by Faver, JD
“I know, but that one was so big and Jon said it was brilliant. I don’t have anything else to equal it.” She turned to Willa. “You said it was the cornerstone of the show.”
“That was just bullshit.” Willa leaned back on the futon and stretched out her legs. “Each and every one of your paintings is equal to this one. The only person who’s going to have a sinking spell is Oleg Cantwell. He’s been counting on this for his client.”
Max’s hands flew to her face. “Oh, I forgot about him.” She rose to stand in front of the painting and put her hand in the gash. “What am I going to do now?”
Willa yawned and pulled the duvet around her shoulders. “You’re going to paint something else for him. He won’t know the difference.”
Merrick went to stand beside Max. “This painting still looks good. It’s just got a big rip in it.”
She leaned against him as they stared at the remains. “Maybe I could cut it up and make a smaller canvas.”
“I’ll help,” he said.
Willa yawned again and closed her eyes. “Or you can just stitch it up.”
When Max looked around, Willa was sound asleep. “Take sleeping beauty home, bro,” she said.
“She is, isn’t she?” Merrick removed the duvet and lifted her in his arms. “You should have seen her at the gallery. She’s amazing.”
“Willa has always been amazing. It’s about time you got around to noticing.” Max closed the door behind them and turned back to the painting.
When Jon arrived, he saw the ravaged painting. She told him about Cherise’s destruction of the work.
“I can’t believe she’d do such a thing,” he said.
She shot him a look. “Believe it.”
“How upset is Max?”
“Beyond pissed. This was a commissioned work for your friend Oleg Cantwell. Now Max has to start from scratch.”
“Sorry. It was a magnificent work,” Jon put his arm around her shoulder.
“I was told that she knocked it down and put her foot through it after watching you kiss me outside the gallery.” She turned to face him. “What could make a woman that angry? Why would seeing her old friend kiss someone cause her to flip out and destroy a painting?”
“What are you implying?”
“That there’s more to your relationship with her than you’re telling me.” She turned away from him and went to stare out the bank of windows on the north wall. “Look, Jon, I know I’m not the first woman in your life, but if you’re in the middle of an affair with Cherise Gilman, let me out.”
He followed her and lightly massaged the tense muscles in her shoulders. “I’m not involved with Cherise. It was never serious. We only had a few dates. When I got to know her I found I didn’t want to continue, so I bowed out. I didn’t know she had any leftover feelings.”
“Apparently she does.”
He turned her around to face him. “You said it yourself. You’re not the first woman I’ve known and I’m not the first man in your life. It doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. Everything else in my life was leading up to this moment. You’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
She brushed away the tear that trailed down her cheek. “You broke up with Cherise when you got to know her better. Perhaps you should get to know me before you make such broad statements.”
“Okay,” he said. “After the opening, we’ll take a trip far away from everyone and everything we know. We’ll go to Aruba or Cayman and walk on the beach and watch sunsets together until we know enough about each other to make a lifetime commitment.”
She sniffled and gave him a dimpled grin. “That sounds like heaven.”
“Anywhere we’re together is heaven.”
“I have to go to the gallery in hell tomorrow to help hang the paintings. I dread facing Cherise.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll be embarrassed over her behavior.”
“I’ll get through it, but I’m really tired. It’s been an emotional day. Would you forgive me if I turn in early?”
He kissed her and held her for a moment before stepping away. “I take it you mean to sleep by yourself, so I’ll say goodnight.”
Once alone, she soaked in her newly enclosed tub and curled up on the futon, staring at the devastated painting until sleep overtook her.
~*~
Merrick beat on her door early the next morning and found her with a paring knife in her hand. She’d slashed the huge painting in several places and was shredding the canvas forming a fringe protruding out of the frame.
“Wow!”
“What do you think?”
“Put down that knife and I’ll tell you.”
“Smart ass.”
“It’s amazing. What gave you the idea to do this? It’s not like anything you’ve ever done.”
Max stepped back from the canvas. Squinting her eyes, she viewed the work through narrowed slits. “When I came to terms with the fact that my painting had been violated I was able to see it in a new context. I learned that the paint had transcended the two dimensional surface and it was screaming to be released.”
He turned to stare at her, his mouth agape. “Max, you’re speaking a foreign language. Could you give me a down and dirty translation?”
She snorted. “No, Merrick. I’m speaking in art bullshit. I’m taking lessons from Willa.”
“We have to go set up the paintings.”
“Give me five minutes.” She tossed the knife in the sink and sorted through her tubes of oil paints. She squirted several shades of red on a disposable foam plate and smeared the colors on the ragged canvas in a seemingly random array with her largest brush. “That’s it!”
“It looks awesome,” he said. “You’re going to leave it like this?”
“It’s just the way I want it. Let’s go.”
On the way to the gallery, she used his cell phone to call Jon. She explained the situation and asked him to send the Claremont truck again to transport the painting.
“Tell them the paint is fresh so they have to handle with extreme care.”
“I’ll go with them,” Jon said.
“I left the door open.”
When Max and Merrick got to the gallery they received a distinctly chilly reception from Cherise Gilman. She nodded at Merrick, ignored Max and retreated to her office, slamming the door.
Merrick set about hanging the paintings, under Max’s direction. He was adjusting the lighting when Jon arrived with the Claremont truck. Merrick supervised the men unloading the painting and had it placed against the wall in the spot Max indicated.
When Jon entered the gallery, he went straight to Merrick. “Max,” he said. “The way you resurrected the painting is brilliant. It’s the most dynamic piece in the whole collection.” He shook Merrick’s hand heartily.
Merrick glanced at Max. “Glad you like it.”
Jon gazed at him, his brows knit into a frown. “How did you conceive of something like this?”
Merrick cleared his throat and gave Max another concerned glance. “I, I came to terms with the fact that the painting had been violated and I, uh, saw it in a new context.”
Max was nodding her head vigorously. “Amazing.”
“The paint had transcended its two-dimensional plane and was screaming to be released.” Merrick finished with a grin.
Jon stood before the work reverently, shaking his head in awe. “Brilliant!”
Max spoke up. “Max calls it ‘Overkill’.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“What shall I wear?” Max wailed.
“You need something spectacular.” Willa grabbed her hand, grinning broadly. “You need something red.”
“Red? Why red?”
“Because it photographs well and there will be lots of photographers there. Change into your good undies and bring the Manolos. We have to shop.”
“But I just bought three whole dresses and I haven’t even worn one of them yet.”
&n
bsp; “Great dresses, but not spectacular enough, Max. Think of this as your debut, your coming out party, if you will.”
“What about Jon? He doesn’t know I’m coming out.”
Willa gave her a long look. “It’s time he found out the truth about Max Foster.”
Max let out a groan and closed her eyes. She sank onto the futon as she ground her teeth and clenched her fists. “I don’t want to hurt Jon. He’s done nothing to deserve being treated so badly.”
“Do you want to tell him or shall I?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, come on.” Willa gestured toward the door. “You have to have the right dress to wear to your outing.”
Max took little pleasure in the shopping expedition. She let Willa choose the dress. It was definitely red and it had sequins and tiny straps.
Willa nodded her head. “You’re way hot.”
“It’s the appropriate dress to wear if I’m going to burn in hell.”
Willa gave her a startled glance. “Lying isn’t one of the seven deadly sins, is it?”
Max huffed out a sigh. “No. Maybe I’m just going to rot in purgatory.”
Willa shrugged. “Beats hell.”
Max made a face. “I don’t care about the hereafter at this point. I want to know how I can tell Jon that I’ve been tooling him around since the day I met him.”
“I’m not sure. He did make a big deal out of the fact that he hated liars.”
Max spun around in a circle, her hands over her eyes. “That’s it! I’m not going to tell him. After the show he’s taking me on a trip so we can get to know each other better. I’ll tell him then.”
“You don’t want to go to your own one-man show as yourself? Honey, you can’t do that.”
“I can. You said it’s all about the paycheck. Jon told me that some paintings may be sold on the night of the show and I’m okay with Merrick taking center stage.” She nodded her head. “Merrick makes a better Max than I do.”
“Oh, honey,” Willa said softly. “You really must love this guy.”
That night, Max and Jon had dinner at a quiet restaurant near his flat.
“Is Max excited about the opening tomorrow night?” Jon asked.
“Yes. He still wants to choke the life out of Cherise, but he’ll get through the night without murdering her.”
“The painting was great before but it’s even better now. She did him a favor.”
She threw him a sharp look across the table. “Don’t say that to Max. He’s still very angry. We don’t like destructive people.”
Jon’s eyes narrowed as he gave her an appraising look. “Oh, we don’t? Since when are you and Max a unit? Or is there something you want to tell me?”
“Since you started defending your psychotic girlfriend’s criminal behavior.”
“I wasn’t defending Cherise and she’s not my girlfriend. I just said the painting turned out even better.”
Max took a bite of her food. She chewed thoughtfully and swallowed, giving herself time to edit the response that sprang to mind. “Do you think we could have a conversation that didn’t revolve around Cherise or Max?”
Jon took a deep breath and expelled it. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea. We can talk about your loft. How is the bathroom working for you?”
Max flashed a sudden grin. “I love it. There’s a door on the loo now. I haven’t painted it and I haven’t had a chance to pick out the lighting fixtures yet, but it’s made a big difference in my simple little life.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He smiled at her.
“Your design is wonderful and I thank you for finding a style that suits my quirky nature.”
The look he sent her was scorching. “I love your quirky nature.”
She felt a sudden rush of heat, knew that she was blushing and looked down at her hands, tightly clasped on the table.
Jon reached over to place his hand on top of hers. “What’s the next step?”
She interlaced her fingers with his. “I’m satisfied for a while. Maybe I’ll take the next step at a later date.”
“I could help you,” Jon said.
Max gave him a look across the table. “When we come back from wherever you’re taking me, we’ll talk about it, if you still want to.”
“I’ll still want to. Do you like the bed?”
“I love the bed but it’s too impractical. I will buy a new mattress but I’ll never spend that kind of money on a bed. It’s all about sleeping, isn’t it?”
“It’s all about sleeping well and letting your dreams take over.”
Max tilted her head to one side. “What do you dream about, Jon?”
Jon’s face softened. “When I was a child, I used to dream of flying.” He kissed her fingers. “Now I dream of you.”
A wide grin spread across her face. “Stop it, you sweet talker.”
Jon’s cell phone rang. He glanced at the number. “I’d better take this,” he said.
Max listened to Jon’s brief conversation.
“That was Dean, my old frat brother. He’s doing the catering. He asked if he could use the company truck to transport cases of wine and alcohol for the bar. I’m sure he’ll be careful with it.”
“I’m glad you know how to put these things together,” she said.
“I’m an old hand at this.”
They went to Jon’s place after dinner. Max brushed her teeth and replaced her toothbrush next to Jon’s. She kissed her finger and placed it against the handle of his toothbrush. She turned to find Jon leaning against the doorjamb with an amused expression on his face.
“Lucky toothbrush,” he said.
“Lucky you. You get kissed whenever you want.” She walked into his outstretched arms and delivered the first of many kisses to follow.
~*~
Merrick had asked Willa to come to his house for dinner. Following his directions had taken her north of Houston to a relatively new gated community. Although many of the homes were inhabited, there were also lots measured off with no houses and new houses without tenants. The young trees and new landscaping gave the area a tentative feeling. Willa noticed high-end SUVs parked in some of the driveways.
She wondered why Merrick had chosen this unlikely location for his bachelor quarters. She pulled into his driveway and saw his truck inside the open garage. It was a beautiful two-story brick house, a perfect place for a young professional couple to raise their kids.
Willa blinked.
What a thought. Merrick with kids?
She chuckled. Yeah, she could see Merrick with kids. He’d zip them in their lifejackets and teach them to sail. He’d take ownership of them the way he took care of everything that belonged to him.
Willa sat gripping the steering wheel. Do I belong to Merrick?
“Not going there.” She exited the Jaunty Jetta and walked up to Merrick’s front door. She rang the doorbell and admired the leaded glass insert in the front door panel.
The aroma of something cooking wafted out to meet her as Merrick opened the door.
“You cook?” Willa feigned amazement.
“I’ve survived so far.” Merrick invited Willa to enter his front door. He greeted her with a warm embrace and led her into his home. Blondie flanked Merrick’s other side.
The great room had vaulted ceilings and a black marble fireplace surround. Willa verbally praised the various unique architectural details, but secretly found the room cold and uninviting. Typically male black leather sofas flanked the fireplace. The walls were white and the windows opening into the back yard had no draperies.
“Did you just move in?” she asked.
“I’ve been here for the past year and a half. Why do you ask?”
“Drapes? Color on the walls? Your sister is an artist. Where are the paintings?”
“I’ve been too busy to take care of the details,” he said. “Being self employed and trying to manage two building sites, keeping Max out of trouble and having a sail occasional
ly is all I can handle.” He grinned and motioned to her. “Come this way.”
She followed him into the kitchen. “A white kitchen,” she said. “I’m beginning to sense a theme here.”
“The countertops are black granite,” he pointed out. “How do you like your steak?”
“Medium,” she said. “Almost rare. Not too well-done.”
“One steak for the lady, just right.” He placed three thick slabs of beef on the preheated indoor grill.
“That’s pretty sweet,” she said. “In fact, this is a fine kitchen. The lay-out is excellent.”
“Thank you. I try to design kitchens that are beautiful as well as functional.”
“You designed this house?” Willa saw the dimpled grin quirk around Merrick’s mouth.
“I designed most of the custom homes in this community.” Merrick was openly grinning at her now.
“Well, I’m impressed.”
He leaned over to brush a kiss against her cheek. “You should be.”
The steak was just right, according to Willa’s standards. He added green beans with button mushrooms, a salad and baked potato to her plate and served her in the kitchen. He cut the third steak into bites and scraped it into Blondie’s bowl.