Pieces of Truth

by Angela Richardson

  Clint put his arm around my shoulders as he began to give me his thoughts. “I think the man is trying to take her, with all the love he has, and this is the moment she is finally letting herself go to him, giving herself to him, body, mind and soul.”

  Yes, I felt that too. Again Clint and I were in sync and my heart swooned for him like it did the first time I told him I loved him.

  “You are right. That is the moment.” I continued to stare, not taking my eyes off the woman’s face in Klimt’s Kiss, feeling the moment where she gives herself completely to the man.

  It was then the darkness in me chose to suddenly pop its head up to give me its opinion too. “Yes, the man is lost in the kiss, but the woman is turning her head away, like she can’t get away from him. Like she cannot escape.” I suddenly frowned with that possibility in my head. I knew my real feelings burning inside were making themselves known, and this artwork was helping me to realize that. There was something about Klimt’s Kiss that felt like it was about the inability to escape and not about love. There are always many sides to looking at art, and now I was seeing two very conflicting possibilities.

  Time to do something else.

  “I smelt garlic and flowers when we first arrived. What was that?” I lifted my nose into the air to try and gather the smell again, taking in a deep, inhaling breath.

  “Oh I wasn’t lying when I said we were going out to eat. I’ve also got a candlelit dinner that I had set up earlier for us in the next room.”

  I spun around to look at the room we came in from. “Really? You hired caterers?”

  “Yes, but they’ve gone now. We are all alone.”

  I tilted my head back towards the artwork. “Except for Klimt’s Kiss of course.”

  “Of course. They are welcome company. Shall we?” Clint grabbed my hand and started to lead me back the way we came. I looked at the Kiss once more and thought to myself, “She has no reason to want to escape; does she?”

  I pushed my mixed interpretations aside as we walked back into a nearby room. There was a small table with wine glasses, a wine bucket and a bottle of wine was on ice on a small wooden table covered with a white linen table cloth. There were plates that were covered with silver covers. When Clint removed them, I saw we had garlic shrimp served with beautiful fragrant wild rice and a caramelized root vegetable salad.

  “Wow,” I said, as Clint held out my chair.

  “Am I forgiven now?” Clint asked, taking the seat across from me, taking the wine bottle and pouring us each a glass of wine.

  “Yes you are forgiven, and just in time for the Garden Gala too. Tess is flying in the same day as the Gala next week. She might even come to the Gala if her flight arrives early enough. You don’t mind if she stays with us while she is in New York, do you?”

  Clint moved his hands across the table and reached for mine, pulling them both to his mouth and kissing my fingers as he cupped them in his hands.

  “Of course she is welcome to stay with us.”

  I looked at Clint. I had to hand it to the guy, when it came to romantic gestures to prove his love and to say sorry, he really stepped up, but something inside me still had trouble deciding if Clint was using this as damage control, to avoid my suspicions that there was more going on than what I could see. I knew it had to do with that name. The name Samuel had told me, and the name Clint pretended not to know.

  What was that name again? Oh yeah, that’s right - Devon Lockley.

  Chapter 10

  Devon Lockley

  ~ ~ ~

  Maybe the years had made me soft, but something about this felt wrong. I should have retired this year, moved across state, and found a nice cabin in which to spend my remaining time on this earth, fishing and hunting. I needed to find a place where I couldn’t see their faces anymore. The images that haunted me. It was my fate that one day my demons would come back to get me. I already knew where I would go once I met my end.

  This would be my last job before my disappearing act, a common career end to many Lappell members. Faking our death and going into hiding. I should have just said no this time, but given what he knew and what he could do with it, I couldn’t. How he got that information, I’ll never know, but he somehow obtained it and I had to be careful. I had to maintain a steady course. I had to remember this wasn’t just about me or money, it was about safety for those I care about, and my allegiance to the Lappell.

  Staring across the street, I watched Samuel Voltaggio. The Italian boy was the son of a very powerful man. He was known as an enforcer in their circle, but from what I had seen, he just kept to the business side of things within their organization. I had been keeping tabs on him with the rest of the Voltaggio group. Was he as dangerous as I was told? Not that I could see, but then again, I knew looks could be deceiving. He could be a cold-blooded killer and I would be none the wiser. I was the perfect example after all.

  Over the past two months, I observed him frequent florists, ticket shops and jewelers. The type of places you go when you shower affection on your loved one, not when you had to enforce rules and punishment with his father’s particular type of business.

  If he was capable of the horror I had been informed of, I hadn’t seen any such actions as yet. He just continued to frequent these shops and go to all these meetings with his group. What I did note was that something important was definitely going down where his family was concerned, something big, but it mustn’t have been bad, because the guy did not stop smiling.

  I tipped my head and pressed it wearily up against the glass window of my Volvo, staring out. I was getting very tired of all this observation. Usually my directions were straight forward. Name, place, when, how. Quick and easy or slow and painful. It was how it always went. Now it was, wait for the call, follow the instructions, do what you are told and no one gets hurt. This was not a position I was used to, and being in it made me gravely uncomfortable. I didn’t like such variables because they always led to uncertain outcomes. Was it me, or was the youth of today more calculating than ever? They seemed more unpredictable than their predecessors. I knew I had to maintain my cool and just do what I had been told. Yes, this was something I had always done for the Lappell, and yes, I’d been paid a huge sum of money, but this wasn’t my usual deal. Something was off about this whole thing. How Kyser allowed this, I’ll never know, but then again, these sorts of games always did amuse him. I guess the higher up on the food chain you go, the admiration isn’t just for the hungry, but for the ones that go the extra mile to take a bite.

  I felt the buzz in my slacks and rolled my eyes. I knew my actions at the club would result in this call. I snapped open my cell, and brought it to my ear.

  “I gather this is about the club the other night?”

  I gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to keep my voice composed. I had quite the temper when I let it out, but this was not the situation to let my worst qualities fester at the surface.

  “I had to. She saw my face. I had to drug her. I couldn’t risk it knowing the Voltaggio guy was there. Things could have gotten ugly, and she couldn’t be witness to anything. I know who her father is.”

  I thought about the girl in the middle of this and what could happen if anything went wrong, and what her father would do. She needed to get away, and fast. I didn’t want to be associated with any of this if it all went south. I could lose everything and everyone.

  “No, he didn’t see me.”

  “Yes, I’m positive.”

  “My associate was the one who got her to take the drink.”

  “Perhaps it was the information about her favorite book that sealed the deal.”

  “Yes I will keep tracking him. So when do you want me to...”

  “Fine, but I wasn’t hired to watch you know.”

  I snapped my cell closed. I relaxed back into the car seat and returned my gaze back to the Italian guy once again. He was laughing in the group as they mingled in front of a small cafe. My cell buzzed in my pocket
once more. I almost didn’t pick it up, but quickly hit answer when I saw the name on the screen.

  “Hey there, how are things?”

  “You are? That’s great.”

  “You know I can’t say why.”

  “Yeah me too.”

  “Don’t worry I will, and take care, OK. Remember what I told you to do. I will call you again soon.”

  Well that was certainly the reminder I needed right now. I couldn’t forget what was at stake here. I just need to get into the mindset that this was my last job. Then I will be gone, and I’ll make sure my new destination remains a secret. There was no way I was going to be put into this kind of position again. I would go past Kyser if I had to. I had been around longer than him anyway. There were people much higher on the ladder and with more power. I didn’t need his help to disappear. I did feel more comforted with the hope this would be over soon. I just had to do my best to try and relax while watching the Voltaggio kid.

  I stared out of the car again, and saw that Samuel and some of his group had gone into another store called Ronoldo’s Menswear.

  Oh great! Now I get to see him try on suits. What fun!

  Chapter 11

  Garden Gala

  ~ ~ ~

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror, adjusting my dress. I was wearing a long black Alexander McQueen Grecian gown with bandage straps against the bodice. I was ready for my night out with Clint and Josh at the Lappell’s annual Garden Gala charity event.

  As I studied myself, I started to wonder. I looked like Lenorah Rossi, but who was that really? She was supposed to be a determined and passionate artist who was loyal, strong and committed, and in love with Clint Weston, but everything I know I am, everything I thought I was, is being tested. There were secrets I knew were being kept from me. I had discovered a name with unlimited possibilities, but I had found nothing, not one piece of information, that would give me any insight into what the name could mean. I had spent the last few days researching the name ‘Devon Lockley’ and had come up with nothing. No public listings, pictures or articles. Nothing. It was as if the name didn’t exist in the real world, although, I knew it might be different in the world of the Lappell. Cracking that vault of secrets would be near impossible unless someone volunteered the information for me. Clint made it very clear that the secret to that name would not be accessible through him. I had other options though. I was about to attend a Lappell function tonight, so perhaps if I name dropped, I could possibly get lucky with a reaction or some kind of acknowledgement.

  I heard Clint enter the bedroom as I stood in the bathroom. He was in my line of sight but was focused on adjusting his suit. I stared at him as he fixed his tie in the other room. He can’t possibly be hiding anything from me, can he? He feels so sincere in his devotion, so binding with his love. It was hard for me to believe that he would do anything to hurt me again. But he had hurt me once before, I reminded myself. That awful lie almost broke me into a million pieces back in Morewell. We didn’t have the strongest start to our relationship, but Clint had made a part of me come to life. It was a new side to me that had embraced love and all its forms. Clint wasn’t perfect and neither was I, but we felt perfect for each other and that was what I was using to guide me in my decisions. However, with my recent brushes with cheating on Clint and our fights, feeling perfect for each other was fast becoming a past memory. I wasn’t sure what was real any more.

  Clint finished adjusting his tie and then turned and smiled at me, but not just a sweet smile, the kind of smile that was warm and looked at me as if he saw his whole future. No, I’m being stupid. I’m chasing a lie that doesn’t exist. I’m wasting time with this ridiculous idea that Clint is doing something behind my back. It was about time I stopped these childish insecurities and weird feelings I had for Josh, and moved forward, and I wanted to do that with Clint.

  I walked over to where Clint was standing and took his hand. “So explain to me again how this charity event works?” I asked as I began to trace little circles in Clint’s palm.

  He closed his eyes as he enjoyed my touch but then opened them to answer. “Well, it’s a silent auction and the money we raise goes to the Errol Environmental Society. We bid on our favorite flower and then whoever has the highest bid, gets to enjoy the flower for the night.”

  Flowers? I was confused. “So will they hand out bunches of flowers at this gala?”

  “Oh no, not really. The ladies wear the flowers,” Clint explained.

  I raised my eyebrows. “I’m sorry?”

  Clint patted my hand and said, “Wait just a moment.” He took off to the kitchen and returned with a clear plastic box. I watched as he opened the box and pulled out a beautiful white orchid corsage and placed it on my wrist.

  “We bid on the ladies assigned to each flower. I’ve assigned you as the white orchid. Don’t worry Norah. I’ll make sure I will have the highest bid for the white orchid this evening. I hope you don’t mind that I chose your flower for you.”

  The wrist corsage was gorgeous. The actual bracelet part was made out of lines and lines of white pearls which connected to a pretty white orchid. “How will you make sure no one else bids on me?” I queried, still admiring the beauty of the corsage.

  “I will be watching the orchid bidding box very closely,” Clint stated, making it clear that no-one else stood a chance. “Also,” Clint began, “it’s tradition to kiss the winner once the highest bid is announced and I’ll be making sure no one’s lips will touch yours except mine.”

  “You better hope so,” I said being playful.

  Clint bent down. “Do you really think I’d let anyone have you for the night? In this dress?” Clint’s hand began to travel up my leg to where the dress split at the thigh. I pushed it away, laughing as I did.

  “Hey Mr. Weston, you have to win me first. Then I will be yours to do with as you please.” I winked at Clint. He grinned at the many possibilities.

  “You drive a hard bargain Miss Rossi.” Clint pulled me up and against his body so I could feel how hard he really was.

  When we arrived at the Waldorf function room, the first thing I noticed were how many ladies were wearing wrist corsages of all different kinds of flowers. The next thing I noticed was an extremely long table with small boxes lined up on it, each with a flower crafted on top, and each with pen and paper attached to every box.

  The function room was magnificent, with rows of tables filled with vases of different kinds of flowers, and next to the vases were information note cards about the Errol Environmental Society and how the organization contributes to various charities to help stop pollution and carbon emissions. I had to admit, the Lappell certainly knew how to maintain appearances by throwing one hell of a fancy shin-dig.

  I saw Josh standing by the bar near some older gentlemen and made my way over to him, leaving Clint talking to some people he worked with at his firm.

  Josh’s eyes brightened when he saw me walk up to him. He was wearing a very nice suit, with a silver tie, his hair tousled but combed back, a slight shade of stubble on his face. He looked hot! I pulled him towards me and gave him a quick peck on the cheek to say hello. “Hey there handsome.”

  I jerked myself away after I realized what I had said. Josh noticed my swift retreat.

  “Norah. You look unbelievable as usual,” Josh complimented as his eyes swept over my dress and then stopped at my wrist. He moved closer to me. “The white orchid, how very fitting.” He picked up my wrist to examine the corsage. I watched Josh as he looked at the details of the corsage, holding my hand in his. “Did you know the white orchid is a symbol of purity, innocence and sweetness?” He squeezed my hand tighter.

  If that is what they mean, then it was probably the wrong choice of flower for me because I was far from sweet and innocent, but the way Josh was looking at me right now, being the white orchid felt completely right.

  I swallowed and tried not to think about the look Josh was giving me, and instead tried to chan
ge the subject. “I’m not sure how I feel being bid on, but I guess it is for charity.”

  Josh’s nostrils flared slightly. “Well I’m sure Weston will make sure you are his.”

  As he said it, there was clearly a hint of something else. Anger maybe? Or, concern?

  Josh’s eyes went down the length of my dress and back to mine and then it happened again. The feelings that had overshadowed the friendship. That crossed the line and tasted the possibility of more. The way he looked me up and down made a part of me burn with desire. Fire and electricity. Flames and sparks. Needing and wanting. Tempting temptation.

  I don’t think we realized we had been standing there, staring at each other, until the laughter from some nearby guests broke our trance. I quickly excused myself from Josh, whose eyes I felt bore into my back as I made my way back to Clint. He was still making small talk with some business associates that I had no interest in listening to, so I told Clint that I was going to have a look at the bidding boxes.

  I scanned the tables with the boxes where the bids for the flowers were being made. The wooden boxes had ceramic flowers that were attached to the top of them, next to a small opening where the slips of paper were put in. I saw a dahlia, peony, violet, lily, tulip and many more. I saw the orchid box and wondered how much Clint’s bid was.

  “Admiring the craftsmanship?” asked the deep voice from behind me. I turned around to come face to face with a very handsome forty-something man in a gun-smoke gray suit and black tie. Strong jaw, intense brown eyes and dark brown hair combed back. He looked straight into my eyes, in a very direct and confident manner, without fear of anything, or anyone.

  “Uh yes. The boxes are beautifully made,” I noted, as my attention then returned to the table.

  The gentleman brushed past me as he reached for a pen and paper, and wrote something down, placing it then into the snapdragon’s box. He stood up and looked at the table and then to my corsage, smiling as he did. “Beautiful boxes for beautiful ladies.”