by JA Low
“Is that an original Louis Marchant?” I ask in awe. He grins, showing me his perfect white teeth and the cutest little dimple on one cheek.
“Yes it is.” He gives me a curious look.
“It’s magnificent. He’s such a talent. I went to his exhibition years ago when it was in London. I think I had just started at university and he was just becoming known. I stood there for hours losing myself in the colour, the passion that filled each of his pieces.”
“Have you seen any of his latest work?”
“The darker ones?” He nods. “Yes, online.”
“And what did you think?” Daniel stares at me, and I get lost in his blue eyes for a moment.
“I like them.” This gets his attention.
“Really? Why?”
“Because life isn’t always rainbows. Sometimes it’s raw, angry and messed up.” He is silent for a couple of moments. Maybe I overstepped with my comment. Good one, Emily.
“And you speak French?” He switches to French and I converse easily with him as we move into the living room. I grew up speaking French, my mother was an artist. I guess I follow in her footsteps. She was very bohemian, eccentric, beautiful. She made sure we spoke it at home. But when she left, I was the only one that continued speaking it in private. It felt like I was still connected to her in some way if I did. I understand why my brother and sister stopped speaking French, they were older and understood more about why our parents had split up, but for me, it was a confusing time.
Eventually, as I got older I was told how she had left my father for another man. An artist she was working with here in London. They fell in love and she moved to France to be with him and that was the last time we ever heard from her. My father of course was devastated, and declared everything to do with my mother banned from our home. My father passed away the last year of high school, as devastated as I was losing him, there was a sense of relief that I could pursue my private love of art without hurting him. Of course my siblings were not happy about my choice, but they had their own goals to worry about, they didn’t have time to worry about me too.
“You’re French is perfect,” Daniel comments. My cheeks flare with colour at his compliment. “You’re hired,” he tells me. I stare at him in shock, because I have been here for no more than five minutes. He hasn’t even asked me any questions.
“Are you sure?” Why are you putting doubt in his mind, Emily? This makes him chuckle.
“I have a good feeling about you, Miss Chapman.” His baby blues stare at me. I internally sigh. “I think you will keep my client in check.” Um, okay. “They are having a rough time at the moment,” he says softly.
“I understand.” More than he knows.
“Will you be able to start soon?”
“Yes. I have to move out of my current place so I should be ready in a couple of days.” Daniel nods. I still have some things that I haven’t had time to grab from Toby’s yet. I’ve been putting it off not wanting to run into him.
“My client is difficult at the moment; I need to warn you of that. Surly to say the least.” Think of your resume, Emily. You can’t be picky.
“Artists can be temperamental.” I give him a confident smile. He doesn’t realise I grew up with a temperamental artist too. Some days my mother was happy and others she would sink into a deep depression and no matter what I did I could never pull her out of it. I guess accidentally becoming pregnant to a man you never loved, then marrying him and producing more children than you ever wanted, trapping yourself more in a life you hated with a man who didn’t understand art nor ever wanted to, could make you depressed.
“This one is at the moment.” Those baby blues look at me with concern. “Just know that you can leave at any moment if you can’t handle it anymore. You will still be paid your salary for the summer in exchange for not talking about your time with the artist.” Not really a great selling point but I can’t be fussy. I wonder who this temperamental artist is.
“May I ask who it is?”
“If I told you, you might not take the job and honestly, I need the help.” He’s giving me semi-puppy dog eyes. Damn this beautiful man. “But I promise you, you can talk to me any time of the day or night.” Now that is kind of a selling point. “I understand them and their quirks.” I guess that is kind of reassuring but there is a portion of me that is a little hesitant about my new boss. But that con is totally outweighed by all the pros.
I am on a high. I have a job. A real job. For some mysterious, famous artist in the South of France. They are going to pay me an extremely generous wage, all my living and board is taken care of so that means I can save my wage and by the time I get back to London after the summer, I will have a healthy savings account and enough money to get my own place. My happy mood is short lived as I make my way to Toby’s apartment to collect the last of my things. I turn my key in the front door, like I have done a million times before, but this time it makes me feel sick. The door creaks open and the familiar smells tickle my nose, old smells that used to remind me of home but now turn my stomach.
“Hey.” Toby surprises me. It’s early, he would normally be at the office but instead he’s here standing in front of me. I haven’t run into him since we’ve broken up. Of course he looks the same, same blond hair, dressed in a navy polo and jeans. But now when I look at him, there’s nothing. No butterflies, no flutters, nothing. All I feel is numbness and anger and a big dose of regret for wasting so much time with a man that thinks so little of me.
“I’m not staying long, just packing up the rest of my things.”
“Oh, okay.” Toby seems shocked. Did he seriously think I was here for him? I make my way to our bedroom and pull the empty suitcases from the shelves and start filling them. Toby follows after me watching me pack in silence.
“Em, we need to talk.” I shake my head, continuing to pack.
“We have nothing to talk about.” His hands stop my furious packing.
“Please.”
I pull myself away from him, I don’t like the feeling of him touching me anymore.
“We don’t have anything to talk about, Toby. You have been cheating on me for six months with some girl in New York.”
“I’m sorry about that, Em. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know. It’s hard when your dick accidentally falls into a stranger’s vagina.” He looks stunned at my remark. I have never called him out on his bullshit, too worried that I would lose him if I did. Guess what? I did end up losing him in the end, so maybe I should have called him out earlier and maybe now I wouldn’t be where I am.
“I still love you, Emmy.” I think I am going to be sick.
“Stop.” I hold up my hand. “Stop lying, Toby.” He frowns. “It doesn’t matter, you’re moving to New York and I’m moving to the South of France.”
“You’re what?” His voice rises.
“Yeah. That’s right. I’m working for an internationally acclaimed artist.” I rub it in.
“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you.” No. He doesn’t get to be proud of me for doing this.
“I should really thank you for breaking my heart otherwise I probably wouldn’t have taken a chance like I did.” That’s the truth. Maybe fate has other plans and I needed to lose everything to put me back onto the right path again.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Em.” I roll my eyes.
“But you did. And the worst thing is, Toby, you have changed the fabric of me.” He looks at me confused. “You left a scar on my heart because you lied and deceived me. You changed me and not in a good way. I pity the next guy that comes into my life, because he’s going to have a really hard shell to get through now.” Toby’s face falls, reality of his actions hitting him. I can only hope.
“Em, I’m sorry.” Damn those stupid tear ducts losing control again. Why is there not an off switch.
“I was good to you, Toby. I was the perfect girlfriend. I let you have your freedom, I never nagged you, I never checked up o
n you. I trusted you.” Now the tears fall. “I trusted you and you fucked up that trust.” Toby looks really apologetic as my words hit him.
“I wish I had done things differently but I didn’t.” Me too. I wish he broke up with me six months ago, instead of lying to me all this time.
“How am I going to trust another man now?” He looks ashamed. “You have ruined my next relationship before it’s even started because you were a selfish asshole.” I grab more of my clothes and throw them into the suitcase angrily.
“You’re right.” I was not expecting that. “I am an asshole. You were the perfect girlfriend. You did trust me. You let me be me, you never asked more of me, you loved me just the way I am. And I let…” He tries to hold back his emotions. “I let other people convince me I deserved better, that I deserved someone of equal stature.” Wow, okay, that hurts. He thinks I’m beneath him. “I know I am going to regret letting you go, Emily, but I have to.”
“Why, because you’re in love with someone else?” He can’t look at me. “Oh shit, you are.” My stomach sinks. I keep packing.
“I wouldn’t have cheated if I didn’t think there might be a future with this woman.” Make him stop. Please, make him stop.
“So, what you're saying is you never saw a future with me?” I know I don’t want to hear the answer to this.
“No.”
“Because I don’t come from the right circles.”
“No. Because you lost your ambition. You settled into a routine. You were happy to watch me succeed but you never made an effort to make yourself succeed.” Seriously, I am ready to throat punch him. “You could have been something, Emily.”
“Toby, I was something. I am something. I was the woman that loved you with every fibre of her body. But that wasn’t enough was it?”
“How could I take you to work dinners and tell them my girlfriend works in the gift shop of a tacky tourist sight?”
“You love someone for who they are not what they do.”
“You were always so bloody romantic, Emily. That is not how the real world works.”
“Lucky that I don’t want to live in your fucked up world then.” I push the last bits of my clothes into the bag and I leave. Putting that chapter of my life behind me.
4
Emily
Daniel met me at Marseilles airport and drove me through the city, then out into the country side. I have always wanted to come to the South of France, it was where my mother had disappeared to and the last known address I have of hers. I can see now why she gave up dreary England for this place; it’s beautiful. There are fields of lavender and sunflowers that paint the landscape, crumbling stone buildings with colourful wooden shutters stand in the quaint little villages. We head out into some more open fields and turn into a drive way, the long winding lane takes us all the way to the end, where the most magnificent stone building stands before me. Daniel pulls up and stops at the main entrance, he opens the car door for me and takes my luggage from the boot of the car.
“This is…” Words cannot describe the beauty of this place.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I nod, taking it all in. He opens the creaking sky blue, wooden door, I follow him through the home, castle, whatever you would call it. “There is a pool out the back that you can enjoy on your time off. The chef and housekeeper will start work tomorrow.” Okay. This person must be pretty well off if they can afford a full time chef and housekeeper. Who on earth is this mystery artist? “You have the house to yourself tonight, thought you’d want to settle in before the madness starts tomorrow.” That dimple pops as he flashes those baby blues at me. “There is a little village not far from here if you would like something to eat. You can take one of the bikes or I can send the driver back to take you.”
“I can ride into town, it doesn’t seem that far.” New me needs to start exercising, especially if I am going to be eating my body weight in cheese and wine living here. “And Daniel, thank you so much for this opportunity.” This makes him smile.
“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t met your new boss.” He gives me a wink, ushering me into the luxurious home. He keeps warning me. I really hope my new boss is not a dick, because that is going to make the summer suck.
“Here is your room.” Daniel opens the wooden door to my bedroom.
“Oh my…” I rush instantly to the balcony doors and open them, there in front of me is the gleaming azure pool, and just behind that the rolling green hills. Purple streaks of lavender fill the horizon. I can hear birds chirping, the buzzing of the bees hovering around the pink roses that are climbing up the rock wall of the home, the sweet perfume teases my nose. This is paradise. Daniel stands behind me.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His warm breath touches my shoulders sending goosebumps over my skin.
“It truly is.” I try to remain calm, but honestly I wouldn’t mind if Daniel spun me around and pinned me to one of the stone walls, showing me what real paradise is. Oh my God, I need to stop it. It’s been two weeks since I broke up with Toby. It’s still too early in the mourning cycle to think about sleeping with someone else. That didn’t stop Toby. The little devil on my shoulder whispers to me.
“In the study downstairs I’ll set up a laptop and a mobile phone for you.” His professionalism pulls me from my dirty thoughts. He’s just doing his job. He’s not here to fuck you against the brick wall. Concentrate Emily. “I will be emailing you their schedule. You need to make sure they keep to it, we don’t have long until this exhibition in New York and there is a lot riding on it.” I can’t believe I will be going to New York. Suck it, Toby, I didn’t need you to get there after all. I can do schedules, who doesn’t like a good schedule. “You will also need to look after their social media. The last person who looked after it kind of left abruptly and it hasn’t been maintained very well in the last four months. We really need to get this artist back out there again. They have no clue about social media, so I will be looking at you to take the lead on this.” I nod. I take awesome selfies. I love my filters and my hashtags. I’m all over that. “Also, they have kind of disappeared from the social scene too, I really need them to be visible again. Start building the buzz for the New York exhibition, remind everyone who they are and that they are still number one.” This mystery talk is driving me crazy, I have no idea if the artist is male or female. “So, say yes to any and all invites and if you are really unsure just give me a call.” I nod in agreement. So far the job sounds pretty good. “Any questions? I know I have kind of just laid it all on you at once.” He smiles at me.
“Just one. Who is it?”
“Follow me, the artwork downstairs will give it away.” Oh, now I’m intrigued. “You’re dying to know, aren't you?” The deep chuckle that leaves his throat gives me chills. We make our way back downstairs, past the foyer, we then walk into the living and dining areas and I stop, looking at the walls.
“No.” I cover my mouth. He can’t be serious. I am not Louis Marchant’s new assistant.
“You see why I didn’t want to tell you.” I walk up to one of the paintings and just stare at the bold colours beaming back at me. Is that? My hand wants to touch the mark going across the entire painting. “Yes, he sliced the canvas. I got it fixed for him.” I heard the story about what had happened, his wife running away with his protégé.
“Is he okay?” Daniel shakes his head.
“Honestly, no. Come, let me show you.” Following him past the kitchen and down a corridor and then out a glass door, there is what looks to be a storage shed. Daniel unlocks the door and flicks on the light. It is filled with paintings but these ones are all black, white, grey and red. The strokes look angry and violent. “This is where we are now.” He points to the paintings. “He’s lost and I don’t know how to help him anymore.” I can see the strain on his face as he talks about his client.
“They are still beautiful though.” I run my fingers over the thick dried paint.
“But Marchant’s
fans don’t want brooding, they want love and light.”
“Sometimes life doesn’t happen that way. These paintings, these show you what happens when someone rips your heart out. These show a person’s pain and sometimes pain can be beautiful.”
“Sounds like you are speaking from experience.”
“Yeah, I am.” His eyes narrow at me.
“Is that the reason for you having to move out of your home?” I nod at his question.
“I thought my partner was proposing to me, but instead he was breaking up with me, to move to New York because he fell in love with someone else.” Daniel’s eyes widen. I didn’t mean to kind of unleash my dirty laundry onto him. “I guess at this moment Marchant’s painting resonate with me.” I scan the walls of the dark images.
“That man will regret leaving you.”
“I think it’s for the best, he wasn’t the boy for me.”
“I think you’re exactly what Louis needs,” Daniel tells me.
Daniel left hours ago. It’s a beautiful early summer’s night, the sun is slowly setting, the breeze is warm, so I rode the bike into town. Great idea but in theory I realise I haven’t ridden a bike for years and it was a bloody long way. Thankfully the road was flat, that was my only saving grace. Finally, my heartbeat has returned to a normal pattern as I set myself up by the glistening pool. My dinner consists of crusty baguettes, cheese and some cold meat, and of course a nice bottle of wine. It’s quiet out here. Not a soul out amongst the fields that surround the property. I like the serenity. I could get used to this pace of life.
I cut off another chunk of camembert and lather it onto the crusty slice of bread. Taking a bite of the deliciousness it nearly sends me into an orgasm. I unlock my phone and take a photo of my spread and upload it to Instagram. Got to make everyone think I am having the time of my life and not moping about with a broken heart. I share the photo of my beautiful meal with the backdrop of the setting sun over the lavender fields. #livingmybestlife #blessed #thisisthelife #summerjob #donthateme #singlelife.