone and I sat on the couch for a minute with my mouth open, completely floored. Without thinking, I caught myself lingering over Bianca’s phone number.

  I can’t call her.

  Scrolling down, I pressed call once I saw Brad’s number.

  “Yo!” Brad answered over the loud music before it was silence in the background.

  “What’s up, Easy?”

  “On my way to the movies. What’s up, man?”

  There was a distinct giggle in the background.

  What was that?

  “I just got some crazy news. Were you giggling just now?”

  The laugh that erupted out of Brad was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “No, no. That wasn’t me.”

  “Oh, you’re on a date,” I guessed knowingly.

  “Yeah, something like that.”


  “I know that’s right. Have fun. We’ll talk later.”

  “No, what’s up man? What’s your news?” Brad insisted.

  “It’ll be the same news tomorrow, man. Have a good time. But don’t get too crazy.”

  “You know me!”

  “And that’s why we call you Easy,” I deadpanned, ending the call as I heard him laughing.

  I looked at the time and knew that Malik was still at work so I didn’t call him. I looked at Bianca’s number one more time before turning my phone off completely.

  Gathering my art supplies, I sat on a stool in front of a medium sized canvas and waited. I knew what I wanted to paint, but my mind was distracted. Something else had a hold on me. Going to my cabinets, I grabbed the charcoal and stood in front of the large canvas in the back of the room. Setting up my station, I backed away from the canvas on the easel.

  Crossing the room, I powered on my iPod that sat in the docking station and the studio filled with noise. The song was something I’d never heard before, but I liked the beat. Standing at the blank canvas, I zoned out, letting the music consume me.

  Picking up the charcoal, I started dragging the charcoal against the surface. I didn’t think about it, I just started drawing. Using both charcoal and paint, I let out everything I was feeling on the canvas. Hours passed and it wasn’t until the light in the room became too dim to see that I stopped.

  Wiping my hands on my jeans, I got up and turned on the overhead lights. From my vantage point, the work was developing into something special, but I didn’t think too hard about the subject. I didn’t have all the pieces together yet, but I was pleased with what I had done so far.

  Grabbing a bottle of water, I slowly approached the canvas again. The music floated through the room and I felt the fervor in the music, in my body, in the work I’d done thus far. Picking up the charcoal, I connected lines that needed to meet, shaded in areas that needed color, perfected each area that needed to be contoured. For the outside areas of the canvas, I used black paint. I was in the zone and I couldn’t see beyond the lines, shapes, and angles.

  Now I’ll just have to seal it, I thought, wiping my charcoal covered hands on my jeans.

  Getting up, I grabbed a towel and the spray varnish to keep the charcoal from smearing. After hunting for my goggles and face mask, I lightly coated the canvas. Turning on fans to accelerate the drying process, I stood back and looked at the piece.

  Taking in the abstract piece, my heart rate spiked like it always did when I put my all into my work. Everything I’ve ever painted or drawn, I’ve worked my damnedest on, but I didn’t necessarily put my heart and soul into every single piece. That would make me too vulnerable, too exposed. As much as I hated it sometimes, when my emotions were getting the best of me and I couldn’t cope, it would manifest itself in my art.

  And this shit right here is revealing a little too much about me, I thought, running my hands down my face. But now that it’s out of my system, I can focus.

  Turning the easel toward the wall, I turned the fan off and decided to let it air dry on its own. And with it turned away from me, I wouldn’t have to look at it every day.

  After getting myself cleaned up and changing into a pair of sweats, I prepared myself to go to sleep. I felt like I was going to pass out when I finally stretched out on the couch. In the darkened room, the moonlight cast shadows across the studio. My eyes lingered on the blank canvas closest to me and the large canvas turned away from me in the back of the room.

  Even though my body was exhausted, my mind wouldn’t turn itself off. I thought about the conversation with Bianca and the incredible loss that was. I thought about the conversation with Allie and how incredibly awkward that would be. I thought about the messages I had been getting for the last few days. I thought about what Easy said about Benjamin being sick. Anxiety rippled through me and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My chest hurt from the pressure.

  I fell into a fitful sleep and although I didn’t remember waking up throughout the night, I knew I didn’t get much rest. My head was killing me when I finally opened my eyes. Stretching, I swung my legs off of the couch and to the floor. With my head in my hands, I braced myself for a day I knew was going to be fucked up.

  Checking my phone, I got the first confirmation of things to come.

  *****

  To: Roman

  From: xoxoMExoxo

  Subject: A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words

  I know I’m not as talented as you, but I worked really hard on that drawing. I hope you like it! I tried to capture how I see you: sexy and serious. When I started drawing this you had your beard, but when you shaved it, I was able to use a ruler to replicate your jawline. Your face is perfect. Your body is perfect. You have no idea what I want to do to you. Here’s a hint: I will make sure every inch of your body is properly taken care of.

  I know this is unconventional, and I know I crossed the line by mentioning your ex-girlfriend—again, I apologize for that. I just needed you to know that I know you and I love you for who you are. Isn’t that what everyone wants? To find someone who understands them and loves them for exactly who they are? I don’t want you because you’re a professor. I don’t want you because you’re about to be famous. I don’t want you for any other reason than because when I looked at your art, it confirmed that you and I have been through the same kind of pain. You and I are both lonely. You and I are both emotional and passionate. I was always attracted to you, but at your showcase, your art told me all of the things I never knew about you. Your art told me who you were and I saw myself in it. I know I’ve gone about this in a peculiar way, but can you blame me? I saw an opening and my plan was to talk to you the very next day. I swear, I was going to tell you after you sobered up, but I didn’t expect to feel the way I felt when you were responding to my emails. When I knew you were thinking of me, that’s all I could focus on. Again, I know it’s unconventional, but I hope once the mystery is gone and you know who I am, you will give this a chance to develop into something.

  Our very first meeting was memorable, but when we see each other now, it will be different. I look forward to seeing your face when you finally see who I am. I hope I haven’t waited too long. I wanted you to be curious, not resentful of me. That was never the point of this. I always wanted you to know. I always wanted to tell you. I just got caught up in the attention for a few days. But I promise you, I will make it up to you. See you soon.

  Me

  *****

  I read the email twice before tossing my phone to the side. I dropped my head into my hands and thought about the last few days.

  I’ll be glad when this is over, I grumbled in frustration. The uneasy feeling that ran up my spine gave me a chill. This has to stop.

  I wavered between thinking that the messages were annoying and thinking the messages were something of a bigger concern. Although I didn’t think the woman behind the emails was dangerous, she was creeping me out. The knowledge that someone was watching me and I had no idea who they were made me uncomfortable.

  But that’s the whole purpose behind meeting with Allie tonight. Meredith said the woman who dropped off the package had brown hair, Allie has brown hair. All of the other facts line up to prove that Allie is the one.

  Picking up my phone, I looked back at the email and hit reply.

  *****

  To: xoxoMExoxo

  From: Roman

  If you can’t tell me who you are, stop sending me emails and stop sending me stuff altogether. This is not cute or sexy or whatever it is you are going for, this is creepy. So STOP!

  *****

  I hit send and hoped that the challenge was enough to get her to admit who she was so this could be over. I was tired of dealing with it.

  Yawning, I checked my missed calls and voice messages to find I had a missed call from Malik, one from a number that wasn’t saved in my phone, and five calls from Elizabeth.

  Checking the time, I packed up my stuff and headed
downstairs in the elevator. I needed to get home and shower if I wanted to take a nap before meeting with Allie.

  “Roman!” Monroe called as soon as I stepped off of the elevator.

  I slowed down, but kept moving. “Hey Monroe.”

  “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” She ran to catch up with me and followed me out of the building.

  “Good morning.”

  “It’s the afternoon, but no, not that. Anything about a letter?”

  “It’s nothing that concerns Art House.”

  “Anything that concerns you concerns Art House. We are a family here!”

  I opened the backdoor to my car and put my bag inside. “Family,” I repeated.

  “Yes! We are a family.”

  I opened the driver’s side door and got in the car, rolling down the window as soon as the key was in the ignition. I gave her a polite smile. “Family should respect each other’s privacy.”

  Monroe gave a short laugh. “Family should tell each other everything, no matter what,” Monroe yelled as I was pulling out of the parking spot.

  She’s absolutely right about that, I thought as we waved at each other before I pulled off. Maybe if my family had told me everything, I wouldn’t be in this position right now.

  _____

  Chapter Thirteen

  Once I got home, it was as if time sped up. I sent Allie a text message with the name and address of a small restaurant that I heard was known for their coffee and dessert. I couldn’t remember who told me about it, but it seemed perfect for what I needed to do.

  In my mind, meeting for coffee and dessert and taking someone out for dinner were two different things. I didn’t want Allie to have unreasonable expectations about our meeting. We’d never been on a date before and it was never my intention to take her on a date. I didn’t like for lines to be crossed if it was going to result in someone getting hurt.

  But I need to figure this out by any means necessary, I reasoned.

  After a short nap and a long shower, I pulled on a pair of black jeans and a black and white button-up shirt. Grabbing my leather jacket, I left my house and headed to the restaurant. Cranking my music all the way up, I maneuvered through the streets of Richmond, heading to the West End. It didn’t take me long to find the building so I parked and went in to scope out the place.