by Deanna Lee
“It works for me.” I frowned. “No. That’s a lie. It doesn’t fucking work for me.” I crossed my arms over my breasts and then glared at her. “I’ve been in therapy almost a year. I should be able to deal with this.”
“I’ve been a Christian for forty-two years, and I can tell you with a great deal of certainty I’m not ready for the end of the world.”
“And that means?” I demanded with a frown.
“It means, Mercy, that you can prepare for something your whole life, and it can still leave you lying flat on your back, wondering what the hell happened. Life is not predictable, and trying to control it will only drive you insane.”
“And I should take each day as it comes.” She’d told me that a time or two. It wasn’t a piece of advice I had ever taken to heart. “I went to bed with Shamus last night.”
“Good.” She leaned back in her chair and watched me sit down. “Were there any moments of fear or regret?”
“No, none. I’m very comfortable and secure with him.” I relaxed a little, relieved that she’d accepted my abrupt change of subject.
“Do you think you rushed this?”
“I want to say yes, because it seems like the thing to say.” Shrugging, I sighed and then chuckled. “It’s like when I was a kid and I did something bad that I really enjoyed, and my mother would force me to apologize. I would do it, but I never meant it.”
“Does it help to think about him?”
“Yes.” I nodded.
“But it doesn’t push Jeff King away completely.”
“No. I’m not sure what to do today. I want to scream at him and take from him until he feels as badly as I do. What do I do?”
Lesley stood up from her desk and walked around to stand in front of it. She leaned on the desk and was silent for a moment. Finally she said, “Under no circumstances are you to agree to meet this man outside of the professional arena. You make it clear that you consider any contact on his part to be harassment, and be prepared to involve the police if he doesn’t pay attention. Even without a rape conviction, antistalking laws will protect you on this front. Be strong, be firm, and do not give him the opportunity to get under your skin.
“This is easy for me to say, I suppose, but a man like Jeff King gets his kicks from power. He wants your fear, and needs to believe that he ruined you in New York. Once he realizes that you aren’t a shattered and devastated victim, he could become a serious threat. Do not underestimate him, and make your stand in a place where help is available to you.”
I nodded and sighed. “Be strong, don’t take his shit, and call the police if he doesn’t get the hint.”
Lesley laughed. “Yes, basically.”
“And if I can’t? I couldn’t make myself call the police when he raped me.”
“You can. He’s not in charge of your life, and he can’t control you. Jeff King is nothing. He’s a worthless man who needs to brutalize women to feel empowered.”
Jane was at her desk when I came in the door. One glance at my office told me why she looked so defeated. They were early. I walked to Jane’s desk and picked up my messages.
“I’m so freaking sorry, Mercy.”
The guilt written all over her face made me feel small and furious. I would’ve never wanted to upset her so. Her friendship was more important than I’d allowed myself to admit. “No worries, Jane. Did you offer them coffee?”
“Yes, they both declined. I’ll have the conference room ready in a few minutes. If you want, we can start the meeting early.”
I looked at my watch and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize I’d been gone so long. Let me know when Milton is ready and the conference room is set up. Remind me, what did we offer them for the collection?”
“Central floor, second level.”
Edward met me at the door of my office with his hands outstretched and a genuine smile of affection. I’d missed him. He was one of the best men I’d ever met. He loved his wife and his children as if they were the only things that mattered. I liked that about him; his loyalty and devotion were endearing. Accepting his embrace, I glanced briefly at Jeff, who had stood as well.
“Jeff.”
“Mercy.” I hated my name on his lips, and I wanted to beat his face in so that he could never say it again.
I went to my desk and took a seat. Dropping my purse in the drawer next to me, I directed my gaze to Edward. “I have my assistant setting up our conference space. As soon as Mr. Storey is free, we can begin.”
Edward smiled. “See, Jeff, I told you our Mercy would have things well in hand here.”
I looked at Jeff and found him staring at me. His expression was a mixture of confusion and anger. “Jeff has always underestimated me.” I looked at Jane, who gave me a nod. “We can move into the conference room now. Edward, I’m sure you’ll find the space ideal for the Impressionist exhibit. I’m surprised, however, that you are letting it travel.”
“I can’t hold all the beautiful things at once.” Edward smiled. “It wouldn’t be fair.”
“I have some slides of shows we’ve done before in the central area. It’ll give you an idea of what we can do.” I entered the conference room ahead of them, but waited until they’d both chosen chairs before I sat down a few chairs from Jane.
She looked professional but wound so tight I was surprised her skin wasn’t stretching. I regretted letting her see my anxiety. Milton hurried in and filled up the silence with his chatter, and then I began the slide show. I have no idea what I said or even if the presentation went well. Each time my gaze fell on Jeff, my insides twisted up. By the time I sat down and Jane turned the lights back on, I felt like I’d run a marathon.
As soon as my presentation was over, I left the conference room and left the details to Milton and Jane. I couldn’t take another moment of it. Once in my office I turned on my radio, sat behind my desk, and stared at the wall in front of me. I’d been staring at the wall for nearly twenty minutes when my office door opened. I looked up to speak to Jane, but it wasn’t her.
“What do you want, Jeff?” I asked in disbelief.
“I thought we could have dinner together.” Jeff leaned against the door frame as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
I felt like a cartoon character, my mouth hanging open in shock. I clamped it shut so hard that my teeth snapped. My fingers grabbed the armrest of my chair. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“We were friends once.”
“I thought so, and then you raped me. You were a twisted presence in my life, and I’m fortunate to have survived you. Now you’re nothing to me.”
The silence fell like a rock between us. Jeff was one of those men who never accepted responsibility for his actions, and a part of me deeply regretted not making him pay for what he’d done to me. He pulled my office door shut and paced in front of it as if he had something to work out. I couldn’t imagine that he had anything to say that would make me think less of him, but then I was never good at judging him.
“It was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” I demanded, nearly overwhelmed by the statement. “Rape is a crime, not a mistake. Get out of my office.”
“Mercy, we can fix this between us.”
“Every time I look at you, I can hear myself begging you to stop.” I sucked in a breath. “And you didn’t. You violated me, and there is nothing that can be said that will change that.”
The muscle in his jaw worked as he looked at me. “I’m asking you to forgive me.”
“Leave.”
“Mercy.”
“Get out, and don’t ever come back. You aren’t welcome in Holman’s, professionally or otherwise. When the Impressionist exhibit comes here this winter, you will remain in New York.”
“It’s my exhibit.”
“I don’t care.” And it was my exhibit. He’d taken it over only because I had left it behind.
“Edward will expect me to come with him for the initial setup.”
“If y
ou come with him, Jeff, I’ll tell him what you did to me. I’ll tell him the real reason why I left the museum and New York. Just how much do you think he’ll value you after that?”
He flushed, red and angry. “That would ruin my career.”
“It would be no less than you deserve. You tried to ruin my soul.” I stood, unwilling to sit. “Get out.” I looked past him, to Jane, who was standing just outside the door. “Get out, or I’ll have my assistant call security to escort you out.”
When he was gone from my sight, I went to the bathroom off my office and shut the door. I could only be grateful the idiot who had designed our office space hadn’t made the bathroom walls out of glass, too. Dropping the lid down on the toilet, I sat down. When Jane peeked in, I frowned at her.
“I didn’t think I would have to endure people coming into the bathroom with me until I had children.”
Jane closed the door and leaned on it. “What did Jeff King do to you, Mercy?”
“This isn’t a conversation that a supervisor and subordinate should have,” I finally said.
“Fine, then tell me because I’m your friend.”
I let my gaze travel back to her face, and knew she didn’t want to know. “I’m sorry, Jane. None of this is your fault, and I’m sorry that I’ve upset you so.”
“Did you have an affair with him?”
“No.” I stood from the toilet and frowned. It was weird being in the bathroom with Jane. I laughed then, struck by the absurdity of it.
Jane frowned at me as she opened the door. I followed her out, knowing that she wasn’t going to give up. She sat down in a chair in front of my desk as I walked to the windows. The parking lot was half empty. “We should try to find a way to bring people into the gallery on their lunch hours.”
Jane snorted. “Not unless we want to set up food sample carts for them to graze on while they browse.”
I looked back to her. “He forced me to have sex with him.”
The word hovered on her lips as the color slipped rapidly from her face. Anger and a look only another woman understands flashed in her eyes. She stood and shoved her hands into her pockets. She looked so young and vulnerable then. Jane was two years younger than I was, but I felt so much older. She cleared her throat and shook her head.
“It’s all right, Jane. No one knows what to say after such a confession, and when they do speak, they inevitably screw it up so badly they feel worse. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll make sure security understands that he’s not to come back in the building.” She walked towards the door.
“What will you tell them?”
“I’ll tell them he grabbed my ass.” Jane smiled then, but her eyes remained dark and angry. “Mr. Wilkes can’t stand a man with no manners. He won’t get past the door without me being notified.”
I said nothing else, and she left my office.
I sat outside Shame’s gallery, confused and angry that the decision to come to him had been so natural. What a fool I was, slipping into a man’s life and bed without a single thought to my emotional safety.
Deep down inside, I knew that he would never hurt me physically. It was as if I’d developed a sixth sense about men since I had been attacked. I had met a man here or there that I hadn’t trusted, who had set me on edge the moment I met them. Shamus Montgomery, artist and fuck of the century, didn’t make me want to run for my life.
I got out of my car, angry with myself for falling into a relationship where I was emotionally and physically needy. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell me that I didn’t want Shame to be the needy one. I needed him to be strong and resilient. I had to know that he was there, full of life and passion. That he was ready and able to fill me with his strength and, of course, his cock.
Entering the gallery, I pulled the key from the door as I locked it and hurried up the steps. I stopped at the top of the stairs, stunned and furious. As women went, she was an exceptional one, tall and sleek in a way that runway models were. Her dark skin looked oiled, and I fleetingly wondered if she’d applied the oil herself. I took the final step and a deep calming breath. I would just have to get used to the fact that Shame worked with naked women. The alabaster was covered, and he was working on a bronze project I’d seen only once. It had been covered the other times I’d been there.
The woman hadn’t looked at me, though I knew she was aware of my presence. She’d stiffened, but kept her pose. I would have never agreed to such a pose. She was kneeling on the platform, her arms over her head, back arched. It looked uncomfortable as hell. I walked toward the stairs that led to Shame’s private space, and I heard an audible intake of breath. I looked over my shoulder and raised one eyebrow at her before I went up the stairs.
By the time I’d found a bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and a glass, Shame was walking up the stairs. I poured a generous portion and took the bottle with me as I headed toward the couches where his big television was located. I admit, I have no idea why men insist on having such big televisions. However, his flat-panel was fascinating. I’d never watched a flat-panel television, except at the store.
He followed me to the couch with an empty glass and sat down beside me as he grabbed the bottle. “You just cost me a model.”
“Excuse me?” I raised an eyebrow.
He sighed and took a deep swallow of his wine. “She apparently had some personal ambitions that I was unaware of.”
“Oh, you poor brilliant artist. How trying it must be when young, naked, nubile women throw themselves at you all the time.”
Shame stared at me for a moment and then started to laugh. “Well, I guess that is an odd thing for a man to complain about.”
“Indeed.” I pointed toward the television. “Turn that thing on, and I want the remote.”
“I take it I’m not getting you naked tonight.”
“Oh, you can get me naked, but I’m not sitting in that chair tonight.” I took the remote after he turned the television on and looked over the buttons. I started flipping.
The best thing about flipping channels is being the flipper. There is a fine art to flipping channels, an art lost on most men who rarely pause on anything besides naked women and sporting events. Also, as the flipper, the rapidly changing picture isn’t annoying. The person actually in control of the flipping enjoys it.
“If you don’t find something to watch soon, I’m going to call my cable company and report you for abuse.”
“Go ahead.” I took another sip of wine. “If they don’t like it, they can fuck off.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but you’re kind of sexy when you are in a bad mood.”
“I’m well past being in a bad mood.”
“I am a very fortunate man.” He took a deep swallow of wine and sighed when I stopped the television on a channel with a documentary on it.
I said, “I’ve often wondered if dinosaurs really looked like we think. I mean, sure we can get the bones together. But, hell, for all we know, some of them could have been purple.”
He laughed. “I’m sure there are people who get paid a great deal of money to think about things like that.”
“Sometimes I think I’d like a simple job. Maybe I’d like to be that person who sits by the Emergency Alert System button. I mean, seriously, beyond the tests, has that thing actually ever been used? I don’t think so.”
“I doubt somebody is sitting beside it.”
“Don’t ruin my stress-free fantasy. If you can’t contribute to it, just be quiet.” I looked from my empty glass to the bottle and frowned. I really didn’t need another glass.
“Are you going to tell what’s wrong?”
“I had a meeting today with Edward Morrison; it had been planned for some time. However, he called a few weeks ago and added Jeff King to the meeting, and Jane didn’t tell me. I found out this morning. He showed up, we had a meeting, he asked me to have dinner with him, and I told him no.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly
, his voice full surprise and anger.
“What? Was I supposed to come running to you with my problem?” I demanded, and then flushed at the harsh tone I’d used. “It was less stressful than I’d thought it would be, and a great deal more painful.” I cleared my throat.
I watched him pour more wine into my glass, and I met his gaze. His face, beautiful and angelic, was a picture of anger. Watching him fight past his own anger was an interesting experience. Jealous of the control he had, I turned away from him and shrugged.
“The fact that you had to be in the same room with that bastard makes me sick.”
“It’s my own fault. Had I pressed charges, even if he’d gone free…” I sighed. “Even if he’d been found not guilty of assaulting me, I doubt Edward would have brought him to Boston for today’s meeting.”
“Did you tell Edward what happened to you?”
“No. He knew that Jeff and I didn’t part on good terms, but I think he assumed it was professional. Two months before it happened, I was promoted above him. It wasn’t a secret that Jeff resented it. It hardly mattered that I had more experience and education.”
“He resented you.”
“At first his comments seemed like good-natured teasing. But when others would’ve let it go, he continued. It never occurred to me that…he would be violent.”
“Until he raped you.”
“Yes.” I swallowed hard. I hated hearing Shame say it.
Shame spoke again. “I’d like to think that I could make this all right for you. I want to believe that I can make you forget the man ever existed, but I know that’s not within my abilities. I hate him for touching you in a way that cannot be wiped away or forgotten.”
His words were tight and controlled. I could see the frustration and anger in him.
“I know.”
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“No.” I set my wine down. “Will you take me to bed?”
“Are you sure that’s what you want right now?”
“It’s what I need.”
He stood and pulled me from the couch. I followed him up the stairs, slipping my hands into the back pockets of his jeans. He turned to me and brought me close as we stopped by the bed. His eyes were dark and intent on my face as he pulled my blouse from the waistband of my skirt and then unbuttoned it. He pushed the silk off my shoulders, and I let it fall to the floor.
