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Heartfelt

Page 15

by Danielle Allen


  “Do you think Bianca would want you if you weren’t riding the last minute of your fifteen minutes of fame? Do you think she would want you if she knew that every time I saw you, you were with another woman?”

  Gritting my teeth, my chest expanded as I inhaled and exhaled roughly. Cracking my knuckles, I had to take another step away from him for his own good.

  We glared at one another, the hostility building between us.

  “Mr. Blue, I have a question,” a student yelled, causing Ashton to break eye contact and look over my shoulder. I heard the heavy footsteps come to a stop. “Oh sorry!”

  “I’m giving you the courtesy of asking you to leave her alone and not send her anything else. Next time, I won’t be so courteous,” I threatened in a low growl.

  Turning, I stormed off. I was almost out of the classroom when I heard the student gasp. “Mr. Blue, you know Roman Harper? That’s dope!”

  I didn’t hear Ashton’s response, but I knew that hurt him. And I smiled.

  Once I made it to the car, I let out a loud, ferocious scream. I banged my fist against the steering wheel a few times until I felt a little better. A group of students walking by turned and looked at me in alarm. Not wanting to draw any more attention to myself, I put the key in the ignition and drove away.

  I wanted to call Bianca, but I decided to wait until she called me. Her situation with Nina was shaky at the moment and I didn’t want to add to the problem by calling her while she was on the job.

  Although as a curator, part of her job is to talk to artists. I smirked. Oh, that’s good. Maybe I should save that for another day.

  I ran my hand down my face.

  I’ve got it bad.

  Driving straight to Art House, I felt the desire for release prickling my skin.

  I need to paint. I need to let this all out on the canvas.

  I stepped out of the car and it was strangely quiet in the parking deck. It was still early in the day, but not many cars were there. Getting out of the car slowly, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I looked around as I entered to the front door of Art House. Nothing seemed off, but I could feel it in the air.

  As soon as I got halfway across the main floor, I stopped in my tracks.

  “Hello, Roman.”

  “Meredith,” I replied in a clipped tone as I continued to make my way to the elevator.

  Meredith had her brown hair in a messy bun piled on the top of her head. She had on a dress that she looked uncomfortable in as she kept pulling at the hemline. She looked nervous and she should’ve been.

  “How have you been?” Her voice followed me to the elevator bank.

  “How are you even here? You do realize you’re violating a restraining order, right?”

  “Well I was in need of a letter of recommendation and Monroe isn’t returning my calls.”

  I hit the call button repeatedly, hoping to speed the elevator up.

  “There’s a restraining order against you. What don’t you understand about staying away from here?”

  Meredith’s pale cheeks reddened as she tentatively closed the distance between us. She was quiet for a long time as she stood an arm’s reach away. When the elevator doors opened and I stepped inside, Meredith shifted her position so she could keep the door propped open with her foot.

  Her eyes met mine and for the first time ever, I saw more than just nervousness. I saw tenacity. “Monroe won’t give me a good reference because of what happened. The restraining order is ruining my life, Roman. Have it lifted.”

  “You can’t say it isn’t deserved.”

  “I fell in love with you and yeah, maybe I came on a little too strong. But I had no intention of it going as far as it did.”

  “You got information about my past from Benjamin and tried to use it against me.”

  “I just wanted to know you better. I just thought we…” Her sentence trailed off and her lip quivered. She lifted her shoulders and shrugged. “Obviously, you didn’t feel the same way. Fine. But you have to talk to Monroe. If you say you’re okay with me, she’ll write the letter of recommendation and give me a good reference. I know she will! She’s blackballing me because of you. Don’t do this to me!”

  What? Is she serious? This is because of me?

  I didn’t respond.

  The elevator’s alarm sounded because the doors were held open for too long. Meredith snatched her arm from between the two chrome doors as they did a force closure.

  I ran my hands down my face. “What the fuck is going on?” I muttered in the empty elevator.

  The day felt like it was going to get the best of me and it wasn’t even noon yet.

  When I made it into the confines of my studio, I kicked off my shoes and headed straight for the couch. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dialed Bianca’s work number. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to talk to her.

  “Pho Gallery.” Bianca’s throaty voice washed over me as she answered the phone.

  “Hey, B,” With my hand resting on my chest, I pressed gently. My heart was racing. “I just wanted to check on you. I won’t hold you long. I just needed to hear your voice.”

  She let out a rush of air into the phone. “Ro, you never fail to give me butterflies.”

  I smiled. “Good. Do you have a minute to talk?”

  “Yes and I have some news! Nina just went to lunch, but we talked this morning and she told me why she’s been in such a mood lately and why she’s been so hard on me.” She paused for dramatic effect. “She’s pregnant!”

  “That’s cool.” I didn’t even try to match the level of excitement that was in Bianca’s voice.

  “She’s pregnant and when she takes maternity leave, she wants me to handle all her clients!”

  I sat up on the couch. “Holy shit, B! That’s huge. You know what that means right?”

  “That in a few months, I’ll be Nina Lowe!”

  “No, it means that in a few months, you’ll be ready to strike out on your own. You won’t be Nina Lowe, you’ll be Bianca Baker. And you’ll be running shit in New York!”

  Bianca laughed loudly into the phone. When her laughter died out, she admitted, “I wish you were here to celebrate.”

  I wish I was there all the time.

  I swallowed hard.

  “I’ve been thinking about getting a studio in New York so that I could stay a little longer when I come to see you.”

  “I would like that.”

  Neither of us said anything. I didn’t know why she was quiet, but the fear of rejection choked the rest of the conversation out of me.

  She wants to make it on her own. She wants to stand on her own two feet. I’ll just be patient.

  “You have a new place to live and a new job opportunity coming up. You wanted to make it on your own and you’re doing it, B. Everything is falling into place for you.” My words sounded sad even though I was fiercely proud of her.

  She didn’t reply at first and I could feel that she was holding something back. But I couldn’t call her on it because I was doing the same thing.

  “How has your morning been, Ro?”

  “Eventful. I stopped by and talked to Ashton. I’m not sure he’s smart enough to listen to my advice, but I warned him what would happen if he reached out to you again.”

  “I hope you didn’t threaten to beat him up.”

  I froze. “And if I did?”

  “You’re all muscle and passion and bottled up emotion. He’s all talk and skinny jeans. That’s not even a fair fight. If you put your hands on him, he will go to the police. You’ll go to jail for assault and battery and you’ll lose your contract with Charlotte Spence. She doesn’t work with criminals. She told you that in the first meeting. So I refuse to let you do anything that’ll jeopardize your future because of a few flowers. He could send me every flower in the world and it wouldn’t be enough to take me away from you.”

  I knew she was right. But I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t just let him get
away with what he was doing.

  “I hear you, Beautiful.”

  “You are about to be featured in a museum. I’m about to move into the next phase of my career. And most importantly, we have each other.”

  “You’re right.”

  ----------

  Chapter Fifteen

  “So why don’t you just move to New York?” Malik asked as he threw away his trash.

  I choked on the beer I was drinking. Coughing, I slammed the bottle onto the table and stood up.

  “Are you okay?” Malik asked, slowly walking toward me.

  I nodded as I braced myself against the kitchen table. Clearing my throat, I hit my chest a few times.

  Malik sat back down in the chair across from me. “That was an overreaction.”

  I laughed, scrubbing my face with my hands before I sat down. “It went down the wrong pipe.”

  “Yeah, okay,” he said sarcastically, making a face.

  I chose not to respond. Instead, I twisted the bottle of beer between my palms.

  “So are you and Courtney going out tonight?”

  Malik ran his hand over his fresh haircut. “Yeah. She wants to go see a band downtown with a few of her work friends. Someone they work with is in the band, I think. I honestly don’t know what’s going on, but she wants to go and she wants me to go so I’m going. I know you’re probably going to say no, but it’s Saturday night and you should come out.”

  I shook my head. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m just going to stick around here for the night.”

  “I figured. It’s a low key bar though. And I’ve never heard of the band so it shouldn’t be that many people there. But I get it. Next time B’s in town, we need to set up something for the four of us.”

  “Yeah, we should. She would’ve been here this weekend, but she had to go to the National Gallery of Art for an event with her supervisor.”

  “In D.C.?”

  I nodded, taking a gulp to finish my bottle.

  Malik made a noise. “I’m surprised you didn’t drive up there.”

  I chuckled as I admitted, “I thought about it.”

  Malik laughed along with me. “What stopped you?”

  The fact that B got chewed out by Nina a couple of days ago because of a scheduling mix up she swears she had nothing to do with.

  “They’re working late tonight and have early meetings tomorrow.” I shrugged, downplaying the disappointment I felt in not seeing her. “I’ll be there in a few days anyway. I’m checking out the studio space Charlotte found for me and B starts moving her stuff into her new apartment a couple of days later.”

  Malik gave me a look and didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “So let me get this straight…you have a studio you’ll be working out of in New York. Your representative operates out of New York. Your girlfriend who you’re in love with lives in New York. You don’t teach any classes anymore and even if you did, the last couple of semesters, you’ve been teaching online only so you could do that in New York.”

  I nodded slowly, letting what he said sink in. “Yes.”

  “So I’m going to ask you again. Why don’t you just move to New York? You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

  I think about it every minute I’m away from her and every second we are together.

  “It’s crossed my mind.”

  But thinking and doing are two different things.

  “Okay.” Malik lifted his hands in defeat.

  Even though he didn’t say anything else, he was getting inside of my head. I narrowed my eyes at him. “It’s too soon. It hasn’t even been a full two months yet.”

  “You went from ‘I can’t do long distance relationships’ to ‘it’s too soon to move to New York to be with the woman I love’ real quick,” he pointed out, clearly amused with himself. “Which is it?”

  “Both.” As much as I tried to stop it, I felt my face crack into a smile. “Smartass.”

  “I’m just asking the questions, man.” He chuckled as he lifted his bottle and finished it off.

  “You’re always asking questions. What’s up with you and Courtney? Why aren’t you two living together yet?”

  “Ah…deflection.”

  “I’m just asking the questions, man,” I replied, mimicking his tone.

  “Coury and I have talked about it. When our leases are up, we will. Now, what’s up with you and B?”

  I looked at my best friend long and hard. If anybody would get it, he would. “I don’t want to mess this up. And she hasn’t said anything to indicate she wants me to move there. I mean, of course she says she misses me and she wishes I was there, but she’s adamant about making it on her own. She’s a fighter. And now with her not accepting her parents’ money anymore, she has something to prove.”

  “Oh, I get it. You’re scared she doesn’t want you to move up there?”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s not that.”

  Yes, that’s exactly it.

  “No, it makes perfect sense. But I don’t think you have anything to worry about. If B could work with Nina from Richmond, she would. That’s what she said to me when she was here last.”

  “Where are you watching the game this weekend?”

  “Oh so we’re just going to bypass everything I just said? Okay cool.” Malik laughed at the abrupt change of subject before answering. “Home, probably.”

  We talked for about twenty more minutes before I went to the porch to see him off. We joked back and forth as he climbed into his car. I waved as he drove off.

  As soon as I reentered the soundless house, I felt the hollowness in my chest. I ran up the stairs to my bedroom. Kicking off my shoes, I turned on the T.V. to try to drown out my thoughts. But it all came down to one thing.

  I miss B.

  Malik’s visit was a great distraction. I was able to laugh and joke for a couple of hours. But the silence that filled my home only reminded me of what I was missing.

  B.

  Even the conversation with Malik never strayed too far away from Bianca. I could not stop thinking about her if I tried.

  As if on cue, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out, I saw it was a text message from Bianca.

  Bianca Baker: We are networking and it is awesome watching Nina work the room. I’ve learned so much and met so many cool people already. I wish you were here.

  Roman Harper: I’m glad you’re having a good time. Enjoy yourself! And you don’t know how badly I wish I was there with you.

  Bianca Baker: You left me on Tuesday and it was hard, but knowing I was going to see you again Friday made it bearable. And then this event messed all of that up.

  Roman Harper: Today is Saturday. We just have to make it to Wednesday and then we’ll be together again.

  Bianca Baker: There has to be a better way for us to make this work.

  And there it is.

  I stared at the text message for a long time. I wanted to tell her about the apartment. I wanted to tell her that I wanted to live with her. I wanted to tell her the truth. But as I stared at the text message, my gut twisted with anxiety.

  Bianca Baker: I love you and I love our relationship. I’ve had a couple of glasses of champagne so don’t mind me. I should get back to the party though. I’ll call you before bed.

  Roman Harper: I love you, too. I’ll be up.

  I reread the text conversation four times and something felt off. During my fifth time rereading the messages, I decided that it was probably the fact that I had yet another opportunity to talk to Bianca and I didn’t take it.

  Getting out of bed, I pulled off my shirt. I went across the hallway to my office and picked up a small canvas from the stack near the door.

  After gathering my supplies, I worked out my thoughts on the canvas. The splattering of brown, gold, and black lines turned into an abstract depiction of Bianca. It was flawed; not my best work at all, but looking at it gave me clarity.

  There’s no reason I shouldn’t move to New Yor
k.

  After washing the paint from my hands, I flipped through the channels trying to find something to watch. My eyes kept landing on my phone.

  I should’ve responded differently.

  I should’ve just been honest with her.

  I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I couldn’t sit still. It only took forty minutes for me to realize that clarity didn’t give me peace.

  I can’t stay in this house right now.

  Texting Malik to get the address to the bar, I got dressed and headed to Main Street. It took less than ten minutes for me to find the bar, but it took almost ten minutes to find a parking spot. Main Street was packed with cars so I parked on Cary Street. Turning the engine off, I sat in the car for a minute. Looking at my phone, my mind turned to Bianca.

  It’s possible she keeps bringing it up because she wants me to say what I want. But if—what the hell am I doing?

  I ran my hands down my face and chuckled to myself.

  I’ve got it bad.

  I got out of my car, slamming the door shut. Making my way down the street, I checked out the restaurants and bars that I never knew existed. It was busy, typical for a Saturday night, so I just took mental notes of the restaurants I’d want to try.

  As soon as I turned onto Main Street, I saw a cool restaurant with two paintings sitting on easels in the window. I stopped to check it out and something behind the art caught my eye.

  Sitting at a table near the window was Ashton and Copeland.

  My eyebrows flew up and I averted my eyes.

  That’s odd.

  I spent my week staying far away from VCU so I hadn’t seen either of them since Wednesday. Moving quickly, I continued down the sidewalk until I reached my destination.

  “Yo!” Malik called out when I stepped through the door.

  “Yo,” I returned as we did our signature handshake.

  I looked around and nodded. The bar was small and well-lit. Lots of wood—wood paneling, hardwood floors, wooden bar top tables. It wasn’t smoky and the laws prohibited smoking, but the place smelled like burnt firewood. It had a cool vibe to it, even though it had a noticeable lack of art on the walls.

 

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