Artful Attractions

by Logsdon, S. K.

  Your friend; Brad

  P.S; There is another surprise in the master bath under the sink.

  Awe how adorable is he? I was just hoping to find beer and here I’m staring at three perfect meals and a six pack of Corona, next to it sitting a plastic bag with lemon wedges. Be still my heart. I think this just bumped my love level another notch if that was possible. Damn this heart of mine. If only I could punch her a few times to make the swelling subside.

  I shut the door and skip childishly in my bare feet into the master bath which is amazing like the rest of the apartment. I love the giant tub. I pull open the doors under the vanity.

  Oh shit! I can’t believe him. My heart leaps into my throat. Why, oh why, does he do this?

  I’m staring at a hot pink caddy filled with female provisions. I take it out and lay it on top of the counter. Bed head shampoo and conditioner, hairspray, mouth wash, Olay luscious embrace body wash, a pink electric toothbrush, travel size toothpaste, floss; the mint kind, deodorant, a Venus razor, an entire Clinique skin care set and my Chanel perfume. He has everything I use at home in this damn caddy and there’s another note tucked inside.

  Alexis,

  I thought since you will be working here a lot might as well have some of home surrounding you. This way you can stay over if it gets too late and not have to worry about needing anything to shower or be fresh for the day. There are two pairs of yoga pants in the closet in your size and just grab one of my t-shirts if you need.

  Brad

  P.S; There is one final surprise in the smallest bedrooms closet. Don’t read into it. It’s just a gift.

  He has to stop this sweetness. I think I’m going to explode. But this scavenger hunt thing is exciting. I’ve never done anything like it before.

  I place the caddy back under the sink, drop into Brad’s closet and it’s full of his clothes but I don’t see yoga pants anywhere. I open up each dresser drawer and nothing. Plus the boxers I purchased for him are nowhere to be found. Maybe he threw them away.

  My heart sinks. Oh, well what was I to expect. He’s a boxer briefs guy.

  These damn pants aren’t in here. Guess it’s time to check out the other closet. I exit Brad’s and open the other. Inside are my two yoga pants folded on top of the eight drawer dresser that fits perfectly against the wall. These closets are large enough to fit a kid’s bedroom with a twin bed, nightstand and plenty of room left to play. I’m jealous. I wish my closet was this nice. Mine’s long and has a portion that is deeper but it’s not a full on walk in room like this one.

  I leave the bedroom and find the one bedroom in the place without windows. The other two are facing the city so they have big windows just like the living room. But the last one is tucked onto an inside wall leaving it windowless. I go inside and open the closet.

  Holy cow! He did not!

  There’s an entire art set up resting against the wall with fifteen or so canvases all different sizes and shapes and an easel. I kneel down and open a cardboard box. Damn! There’s an entire box full of black charcoal sticks. Next to it sits two large pencil sets and an apron. Wow. This is too much. On the top of the pencils is a white envelope. I open it slowly. Whenever I get these there’s money inside and it falls out in big bills.

  But thankfully there’s only a note.

  Alexis,

  Last gift, I promise. Since I’ve already purchased the space for the new restaurant I need art. So here is an entire set up of everything the man at the art store said you’d need. I hope it’s enough, if not let me know and I’ll order more. This room is my office and either free room is your studio. You pick. And if you get the time I’d love another drawing like we talked about for the master. I know I’m putting a lot on you but I promise it will be worth it in the end. I appreciate all your help.

  Love; Brad

  I shut the door leaving my art supplies resting in closet. I can’t believe he did all this. I realize it’s to benefit him so I can keep busy longer, by fixing the meals and the bath supplies. But damn, it’s still really sweet go to all the trouble. When he bought it all of this is beside me. He was with me all weekend and didn’t say a thing about going down to Florida until Wednesday. When did he have the time? Maybe he has a personal assistant? Naw, I don’t think so. This is strange. Timing doesn’t seem to add up unless he was running around like a chicken with his head cut off Wednesday night. Guess I’ll never know. Oh well, it’s still sweet.

  I track back into the kitchen unloading boxes after boxes of kitchen items.

  A knock at the door. Padding my feet across the floor I open the door.

  “Hello madam, I have the packages,” a building employee says. A man I’ve never met before. He’s got a giant flatbed cart towing behind him and I guess I didn’t realize that much stuff was going to be delivered because there’s minimally twenty five boxes here.

  “Please roll that in.” I back away to allow him to enter.

  “Yes, Ma’am.” He pulls it through the doorway and it just fits by an inch at most.

  “Can we keep it in here and I’ll drop it back in the hall afterward? I don’t want to unload all of it right now.” I gesture to the overly packed cart. I’ve already started unloading the other boxes the Macy’s delivery boys dropped by. I’ve got hours upon hours of work here. What have I gotten myself into?

  “Madam you’re welcome to leave the empty containers or trash on the cart as well and I will discard it. Just contact the front desk when you’ve completed and we will be glad to get it out of your way. Oh, and sir Bradly asked me to make sure you got this.” He hands me pink gift bag with yellow tissue paper spraying out of the top. I take it from him and lay it on the couch.

  “That would be very nice. I appreciate it. It probably won’t be until tomorrow,” I state walking the courteous gentleman to the door, biding him adieu.

  Standing back and admiring the space we are off to a good start. The TV has arrived its sitting on the cart. The white fireplace is sitting perfectly against the white wall. The sectional and ottoman coffee table is nestled in just how I pictured them. The red pillows came with the delivery men, so they are splayed at even intervals along the couch. There’s six of them total and they add just the right amount of pop to the space. The wall of windows overlooking the city opens this space up making it appear twice its normal size and the couch counter balances it giving it a homey feeling of warmth and comfort.

  I drop onto the couch and pluck the tissue from the small gift bag, crumpling it between my fingers and tossing it onto the couch beside me. Tipping the bag upside down, a pink iPod with matching ear buds lands in my lap along with another note. So much for the easel art supplies being the last presents. Brad’s a sneaky bastard.

  Alexis,

  I know you’re probably already tuckering out with furniture day and I thought I’d get your body pumping with some music. This is yours to keep. That’s why it’s pink. You can’t give me back a pink iPod; it’s unethical. Consider it a token of my appreciation for all your hard work. I hope you’ve dipped into your food, don’t forget to eat. I know it’s yummy. All sorts of my favorite music is downloaded on the iPod and I hope you enjoy. In my closet is a dock with speakers so you can jam without the provided ear buds. The choice is yours. Give me a call after you’ve calmed down. I know you’re going to be objecting to the gifts.

  Yours truly, Brad

  Does the man ever select a regular send off? I write love on all my cards. But his are so random it’s confusing. One minute I get butterflies dancing when he writes love and now I get yours truly. What’s that supposed to mean?

  I turn on my new slim gadget and fish through the music. It’s every kind of music I would put on here myself and maybe a few I wouldn’t. But overall he’s spot on. If he only knew I loved the same tunes. That’s never been a topic of our conversations.

  I get up and grab my phone out of the kitchen. I need to call Brian. Looking around this place tells me I have to cut off my client list for
a few days, possibly a week with as much work that needs to be completed. I don’t mind. Maybe that’ll give me enough time to get my head on straight. That’s what I’m praying for.

  I click Brian’s number.

  “Hello beautiful,” he greets with an obvious smile in his voice.

  “Hi, Brian. I’ve called because I need you to slow down my clients for the next week maybe two.” I tread lightly. I’ve never asked for a favor like this. Being a pimp, they want money and even though Brian is nice, I never know when he might snap.

  “Why is everything okay?” he sounds concerned. That’s so much better than angry.

  “Yes, I bit off a larger project than I anticipated helping Amy’s brother set up his apartment in Manhattan and I’m going to be exhausted if I plan on getting this completed within a week or two at most. I can’t work four days a week and this. I think I’ll keel over,” I chuckle and cross my fingers. Please be okay with this. Please be okay with this.

  “Oh, you mean the man that you’ve in love with. You’ve actually gone along and decided to follow through with helping.”

  I frown angrily.

  “Who the fuck told you I was in love with him?” I snap. There’s only one person on the planet who’d give up the goods and that’s Becka. And now she’s in the damn dog house.

  “Your best friend. She told me you are skating on some thin ice with him. She’s worried about you falling too far and drowning in the deep end without a life jacket. If you know what I mean.”

  This isn’t fair! I haven’t given Brad one fucking reason to feel how I do about him. He has no idea about my affections. So why does it matter how far my heart dives into the unknown. It’s bound to drown in the abyss and that’s what I want. If I love him and let my heart be shattered it can’t be mended and I won’t have this to worry about again. It makes complete sense to me. Plus he’s my good friend’s brother and I’m doing my duty to my adopted family by helping him out. Overall I don’t see how this is a losing cause. Other than I will wallow in heartache for some time. That’s better than this happening with somebody else. Getting it out of the way just seems smart. I can’t fix how I feel about him. So I’ve been rolling with the punches. It’s all I can do.

  “Listen Brian. If you don’t want me to take some time off, then fine. Don’t. Just say it. But I don’t need nor want a lecture or concern about my internal love struggle. I know the rules and I’ve not told him or shown him how I feel in any way shape or form. I’m already drowning so allowing myself to fall harder isn’t going to make a damn bit of difference. Pain is pain no matter how you look at it,” I comment with a lingering hint of resentment. I don’t see how any of them fuckers come off. It’s my life. And Becka is on my shit list now.

  He exhales loudly into the phone. “Fine….But… If you need or want me to be a friend I will be. I’m not just your boss Alexis. I’d like to think after four years you’d think of me as more than some guy who books your clients. If you love him your right that’s your business and I understand. It’s hard when it happens. But like I said if you need me. I’m here. And yes you can have some time off. But I’m not going to be surprised if Joseph or John aren’t disappointed or begging to see you. They won’t settle for anyone else.”

  “I’ll deal with Joseph. And John can handle a damn week without being paddled and fucked in the ass. I beat him so bad I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t sit down for a few days. So that’ll tide him over. Thanks Brian, I appreciate the friendship offer. It’s sweet really. But the more I let this go and try to ignore it the better I am. Talking about it just makes me think about it more. The pain is bad enough.”

  “I understand, well call me this week and let me know when you want to come back,” he says sweetly and following a round of small talk we hang up and I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. I can get art done, the apartment and maybe just maybe the dreams will cease to exist and I’ll sleep good without waking up panting and begging to be filled.

  Scrolling through my texts, I pull up Becka’s number

  Me to Becka: I’m so disappointed in you telling Brian about my Brad feelings. That’s not your place. I’m not going to be home the next week. Hope you can keep the apartment cleaned on your own.

  If Becka’s going to run her mouth about Brad with Brian. God only knows what she’s said to Andrew or others about it. I’m not going home to find out. I need the distance anyhow and I’m not a huge fan of taking the subway into Brad’s daily so sleeping here it is. It’ll be like I live in the Upper East Side with all the other richy rich couples. Fat chance I’d ever fit in here.

  Becka- Shit, I’m sorry. He asked how your vacation to the B&B went and I sort of let it slip. Why aren’t you coming home? Is it because of me?

  Me- Sort of you. Yes. I’m not happy about you telling Brian. He’s our boss, Becka, not our friend. And I guess I’ve gotten myself into a bigger mess with Brad’s apartment than I anticipated. So I’ll be staying here while he’s out of town. It’s not a big deal. I’ll drop by once this week to pick up clothes and what not.

  Becka- Okay, but I’m still really sorry. Please don’t stay mad at me.

  I ignore her and leave her to simmer in her guilt. She deserves it for airing my dirty laundry to god knows who. I scroll down and find Brad’s number.

  Me to Brad- Hey, so much for three gifts that were completely unnecessary and now I’ve got an iPod with all my favorite tunes. Thanks.

  In truth I want to scold him for the gift. But he’s right, I am doing a lot for him. Interior decorators would charge a fortune to spruce up a blank canvas like his place. And I’m doing it pro-bono.

  Brad- Phew! I thought I might get in trouble for that one. You like the music really? Or are you being nice?

  Me- I love the music. I’m a huge fan of almost all the bands. We have the same taste in music. And I’m taking your advice and staying in your apartment.

  Brad- Hope you like it. I’m thrilled to see what it looks like when I get home. That’s awesome we like the same tunes. Makes it easier, I suppose.

  Easier than what? I’m confused.

  Me- Yep, the painter is coming Monday. Don’t want to keep you. Just wanted to say thanks and I’m going to get back to work.

  Brad- Okay. You’d never keep me. But if you’ve got to get back to work I understand. Night.

  Hopping off the couch I get back to work and spend the rest of the evening unpacking the boxes on the cart. Listening to music. It’s not hard work it’s just tedious as hell and my fingers are killing me from ripping this paper or that tape. So much for a soft touch before you know it I’ll have callouses and fit in with the men down at the auto repair shop.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  “Good morning sunshine,” someone says, pushing my side. “Good morning.”

  I turn over stretching my arms high hitting my knuckles on the headboard. Peeling my eyes open my heart jumps into my throat and I spill up out of bed pulling the sheet with me. Fuck! My heart is pounding so hard I can’t breathe. I bend over placing both of my hands on my knees panting. Jesus Christ, that was one hell of a wakeup call. I turn my head slightly to peer at the new alarm clock on the side table and it’s eight in the morning.

  Standing up I keep a hold of my sheets.

  “How are you this fine morning?” Brad asks cheery, with a giant ear-to-ear smile sitting on his new bed. Holy shit! What is he doing home? He’s only been gone a week. I’m not done yet. Damn-it, damn-it, damn-it.

  “Wha…what are you doing home?” I stammer, catching my breath.

  “I wanted to see the place and I got in early this morning.”

  He’s way too chipper for spending however long in an airplane this morning. It’s too early. And I worked, worked last night. For the first night since I got to his apartment. After four arguments with Joseph and one with Brian I broke down and made myself available for room service dinner and a four hour fuck fest in a hotel not far from Brad’s. I refused to stay the night
with Joseph, I haven’t had the time. Brad left last Thursday and it’s the following Friday. Eight days I’ve had to complete this project and I’m not done. If I wouldn’t have spent four hours with Joseph last night sucking him off twice off in my own little world of paint colors, rugs and other assorted decorated items and then fucking him another two times. I would have been here doing my damn job. Shame on me! My brain has been so out of it and zoned in on the task at hand that I haven’t had time to do much else. That even means orgasming with Joseph. I faked it like a pro.

  My dreams are the only thing keeping me horny and every morning after a nightly sexcapade with Brad in my dreams, I masturbate like my life depends on it and get on with my day of readying his apartment for when he returns. Which according to him and the last time we spoke which was less than forty-eight damn hours ago he wasn’t going to be back until Monday. Guess those plans were changed. Leaving the rest of the apartment unfinished to my standards. Sure the kitchen has been painted a creamy white and I’ve gotten all the kitchen appliances including stocking his cupboards with essentials like top of the line spices, and everything else including extra virgin olive oil, flour and sugar. I’ve gotten it all covered and stored properly. But I’ve not wiped it all down to make is shine. And I’ve spent two days on and off trying to find this rare and top of the line wok that I’ve heard everyone on the restaurant blogs raving about. Just last night before I left for Joseph’s I was able to order the last one online.

  I walk into the bathroom, leaving him to hang out in his new bedroom. I use the facilities wash my face and comb through my disastrous bed hair. I haven’t showered since last night and I fell a sleep with a wet head. I look like hell.