The Artist

by Kay Gee

  Chapter 2:

  Poppy was shaking as she left, the whole way down in the lift she was just waiting for Bennett to come running after her yelling, as she walked out the building she half expected him to throw something at her head, or at least phone his agency. Part of her knew it wouldn't be his style, he wasn't a coward and was more than ready to fight, but the other part of her wondered if she had pushed him too far.

  She walked out into the sun and made her way back to her friend Maggie’s, she had been sofa surfing for a while and the majority of her things she’d been forced to send back to her mums. She missed her stuff, all the pictures that should have been on a wall, her wall. She had trusted Jason to pay the rent bill after giving him the money. Instead he had taken it and spent it towards this agency, she hadn't known until it was too late and at that point her landlord had already found someone to take over her flat.

  Along the way she bought a bottle of cheap wine and some snacks, money was really tight at the moment but the agency had given her a deposit and she had tried to give some of that to Maggie for the rent, her friend wouldn't hear of such a thing. Maggie had also lived in a small country village but left in a scandal, although she was a couple of years older than Poppy in a small town it wasn't acceptable for a girl in her twenties to date a man in his early thirties. Her and Daniel's relationship had been the talk of the town until he had left her for another woman, humiliated she'd been all but driven out by everyone but Poppy. On reflection Poppy should have known Jason was a cheat, his uncle Daniel was a womanizer and so was his father.

  Maggie was out when she arrived home, the clock had just reached 12 but Poppy poured herself a large glass of wine and put the TV on. She hated this, drinking in the day, she had never been a major party girl, though whenever the village party boy, Jasper, threw a bash in the woods she was always there. There was something about wine though, it helped her to relax, stretching her neck she sat on the sofa and started flicking through channels, and as usual it was crap TV. Infomercials telling her to buy things she had no money for, adverts for pills that had more side effects then it was worth taking them for, TV shows about women shouting at each other, finally she switched to the travel channel.

  She had always wanted to travel, see the world, as a child she'd dreamt of faraway places like Paris or Rome. Her mother was a police officer, permenantly retired now, so her salary wasn't high. After her dad left he agreed to give her mum an allowance but it wasn’t enough. Babysitting jobs and waitressing had started once she was old enough, it supplemented her income. They both gave her some money when she left for London, it had been frittered away, she had only been in London for a year but already she had aged. She couldn't turn back now and ask for more money from her parents. This Bennett job would set her up for a couple of months, give her both an income and somewhere to stay. It was her first job as a muse.

  Maggie had suggested it, they both got tipsy one night on a bottle of Tequila and came across the job advert on Google. It was an agency and after a phone interview and a face to face she was hired. She quickly found out they were taking on someone specifically for Bennett. He had frightened away ever other muse in the city if not in person then by reputation alone. Her boss Ashley seemed relieved when she took the job, which should have been her first clue.

  By the time Maggie was home the bottle was empty and the evidence discarded. Poppy was watching TV; her bags were packed ready for the morning and the pizza was due to arrive any minute. Maggie worked as a paralegal sectary for a small firm in the city, she loved her job and with her charm, cunning and intelligence she was quickly climbing the ladder to success.

  Huffing as she came in she kicked off her heels and asked Poppy about her day, she was curious to hear all about Bennett Clay, the bad boy of art. 'He was even ruder then I've heard, like he literally told me he does not want me there. He doesn't even seem to want to paint, he's some spoiled rich kid whose Billionaire parents let him get away with everything.' Poppy finished up after telling Maggie the whole story, she even mimicked his posh accent when she spoke his parts. Maggie was impressed by Poppy flipping out at Bennett, recently her friend had become subdued thanks to Jason, seeing her with some spark gave her comfort. 'I would really like to meet this guy myself, I bet you're doing him a kindness,' she said. 'Well,' her friend said, 'tomorrow I move in so you can always come over and visit, meet the monster himself.'

  After the girls finished eating and Maggie broke out another bottle of wine, Poppy fell asleep on the sofa, drooling as she dreamed of Bennett and the new life she would start tomorrow.

  It was the next morning when Poppy arrived, the door man had to swipe his key-card in the lift so she could go to the penthouse, apparently, Bennett was still not keen on her working with him. He was friendly enough, with light blue eyes and blonde hair, very boy next door. His name was Andy he told her as he carried her two bags (he insisted on taking them both), she walked straight into the open apartment and looked around, Andy put down her bags and retreated downstairs telling her if she needed anything else to let him know.

  'Bennett!' Poppy shouted out, ‘I hope the fact you didn’t meet me this morning means you’re up and painting!’ She took a moment to look around, the last time she was there she couldn't take in her surroundings. The penthouse was massive, open and clean, a large open plan kitchen area was to her left, it was a kitchen she would never be able to afford. All the utensils and counter tops glistened. It even had a shiny black aga that looked like it had never been used. Poppy huffed, of course nothing in here had been used, he probably lived in restaurants. The apartments view was spectacular, the whole back wall was a tinted window and it overlooked the beautiful streets of Chelsea.

  She was looking out the window when he walked behind her, of course he heard her calling him, the whole bloody city probably heard it. There was something about her in that moment, looking out the window, peacefully, it caught him off guard. He didn't want the moment to end but he spoke up regardless, 'cough cough' he motioned as she jumped, that made him smirk, she hadn't noticed him. 'So sorry to distract you love,' he drawled, 'but since you're insisting on moving in like an unwelcome infestation perhaps you'd be so kind as to pick up your crap and move it to your room?' he kicked her bag as he spoke.

  'Just point me in the direction,' she said and he motioned for her to follow, huffing she picked up her bags, of course he wouldn't actually help and carry one. He stood in the doorway watching as she started to unpack, the room of course was amazing. A huge double bed of a dark mahogany filled the room, deep red curtains hung from the ceiling and plush carpet covered the floor. A beautiful dressing table and wardrobe took up the rest of the space, but it didn't even come close to filling the room, it was easily bigger then Maggie’s entire apartment, the bathroom was amazing, a huge tub sat in the middle of the room, behind it was a double shower and the floor was a white marble. It even had a giant Hollywood mirror covering the wall for her to do her make up.

  He watched in amusement as she looked around, clearly she was trying not to look impressed, 'I know it's probably very exciting for you to actually see how the other half live up close, I imagine there's quite a difference from the hovel you called home but if you could refrain from posting your little Instagram pictures and inviting all your sad little friends over I'd be so happy'. His voice heavy with sarcasm. She didn't even respond, instead just gave him a dirty look and continued opening her bags.

  He smirked again, yes, he thought, it's going to be fun to torture this one. Once she had unpacked Bennett took her on a tour, his room was of course ostentatious, 'it's almost like you're compensation' she quipped gesturing to his custom-made bed. 'Oh love,' he smirked taking a step and closing the gap between them, 'if you want to see what I've got, you only have to ask.' She rolled her eyes and push past him. The final room they came to was his studio. It was easily the biggest room, the only one upstairs and walls had been knocked down opening the space. She couldn't help but gasp
as she saw it, sketches, paintings, doodles and pages just filled the walls, the large table in the center was covered and although to an outsider it was disorganised Poppy knew he probably had some order to the chaos.

  He smiled as he watched her taking it in, yes he was proud of his work, to him it wasn't a job or merely a passion. It was his obsession, drawing and painting everything and anything he could. Scenes that he had witness and places he'd been, people on the streets that had caught his eye, animals that had made him smiles, anything and everything. He admired the beauty in the world, which much was clear to Poppy, each detail was painstakingly drawn and she almost wanted to decline her job then and there. Perfection couldn't be rushed and any work he eventually submitted would surely be breath taking.

  'Why haven't you completed them,' she gestured to the larger canvases against one of the walls, the one on the easel was just blocks of colour, dark reds and blacks merged almost into one, it was dark and tragic but clearly incomplete. There was nothing beautiful about it, instead it was angry. Cold. So unlike the rest of his work. 'What makes you think it isn't finished?' he asked, interested that she'd point it out, he knew it wasn't done, it wasn't even a good start, 'well,' she answered, 'there's no feeling aside from anger, usually your pieces are like a story, even if they start off sad they complete with another emotion,' she couldn't understand the way he looked at her once she said that so she turned back to the painting. Blush crept up her cheeks, it wasn't really her place to critic the art, just to inspire it.

  'Hmmm I knew you were a groupie,' he smirked, she smiled and was relieved that he was joking with her. 'I haven't completed a piece in over a year, my reasons are my own and if you insist on being here and doing you 'job' as you call it then you should know, this room is out of bounds to you, I don't want you sneaking up and seeing how much has or hasn't been done. If I chose to show you something that's different but don't take it upon yourself to come into my personal work space. Don't touch anything if I do invite you up,' he finished and was surprised to see her nodding. He had expected a fight.

  'Well Bennett, I'm going to leave you to it, the soon you get to work the quicker you can invite me up and show me something, I suggest we have dinner together tonight at 7pm and we can talk about how we are going to work together some more.' He agreed to the dinner and she inclined her head before leaving him to his own devices.

  Walking away Poppy thought about the man who she would now live with. The third man, first was her father who had left her, the second was Jason who had practically run away and now Bennett. She wondered how long until she drove him away. She shook her head, can’t drive him away when you aren’t in a relationship. You’re here for a month, get the job done Pops. You NEED this money. The mail from yesterday was in the top of her bag, she had opened one letter and seen the joint account her and Jason had was overdrawn by £10,000.

  She had promptly called the bank to close the account but she needed Jason’s signature, of course he wouldn’t sign. The bank had offered to remove her name from the account but it needed to be paid off first, she had explained her dilemma and Jason would no longer be able to spend money from the account. She just needed to pay off the £10,000, and give some money to Maggie for letting her move in. Then of course find herself a place, a steady job, send some money to her mum to help out. Basically, Poppy was screwed.

  Upstairs Bennett painted. It was the first time in a long time, since it happened. But it was something, moved his hand, a feeling, a desire to paint something light took over. It was different from his old work and the brush seemed to move by itself unguided and it caressed the canvas, no real shapes formed just light blues and whites, a golden yellow and pale pinks seemed to fill the painting until it was complete. It was a feeling more than anything, one he couldn't place, it had been too long since he felt anything.

  He wasn't going to show Poppy, no this was...private. Something just for him, to keep, to remember. He'd lost all track of time until something spicy filled his nose. The smell told him it was dinner already, he had sat for ten hours without moving. Absorbed in his creation. He realised he needed the loo and a drink. After reliving himself he went downstairs and saw Poppy had laid the table, he hadn't had anyone over for dinner in a long time, and certainly hadn't done any cooking.

  She'd changed into a simple white dress, he noted, she looked quite beautiful. He was going to have to rethink seducing her, he didn't mean to drive the others away. He just hated people in his personal space, judging him, waiting for him to perform like some clapping seal. No, his art was his own and just because he showed it and sold it didn't make it any less so.

  He sat at the table, waiting for her to turn around, she jumped a few seconds later when she saw him. 'You really have to stop sneaking up on me,' she reprimanded him. 'Now love,' he said raising his eyebrow at her, 'please tell me how I’m sneaking up on you in my own home?'

  She ignored that question and put a large pot on the table, 'so you had basically no food in the fridge or cupboards so I went out and picked up some groceries, no wonder you can't work, living in restaurants and off take outs.'

  He looked at her in surprise, she served him chilli con carne from the pot and the first mouthful he took was delicious, 'yes' he said after he chewed, 'why don't you tell me how cooking is crucial to art? I know this might seem hard for you to understand, given that your job is basically harassing people with a talent into performing but some of us who live and work in the real world don't have time to cook and plan, I know you seem to think yourself invaluable to the cause but let me give you some real insight love, you're a 'muse' whatever the hell that means. Not only is it not a real job but that also means you don't get to sit and lecture me about my eating habits.' he finished helping himself to more food from the bowl.

  He wasn't going to let her just swan into his home and start dictating how he live his life.

  'Bennett, you don't know anything about me, and yeah I get it, I'm in your space and you think I'm here to watch you and harass you. You produced such amazing stuff up until and year ago,' Poppy said, as she spoke she took out pictures of his work, some were from when they hung in galleries, some were from the internet, 'and then you stopped. Why?' she asked.

  He looked down at the pictures, the memories of them caused him pain, so much so that it was almost physical, he looked up at her, the light behind her shone through her hair casting a halo around her, she was beautiful, and sweet. Innocent. He just shook his head, he couldn't talk about it. She caught the pain in his eyes.

  'Talk to me,' she begged him

  'This may come as a surprise to you, Poppy, but I'm not a terribly good person.' He said.

  'Bennett, if we cannot trust one another, we cannot work together,' she replied.

  ‘No, we cannot.' He pushed back his chair, she held his arm before he left the table, he looked down at her small hand. 'This doesn't have to be one way, I can talk too' she offered.

  'Tell me sweetheart,' he began sarcastically, 'what makes you think even for a second that I care about anything you have to say? Did I really give you that impression? Your sad little life is of no interest to me so please don't be mistaken love, I care nothing for you and one average dinner isn't going to change that. Now if I'm contractually obliged to have you here so be it. But you aren't a therapist and I'm not into sharing.' And with that he left the table, if he'd looked back he would have seen the hurt in Poppy 's eyes. But he didn't. instead he just walked away.

  That night Poppy slept badly, she was haunted by painful memories, her ex and his cheating way, her parents and their disappointment to learn that she didn't have a 'real' career. In her nightmare, Bennetts' face and voice mocked her. In truth, she had no idea what she was doing here. She was not cut out for this, to put up with his bullshit. After she'd left him yesterday she snooped around, in his study she found hidden pictures of who she assumed was his family. He either had a lot of brothers or cousins, his mum looked miserable, in fact they all did. W
ell except for his father who looked nasty. The older man's hand was clutched onto the only daughter’s shoulder, possessively. Something about the photograph made her uncomfortable.

  Although she had heard of Bennett she had resisted the temptation to google stalk him, waking up covered in sweat she decided now would be as good a time as any. Tomorrow was a new day, a new start. She found that his elder brother Wesley was a prominent lawyer, he was already a partner and didn't look older than thirty.

  His firm was based in the central London and Poppy wondered if she'd be meeting him, she didn't find much on the other siblings but the parents owned a large estate in England. The house was massive and looked like the one in Downton Abby I bet they even have servants Poppy thought resentfully.

  She texted Maggie not only an update of how badly it was going but also asking if she'd heard of Wesley, it was still too early for her friend to be awake but hopefully in the morning she would get the scoop. Poppy pulled on some clothes and went out for a walk; the sun was starting to rise and the view from the apartment would be amazing but she needed a break. I can't believe I need a break already, this is pathetic.

  He heard her leave, he hadn't slept well all night but then he never did. He went into the kitchen to see if she had bought any orange juice when he saw her phone buzzing on the counter. It was 6.30am and someone was messaging her. Checking that she was still gone he walked over and read the message, some guy called Jason was texting her, saying he wanted to meet up. It was probably her boyfriend and that bothered Bennett, she shouldn't be living with another guy if she was dating someone else. He drank his juice and went to take a shower. When he came out he smelt eggs cooking, he walked into the kitchen to see Poppy in a tracksuit back from her walk, the wind had given her cheeks a pink glow and her hair was windblown but still beautiful.

  'So, Poppy, you have a boyfriend?' he asked not bothering to say good morning.

  She looked at him weirdly as she kept stirring her eggs, 'I thought my sad little life was of no interest to you' she said repeating his words back to him, when he just looked at her she sighed and answered his question, 'no I don't, I have an annoying ex who stole all my money, ran off with some other girl, got my evicted from my apartment and had wrecked my credit score. I have a problem not a boyfriend' she answered, pouring the food onto her plate.

  She noted that he wasn't eating anything and took a second plate splitting the eggs, 'why didn't you call the police?' he asked her surprised.

  'Because there wasn't any evidence and to be honest, I want him out of my life. He will break up with his latest girl and come crawling back like he always does and if I don't get over him within that time I might take him back because I'm an idiot.' She answered.

  I wonder why he's asking me this, I hope he doesn't think anything's going to happen between me and him. She thought.

  'Ah well love, perhaps you're stronger than you think,' he smiled knowingly.

  Jason had indeed sent her a text asking for her to meet, Bennett had taken the opportunity to record his number and after breakfast had given him a call, asking him to come by the penthouse on Poppy 's behalf. It was time to get rid of this girl once and for all, especially after scrolling through some more of her messages, her life was boring until he saw the most recent message asking about Wesley to some girl called Maggie. He really didn't want that situation coming to light. It wouldn't be for another hour until Jason stopped by so Bennett kept himself busy until he heard the knock at the door, Poppy dutifully answered, ' Jason!' she gasped as Bennett smiled to himself.