by Ali Parker
"Chinese food that you made?" She giggled.
"Something like that." I kissed the tip of her nose before moving off the bed. I missed her warmth immediately. "Have a good day, okay?"
"Is it Thursday?" She sat up, pulling the covers up to wrap around her.
I lifted an eyebrow. "You're blocking my view."
She rolled her eyes but dropped the covers back down. "Is it Thursday?"
"Yeah." I ran my hand over my chest as my pulse spiked. The woman was by far that most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life.
"Then I have dinner with Lanie." She flopped back down on the bed. "I'll call you later though."
"Come over when you're done with your girl’s night. I want more of you." I picked up my shirt as she teased me in a sexy bedroom voice. I paused at the door and gave her a look. "You're about to get yourself a spanking."
"Please?"
I groaned as I walked out, hating meetings and hating Jonathan for forcing me to schedule one even more.
What artist went by someone else's timetable? Sell-Out.
*
I'd just finish up on the highlights to my latest piece when the doorbell rang. Jonathan. Right on time.
After wiping my hands on a hand towel, I walked languidly to the door and opened it. "Hey, man. Come on in. I just finished the piece I was telling you about."
"Matt. Good to see you too." He rolled his eyes and walked in. "Where's Erica?"
"She's at work. I guess the good people of the world are punching the clock. Thank God for them. I think the rest of us would starve without them."
"This is true. Show me the magic." Jonathan followed me back to my studio, the gangly fellow looking like the true depiction of an artist. I had too much of my father in me to look like anything but a frat boy. It was a curse, but it landed me in Erica's bed, so something was working right.
"Here it is." I stepped back and studied it.
"Wow. That's magnificent. We'll get it up to the studio and hang it in your section when it's fully dry, and you've done your final work on it." He clapped his hands and turned to me. "Now... the real reason I came by."
I put my hands on my hips. "I thought you came by to look at this."
"I did, but let's go into the kitchen and chat for a minute. I have a project that's been laid on my desk that I think you might enjoy working on."
"You know I hate working contract." I walked behind him and tried hard not to let myself act like a cock. Jonathan had been good to me, and the future was bright because of him. He was even interested in checking out some of Erica's work too.
Now, if I could just get her to let loose and put some paint on a canvas.
"I understand that, but you know it pays well." He walked over to my kitchen table and dropped down. "It's a pretty interesting project. I'd do it myself, but I have too many irons in the fire as it is."
"What's the project, who's it for and what's the pay?" I moved into the kitchen and poured us both a cup of coffee, like little old men. "Cream and sugar?"
"Both, please. I like my coffee and tea like a dessert."
"The English would boo you right out of their country." I smiled up at him. "Keep going. I'm listening."
"It's for a private investor, a silent one, actually." He leaned back in his chair. "It's eight pieces, and all of them are chosen already. They're various people and places here in Seattle, so no travel would be required."
"There's a bonus." I walked over to the table and set our mugs down. "The pay?"
"Two million for the project, and a bonus of five hundred thousand if you can get it done in the next four months."
"Four months for eight paintings? That's going to be pushing it, big time." Excitement raced through my chest. It was a great payday and more than I would make working for my father and Damon over the next three to four years.
The only issue was being told what to paint. That part weighed heavily on me.
"Seems like a nice sum of money. And what's got you so tied up that you're willing to part with something this big?" I picked up my mug and blew gently on my coffee.
"We're looking at opening another art gallery in New York City this spring. It's a huge undertaking, and I'm not quite sure we're ready, but my wife thinks differently. She says it's time to open another storefront." He shrugged. "What the wife wants, she usually gets one way or another."
I smiled. "I'm going to ask Erica to marry me sometime next year. Probably early spring. It just depends on how everything goes."
"And things are going well now?" He ran his finger around the edge of his mug but kept his eyes locked on me.
Everything was great, other than the fact that she had something going on that I wasn't privy to. It had to be something to do with work. Had to be.
"Oh yeah. She's a dream."
"And a beautiful one at that." Jonathan leaned over and pulled out a folder. "I have the contract here for the special project if you want to give it a look."
"I'll do that." I took the folder from him and tried to relax. It was a good next step for me, and maybe having a contract in place would encourage Erica to step out and dream alongside me. Not that she wasn't supporting my dreams, but I wanted to help support hers. There was no way in hell that she was truly happy working for my father.
I'd only been there a few days and already felt like a hamster in a cage.
"Alright, Matthew. I need to be going. I have a million things to do today." He stood up, pulling me from my reverie. "Just phone the office and let them know when you're done with the mountain piece. We'll send the guys over to get it."
"Awesome." I got up and walked him to the door. "Hey, Jonathan."
"What's up?" He walked out and turned back, lifting his eyebrow.
"Who was the guy that bought the painting of Erica? Anyone you know?"
"He's a young art collector from London. Very wealthy fellow, actually. I've worked with him several times."
"And he got his money from inheritance?"
"Yes. He's very much into supporting new artists, especially ones as talented as you."
"Alright. Thanks." I closed the door behind him and forced my thoughts away. As long as Mitch Roberson didn't end up with the painting I was good. "Speaking of..."
I grabbed my phone and dropped down on the couch, calling my brother. He answered right away.
"Hey, bro. What's going on?"
"Hey, man. I meant to get a little bit more time with you when I was home, but I cut the trip short."
"I'd say so. You left the day after you got there." His jovial tone lifted my spirits. "I'm guessing either Erica wanted you home, or you were missing her like a big ass girl."
"Yep. All of the above." I ran my hand over my chest. "I wanted to talk to you about Mitch."
"Roberson?"
"Yeah. That guy." My thoughts darkened. Something about the man gave me the creeps. Where my father and Damon thought a lot of him, I couldn't help but see around the edge of his bullshit good guy persona. Was he the one making Erica feel off?
Damon chuckled. "Why the dark remark?"
"I don't like him."
"Why? Because he has great tastes and wanted to buy the picture of Erica?"
"For starters."
"Matt. Seriously? You painted the damn thing and hung it in a gallery for everyone to come and see. You wanted someone to buy it. It's nice to think that a stand-up guy like Mitch would buy it and treat it well versus some idiot who jacks off to it in his living room every morning."
Sickness danced in my stomach. "You think the guy that bought it does that?"
"Alright. Moving on. You're being an idiot, and I don't have time for that. What do you need?"
"I just wanted to know more about Mitch."
"He's a guy who's smart as fuck, friends with dad, and lost his wife a long time ago. He's one of the good people in the world. Leave it alone."
"Fuck you too," I grumbled.
"Next?"
"I know we briefly t
alked about it, but I can’t shake whatever is going on with Erica. I keep trying to leave it alone, but I just can’t."
"Maybe she’s realized that she’s dating a dweeb." He snorted.
I ignored him being an ass. He had been one most of my life. "She's been in a really weird funk since the art showing. You think she's mad at me for painting the portrait of her."
"Didn't she pose naked for hours for you to paint it?"
"Something like that." I hated him for making so much goddamn sense.
"Alright, buddy. I'm glad we had this talk. Call if you need anything."
"I hate you sometimes." I dropped the call and leaned back on the couch, closing my eyes. I was over-thinking all of it. Erica wasn't upset with me. She'd have let me know in one way or the other the night before, and she hadn't. She'd been more than happy to make love to me deep into the night.
My phone buzzed, and I grabbed it, expecting it to be Damon.
"What?" I barked angrily into the phone.
Erica's voice surprised me. "Hey, baby. You okay? You sound upset."
I chilled immediately. "Oh yeah. I just got off the phone with Damon, and he made me feel stupid. He's pretty good at that."
"Well, you're not stupid. Tell me about the meeting with Jonathan. Did everything go okay? Did he like the new piece?"
I spent the next few minutes telling her about my meeting with Jonathan. The sound of her getting more and more excited over the details had me feeling far more confident in my abilities than I had before we talked.
"Well, I'm crazy proud of you."
"Thanks, baby." I stood up and stretched. "You sure you can't come over tonight?"
"I wish. I owe Lanie some time, and if I know I'm going home to an empty house, then I won't rush through dinner to get to you. She's back in a contemplative mode where she's trying to figure out her life and who she is. I need to be there for her."
"Alright. I understand." And I did, but I didn't like it.
"Enjoy the rest of your day, okay?"
"Alright, baby. You sure you're doing good? I keep feeling like maybe there's something you're not telling me."
"Nope. I'm good. Better now that you're home."
"Love you," I whispered into the phone, a little shocked at how natural it felt to say it.
"Love you too."
She was more than I could hope for and so much more than I deserved. I just prayed like hell that she stayed mine. Something told me that something or someone was lurking just around the bin to take her from me.
I couldn't shake the fact that I knew exactly who it was too.
Mitch.
Chapter 6
Erica
The last thing I wanted to do was go into the office, but until I figured out what to do with my life, it was my only option. It was almost laughable to think that I was grumbling about Lanie needing to find herself, when I too, was lost.
"Erica. You've got Mr. Bryant on line one," Joan said as she stuck her hand in the open doorway of my office.
"Which one?" I reached for the phone. I had a much more laid back relationship with Damon than his father.
"Damon." She closed the door behind her.
"Hello, Sir. To what do I owe this phone call?" I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arm over my midsection.
"Hi, Erica. I was calling to check on the new ads for our Advisory launch in a month. Mitch isn't answering his phone, and I have a partner call later this afternoon. Just trying to get all of my ducks in a row." He was all business, which is why I liked him so much. He had an uncanny ability to separate business from pleasure.
"It's coming along nicely. I gave Mitch the files on Tuesday to review, but I haven't heard back from him." I stood. "I'll track him down and get back to you within the hour."
"Excellent." He paused, and I thought the conversation was over. The fact that his voice softened just a tad let me know that we were talking as friends now. "How are things with you and my brother?"
"Um, good? Why don't you ask your brother?"
"Because he doesn't like me up in his shit. I'm sure you understand that."
I thought of my own brother, Leon and cringed. The last thing I would ever want is for my older brother to play a part in my life. He was half the reason I had emotional scars and bullshit baggage from my childhood. My mother was the other half.
"I can understand that." I leaned over and pressed my free hand to the top of my desk. "We're doing great. Matt's ready for me to move in with him."
"And are you ready for that?"
I stifled a chuckled. The great Damon Bryant, who was known for his less than caring attitude and stiff demeanor cared about his brother more than anyone might know, even Matthew.
"I'm not sure, but I'm not dissecting it with you. I'd rather pay someone good money for that conversation."
"Hey! We might be family soon." Sadness swelled inside of me. What were the odds that Matt and I could make it past all the shit with Mitch? "Erica? You still there?"
"Yeah. Just thinking."
"That was an odd part of the conversation to stop and think about something else." He let out a soft sigh. "Matt seems to think something is going on with you."
"He's just overly sensitive."
"Or maybe you're just hiding something to protect him or yourself."
"I need to get going. I have a meeting in five minutes that I'm not ready for. If I'm talking to my boss, then I'll cancel it, but if you're playing shrink, then I need to go."
"I'm not playing anything. I'm your friend and have been for a long time."
"I know." I pressed my fingers to my forehead as a million thoughts raced through my mind, each attached to a jacked up feeling I didn't want to entertain. "And I appreciate you. I do have some shit going on right now, but I'll figure it out. I always do."
"I'm here for you if you need me, Erica. As a boss or as family."
"Thank you for that." I ended the call and grabbed my cell phone. I needed to find Mitch and figure out what the hell was going on with his review on the ad specs. He was usually pretty quick about getting stuff back to me, but four days was dragging ass big time. Especially for him.
I walked out into the hallway and was a little surprised to see Mandy and Lewis standing close to each other, laughing. Really close.
"Um, hey you two. Everything okay?" I offered them a warm smile.
Lewis jerked away from her. "It's great, boss. We were just going to start working on our second drafts for the new project you handed over."
"Great." I moved past them toward Mitch's office. Were they together? Mitch had called it a few weeks back, but I didn't believe him. Fuck. Was everyone more in tune with the office than I was? Maybe I did need to look at other options. My heart wasn’t there anymore, and from the look of things, my head wasn't either.
Mitch's door was opened when I walked down the hall, and I didn't bother knocking. I honestly expected him to be gone. He glanced up from his desk, his expression tight.
"Erica. Come on in. Have a seat." He motioned for me to take a seat.
"Thanks. I just got off the phone with Damon. He wants an update on the latest ad specs. I sent them over-"
"On Monday, I know. It's been a long week." He leaned back in his chair and studied me. "They look great. Your team did a wonderful job matching every requirement I had for the design."
"Excellent. So we're good to submit them to the executive committee?" I stood, ready to get the fuck out of there.
"Sure. Go for it." He lifted his hand. "Before you go, you know that you and I have unfinished business."
"Nope. Not really." I crossed my arms over my chest in an effort to protect myself. "All I had was the ad specs on my list."
He chuckled darkly and stood. "I have a big art show to attend to on Saturday night for some investors in a new program that's sweeping the nation."
"Sounds great." I forced myself to stay put.
"I want you there with me. As my date."
"Not happening."
"You don't seem to understand the situation here, pretty girl." He walked around his desk and moved closer to me. Too close. "I'm not going to simply back off. You need to understand what you're giving up and what you're getting with the decisions you're making."
"Well, thank you, daddy, but it's not your place to teach me anything."
He reached out and gripped my wrist as I turned to go. "I could teach you a lot of things."
"Thank you, but no thanks." I pulled my wrist from his grasp and started toward the door.
"Erica." The sound of his voice stopped me in my tracks.
I glanced back. "What?"
"The event starts at seven. Meet me at my place at six-thirty."
"And if I don't?" I held my breath, truly unsure of how far the bastard in front of me would go to see me naked and wet beneath him.
"You'll force my hand. There are so many options, but I'd rather not use any of them. I'm not a bad guy. I just care enough to want you to see the light."
"I hate you." I turned and walked out of the door.
"Six-thirty," he called after me.
Fine. An art event around a zillion other people. I'd make it work, and when it was over, I'd go home. There was no way I believe Mitch capable of gagging me and throwing me in the back of his car. He wasn't a villain; he was just obsessed.
Obsessed with what? Fear danced in the pit of my stomach.
Obsessed with me.
*
"So I think if I just quit this spring at the elementary school that I'll go to the high school." Lanie leaned back from her plate and took a sip of her wine. We'd decided to go out to dinner instead of cooking, seeing that both of us were bone tired.
"And you really think high school is somewhere you want to be? I heard the kids get mean at that age."
"They're mean at every age." She downed the rest of her wine. "Call me an Uber if I get too drunk."
"Will do." I picked up my fork and pushed my pasta around the plate. I needed to tell Lanie about Mitch, but I couldn't force myself to do it. Where I knew she wouldn't judge me, she sure as hell would try and fix it.