“What if I want to buy one? What if I want to buy them all?”
People were slowly starting to turn and stare at them. Both of them. Sam felt their eyes on him and he started to sweat. The suit grew uncomfortably hot and clammy real fast. He swallowed hard and blinked, trying to clear the pain pulsing behind his eyes.
“They aren’t for sale,” Amy insisted.
“Oh, I think they are. You have price tags on them.”
“They’re already sold.”
“To who?” Richard glanced around the room.
The guests close by started to lean in and whisper back and forth. The sound of it, the hissing, grated on Sam’s already shot nerves.
“To… they’re just not for sale to you,” Amy insisted.
“Oh. Well that clarifies things a little.” Richard stepped forward, calm and collected, straight faced, greasy as scum.
He got right up in Sam’s personal space, but stopped a few inches shy. He extended a hand and waited. Those cool blue eyes of his bore right through Sam. The guy had the kind of face that women loved. All hard edges and angles, the kind of planes that looked like they’d cut glass. He had that classy, age old, pretty boy kind of look.
It burned him right up that he looked nothing like that. Not because he wanted to. No, he’d rather cut off both his nuts than look like some suave piece of shit. He liked that he had dark eyes, an honest face, scars and wear and tear that came from hard work. He would never want to be considered pretty and he was damn thankful for that.
What he didn’t fucking like was that at one time, hell, maybe even currently, Amy had found that weasel attractive. At one time, he’d fucked her. God, the image of her under him, moaning for him, making those animalistic sounds of pleasure she’d made with him… it drove him mental. Worse than mental. All he saw was black. Rage rose up, swift and violent inside of him, cutting off any good sense he might have had left.
He didn’t even know he’d moved until suddenly he was standing face to face with the guy. He was much larger, he realized right away, and stronger. Richard might have thought he was hot shit, but it turned out when Sam closed in on him, he began to show his true colors. He took a step back and glanced nervously at Amy.
“No,” Sam said roughly. “Don’t look at her. Your time with her is over. She’s made that pretty clear on more than one occasion. You didn’t realize what a gift you had when she was yours. You didn’t treat her like she deserved to be treated. You ran around on her like she was nothing. Nothing!”
“Sam!” Amy tugged on his arm. He heard the urgency in her voice, but he didn’t turn. He couldn’t stop.
“She asked you politely not to come. She didn’t give you an invitation because she no longer wants you in her life or in her business. She’d said that her paintings are not for sale to you and since she made them, she can choose who they go to. So now I’m going to ask you. I’m only going to ask once. Please. Leave. Do not come back. Ever.”
Richard glanced at him for a moment then over again at Amy. Sam wanted to plant his fist in the guy’s face for even daring to look at her after he’d told him not to. The scumbag had the nerve to smile. He shook his head.
“Relax, my man. I just came by to offer congrats on your engagement. I heard the news and I wanted to meet you for myself. Amy still means a lot to me. We might be divorced, but she’ll always mean something. I just wanted to make sure she was in good hands. I see now that she’s got herself a bulldog.” His eyes strayed back to Amy’s face. “Where did you find him, Amy? Taking home strays again?”
“That’s enough,” Amy hissed. She tugged on Sam’s arm again. “Just please leave, Richard. This evening isn’t about you. It isn’t about us. It’s about the fact that I love art and it’s what I do for a living. I wanted this to be a good night.”
“And I’ve ruined it?” The guy not only looked like a Hollywood actor, he could have played one. He offered a perfectly insincere smile. “I’m sorry if you feel that way. I wish you both the best. Really, I do. You have my blessing.”
“We don’t need your damn blessing,” Sam ground out. “Now. Are you going to leave or do I have to show you the way?”
Richard chuckled, that fake kind of sound that only a bastard like him could pull off. “I just want to hear it from Amy that she’s happy and then I’ll go.”
“Richard! We could do this some other time,” Amy choked out.
Sam glanced at her and he didn’t know what to think when he saw that her face was scarlet. Was she angry? With him or with Richard or both? Or was she just that mortified.
“No. I just want to hear it. Just one word from you, Amy and I’ll leave. Like I said, I still care about you. I care what happens to you. I want to make sure that you’re happy with this…” Richard’s gaze flicked over Sam like he was of no consequence at all. “Well. We both know that he can’t take care of you the way I could.”
That was it. Sam couldn’t control the sweep of blackness that closed in on him again. His fists itched to plant one right in the guy’s face and he just about did it. The entire room was gathered, staring at them by now. He didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care about a single one of them there. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Amy, though. Tears welled up in her huge eyes and she blinked hard, obviously trying not to get them to spill over. He thought about her and her mom. He thought about how disappointed his parents would be in him. It was the only thing that stopped him.
“Leave,” he repeated. He pointed in the direction of the door. “Amy can make her own choices. She doesn’t need to reaffirm anything with you. If she doesn’t want to be with me, she’s free to go. Unlike you, I’ll do everything in my power to make her happy. Unlike you, I would never cheapen her or forget what she’s worth.”
Richard stood his ground. He was about to open his mouth, but Sam couldn’t stand there and listen to another word. He shrugged Amy off and clamped his hand down hard on Richard’s arm. It grossed him out to even touch the filth. He started walking, half propelling, half dragging Richard along with him.
“What do you think you’re doing!” Richard spluttered.
“The door is this way, buddy. I’m just showing you to it.”
“I’ll go,” Richard bit out. “I’ll go. No need for you to act like a brute and embarrass yourself.”
“The only embarrassing thing here tonight is you.” Sam removed his hand anyway. The guy was a lawyer. He didn’t want to give the guy provocation to have him thrown in jail. As angry as he was, that would make everything a hundred times worse.
Richard turned and stormed off. His shoes actually clicked on the hardwood floor, just like a set of high heels would. Sam tried very hard not to laugh. The guy probably had never dirtied his hands in his life. He was so pretty, he almost was feminine. Sam might not have a shit pile of money, but he sure as hell didn’t miss it, if having it meant looking and acting like the man in front of him.
No, man was too kind of a word.
While he was trying to figure out exactly what term suited Richard best, he lost focus for a second. The guy was nearing the open front door. Sam though he’d just walk through it and that would be the end of it.
Fuck, was he wrong.
He didn’t see the sucker punch coming until it was too late. It landed hard, right in the center of his stomach.
The blackness in his head, a cross between anger and that damn pulsing headache that had plagued him all day, closed in. Everything went dark. The air rushed out of his lungs as he fell to his knees. The pain bloomed through his insides, cutting off any sane thought. He tried to take a breath, but there was no drawing air into his lungs. He put out a hand to catch himself as he fell forward. He coughed and spluttered, aware that he must look like a damn idiot. Spittle flew out of his mouth.
And then, through the haze of pain and blackness, Richard’s face appeared next to his.
“Don’t forget,” he hissed as he bent next to Sam. “That you are nothing. Amy knows that. Nothi
ng.”
And then, because the evening and the humiliation he’d already suffered wouldn’t be complete without a good old dose of spittle, Richard gobbed right on Sam’s face.
All that Sam could think, as the click of Richard’s shoes walked through the door, down the steps and faded into the night, was it might have actually been a good thing he was paralyzed from the pain at the moment. If he wasn’t, there was a good chance he might have killed the bastard.
Chapter 16
Give Him Some Air
Amy
Sam down on the floor, doubled over in a fetal position and gasping for air after having just been laid out by her asshole of an ex-husband… it was so not how she imagined the evening going.
If her friends ate up drama like she thought they did, she’d sell every single painting in the gallery and probably have commissions for years to come. She just wished it didn’t have to come at Sam’s expense.
“Okay, okay, everyone give him some air.” She knew it was up to her to disperse the crowd gathered around. She tried a smile, but it fell flat. “Show’s over unfortunately. This show. Not the gallery show. Feel free to walk around. Let me know if you’re interested in anything. I’m going to help Sam upstairs and then I’ll be back down in a little bit.”
She bent and fortunately most of the crowd assembled meandered off. She knew the people there and now that the drama had played out, they didn’t care to see the messier side of the aftermath. It was far more important to have a few drinks, stare at some art and try and outdo one another with conversations on business, sports, or heaven forbid, politics. Not a single person there stayed to offer help or ask her if she was sure she didn’t need a hand even getting Sam out of there. Not one.
Says a lot about the people I choose to associate with and call friends. She tried not to think what it also said about her. Sam was right. She wasn’t the old Amy anymore. She didn’t even know who that fearless, take on any challenge, crass, humorous, devil may care, girl was anymore.
“Sam!” She set a hand on his shoulder. He was still gasping for air. He hadn’t opened his eyes or uncurled. A clear strand of spittle dribbled from his bottom lip. It wasn’t bloody. She hoped that was a good sign. “Sam, are you okay?”
He cracked an eye and stared up at her. He tried to wheeze something out, but all that came out as a choked sound.
“It’s okay. Just… just lay there until you can get up. I’ll take you upstairs. Or should I call an ambulance?”
He managed to shake his head from side to side. She kept her hand on his arm. He was soaking wet through the suit jacket. It was hot in the room, but probably from the pain as well. She stroked his arm and shoulder uselessly, wishing there was something more she could do. She felt so damn helpless. And completely responsible.
Finally Sam unfurled just a little. He moved his legs and took a raspy breath. Once that first gulp of air filled up his lungs, it seemed to be much smoother sailing. He started breathing normally and was able to push himself up to a sitting position. Amy backed up, waiting, trying to give him space.
“If you look at me like that,” Sam wheezed. “I’m going to think this is worse than it is.”
She shook her head. “Oh, Sam. Fuck, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. He wasn’t supposed to show up here. I never thought he’d actually have the balls. God. I told him not to come. I made that very clear.”
“You- were talking to him?”
She sighed. She didn’t like the flash of anger that darkened Sam’s eyes. Anger or jealousy? She was a little taken aback.
“He came here before I sent out invites to the show. I didn’t want him here and made it pretty clear I didn’t want him at the show.”
“Why did you even answer the door.”
“I don’t have a peephole. I didn’t know it was him.”
“Right.”
She sighed. “Look, Sam. Let’s just go upstairs, okay? Don’t you think everyone’s had enough of a show tonight?”
“Sorry I didn’t spar back,” he said scathingly as he stumbled into a standing position.
She took his arm to help support him. He tried to shrug her off, but she remained where she was. “Nope. Not getting rid of me that easy. And that’s not what I was talking about. It’s a good thing you didn’t lay a hand on him. Not only would he make you pay, and dearly for it, because he’s a supreme dick, but everyone here tonight gets to see what an asshole he is. Richard rarely shows his more sinister side. I’m glad they got to witness it firsthand.”
“Glad to be of service. You know, as your punching bag to increase your popularity.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Amy hissed. “Stop twisting everything I say around.”
“I wasn’t twisting that one.”
Sam started walking towards the hall that led to her upstairs apartment. She stayed beside him, even though he probably didn’t need her there. After the shock of being winded had worn off, he seemed to be fine. Which was a relief. She didn’t know what she would have done if he’d been truly hurt. Likely die of guilt.
She breathed a sigh of relief when they were safely in her apartment. She locked the door and leaned against it, as though by doing so she could block out the world below. A word she had wanted so desperately to belong to. Or at least, she thought she did. Now, she wasn’t so sure. It was funny, Sam walked into her life and in a matter of minutes, he showed her what she’d been too blind to see all those years.
Sam made it over to the couch and sunk down heavily. He rasped out a breath and she did the only thing she could think to do; get him a glass of water. She set it down on the coffee table in front of him. He didn’t reach for it.
Amy eased herself down into the huge yellow chair that was beside the couch. She took pride in her vintage finds and the mid-century modern chair was one of her favorites. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was pretty.
“So…” Sam shook his head. “Looks like I’ve fucked this thing up both times for you. I didn’t mean to. Honestly, it was not my intention.”
“Yeah. I know.” She struggled not to smile, but it was a battle she lost. A giggle escaped and it actually felt good to laugh.
“I didn’t think you’d find this funny.”
“I seriously don’t. No, I just… it’s ironic. You’re right. This whole thing has gone completely down the drain and yet… I’m pretty sure I might have just got what I was after.”
Sam frowned, clearly puzzled. “I… I’m not sure I’m tracking here. It could have been the killer blow to the stomach that has kind of shut my damn brain down.”
“Richard. I wanted him out of my life. I wanted him to stop keeping tabs. That’s going to be pretty hard for him to do now that everyone here saw what he can be like. People have a pretty good poker face, but I doubt that they’ll do him many favors in the future, especially when it comes to reporting back about me. I think it sent the message pretty clear that I’ve moved on. And uh- you taking that cheap shot… people aren’t going to be in his corner after they all witnessed that.”
“I really fucking hope not. I would hate to have to take another.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. You won’t have to deal with Richard again. I’m pretty sure he’s finished with trying to do whatever he was trying to do.”
“Yeah… well…”
“And after tonight, I’m sure my gallery will be sold out. People love a good story. They’re not going to turn up the chance to buy something just so they can talk to me about the drama that went down here tonight.”
“There you go. You’ll get exactly what you wanted.”
“Yeah. Once I sell all the paintings I’ve been working on, and I’ve been working on them for over a year, then I’ll have enough money to move mom and dad to the city. Maybe find dad an apartment and put mom into a care facility or hire a full time nurse once they are closer.”
Sam paused. “I’m- I’m sorry about your mom, Amy. That’s rough. I didn’t know she was do
ing so bad. My mom never said anything.”
“She tries to be brave for everyone. I didn’t really even know until dad had a talk with me. She somehow always seems to have a good day when I’m around. It’s like she’s willing herself to do it so that I’m not worried about her all the time.”
“If your dad finally said something then it must have been bad.”
“I think so. He didn’t really say much, just that he was getting older and mom was getting worse and she was going to start needing more care than he could give her. It really fucked him up to have to tell me that. I mean, it was like admitting defeat. It’s going to be way harder or mom. She likes being independent and this is going to be a hard blow for her. It’s also having to admit for her, that things aren’t the way they used to be and that the disease is really getting serious. She’s only going to get worse and I know that, but I keep hoping that it’s just really slow. That I still have lots of time with her. I’m scared, Sam, for the end. MS can be so terrible.”
Sam nodded, grim faced. He chewed at his lower lip and she knew that he had no idea what to say. Which was okay. She didn’t either. What is there really to say? Nothing. Nothing at all.
“Uh- well- I guess that’s the end of it then?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, this. If you have the money and you’re rid of Richard, at least for the time being, you can say I packed up and went home. People won’t really wonder. They’ll just keep asking you when I’m moving down from New York or when you’re moving there.”
“Colorado.”
“What?”
“I thought it was supposed to be Colorado.”
“Whatever. You probably really don’t need me to stick around and risk messing this up further, do you?”
“I…” Amy didn’t like the way her chest tightened and her heart missed several beats. A wave of panic, followed by a wave of pain, washed over her. She was hot and cold all at once, tingly and icy and achy at the thought of Sam being done with her… maybe for good. “Can we still be friends?” The word hurt. Friends. It seemed so fucking empty. She’d run away from being just friends all those years ago.
Fake It: A Sizzling Hot Pretend Romance Page 9