Power Play

by Vera Roberts

  Ian walked back to her and caressed her hair again. “You should study it. You’re living in LA now.” He walked inside the Gallery and made a beeline to his office. He closed the door and searched for Rebecca’s image. Once he found it, he saved it and sent an e-mail to his security team:

  From: Ian Ferguson

  To: Security – Staples Center; Security – Ferguson Gallery; Security – Ferguson Entertainment Group; Security – Ferguson Enterprises.

  Subject: Rebecca MacDonald

  All,

  From this moment forth, Rebecca MacDonald is blacklisted from all properties. Attached is her picture. Do not let her or anyone associated with her on the premises. If she is allowed, you are immediately terminated.

  Ian sent the email and closed his laptop. He then got on the phone with the head of security at the Gallery. “I’m expecting a commotion tonight when Dean Winchester arrives. I need your team to watch him. The moment he makes the wrong move, and you’ll know what it will be, throw him out. And yes, I mean that literally. Pick his ass up and toss him on that expensive, overwatered grass. Thank you.”

  ****

  “Hey,” the bartender pointed over to the corner of the Five Star Dive, “he’s over there.”

  “Thanks, man.” Jameson walked over to where Dean sat, along with Kyle, Two-Tone, and Caleb.

  Jameson received a call from the bartender who was concerned that Dean was exhibiting unusual behavior. Desperate to not make a scene, Jameson brought along Kyle, Two-Tone, and Caleb to help understand what was going on with Dean.

  “Hey man,” Two-Tone joined Dean at the booth. “I thought you would be at Sydney’s preview thingy she has going on tonight.”

  “Man, fuck Sydney,” Dean shook his head to the shock of his friends, “just forget her.”

  “Damn, what happened, bro?” Caleb asked. “This isn’t like you.”

  “Man, I paid for her to live with me. She drives my cars. She stays in my house, rent-free. All she does is paint all damn day. Hell, I can paint! And how does she repay me? She accuses me of cheating on her with Becca!” Dean took a long pull of his beer. “I’m so tired of her shit.”

  “Where did she get that idea?” Kyle asked. “You haven’t been with Becca in well over a year.”

  “That picture we all took,” Dean shook his head, “she’s said she’s known about it for a while and was just waiting for me to say something about it.”

  “Well, Dean, that wasn’t a good look, bro,” Jameson chimed in. “I saw that picture and if I didn’t know any better, I would think you and Becca were a couple, too.”

  “Man, did I ask for your crybaby, whiny-ass opinion?” Dean shot back.

  “Dean, that is a suspect picture and I was there,” Kyle replied, “But that’s not what this is about, is it?”

  “Syd’s accusing me of sleeping around but she’s forgetting the touchy-feely relationship she has with…with…that…Fergie dude.” Dean replied.

  “The singer?” Two-Tone asked.

  “Nah,” Dean shook his head, “Ferguson. Our boss.”

  “Sydney’s sleeping with a Ferguson?” Caleb asked.

  “Dude, do you know how much they’re worth?” Two-Tone asked. “Hell, I’m not even gay and I would sleep with a Ferguson.”

  “Real talk, that doesn’t sound like Syd, Dean.” Jameson reasoned. “She wouldn’t sleep with someone else and still be in your house.”

  “Oh, she’s solved that problem,” Dean nodded, “he bought her a loft.”

  “He bought her a loft?” Two-Tone asked. “Dude, he’s definitely fucking her.”

  “Stop instigating him,” Kyle shut up Two-Tone, “are you sure about this? I’ve seen the work Sydney’s posted online and it seems like she doesn’t have time to do anything but art.”

  The thought of Sydney spreading her thighs open for Ian made Dean’s heart turn black. “Oh, she’ll have time for him,” he took another long pull of his beer.

  “Okay, dude…” Caleb put the bottle down. He silently counted the bottles on the table and saw Dean finished off seven bottles already. “…you’ve had a bit too much tonight, man. Let’s get you home so you can sleep this off.”

  “No, I’m going to the preview and tell her how I feel.”

  “Dean, you’re not going to the preview and we’re not taking you there,” Jameson mentioned. “Come on, man. I’ll drive you home so you can think about this in the morning.”

  “No need, my friend,” Dean slapped the younger man’s back as he got up and stumbled out to an awaiting car, “I already called an Uber.”

  The men stood back and watched Dean leave. “Ten bucks says he’ll be on TMZ tomorrow morning,” Two-Tone folded his arms.

  “Hell, five bucks says he’ll be on there by the end of the night,” Caleb shook his head, “this will not end well.”

  ****

  As the sounds of 90’s R&B filled the dressing room, Sarah bopped to the music in the corner as a hairstylist and make-up artist were primping Sydney. It was a joyus time as everyone danced and sang to the music.

  “Who was better…” Sarah began. “…SWV, EnVogue, or TLC?”

  “Oh, definitely EnVogue,” The hairstylist answered, “they paved the way.”

  “I don’t know about that,” the makeup artist replied, “Everyone was bopping to Sexy, Crazy, Cool back then.”

  “Okay, but those vocals Coko had?” Sarah grew up on SWV and had a soft spot for Sisters with Voices. “She could blow out T-Boz and her sore throat ass.”

  “What do you think, Syd?” The hairstylist asked.

  “Don’t even bother asking her,” Sarah dismissed her, “she’s a diehard Destiny’s Child fan. She probably has no idea who we’re talking about.”

  “Hey now!” Sydney remained as the makeup artist applied fake lashes on her. “I loved EnVogue. Whatta Man? I mean, yeah, I was like, two, when the song came out but my mother played it all the time!”

  “That was the song that made every woman want a thug. That was long before “Soldier” by Beyoncé and her backup singers,” Sarah added. A notification on her phone interrupted her enjoyment of SWV’s “Right Here.” It was Jameson.

  Emergency.

  What is it?

  Dean’s on his way to the Gallery. I’m not with him. He took an Uber.

  “Shit,” Sarah muttered under her breath, “this is not good.”

  Did you try to stop him?

  He wouldn’t listen to any of us. He’ll be there within the next 20 minutes, I think.

  Okay, I’ll try to distract Syd. Hopefully, he won’t make too much of an ass out of himself tonight.

  Sarah put away the phone and felt her stomach twist into several knots. Dean was going to make an ass out of himself, for sure. She just wondered in what spectacular fashion he would do it.

  ****

  The preview went on without a hitch. As guests enjoyed champagne and hors d’oeuvres, and listened to an eclectic mix by Sugah Bear, they were treated to a small preview of Sydney’s work before her exhibit opened up in a couple of months. Meanwhile, Sydney demonstrated how she was the real deal by spontaneously drawing a couple on a boat, in the middle of a lake. She used rich colors such as purple, yellow, green, and orange, as she worked the oils on a blank canvas.

  “Sydney!” An admirer called out to her. “What’s this one called?”

  Sydney stepped back and studied the painting. “Sea of Everything,” she replied.

  Ian stood near Sydney as he watched her work. It was incredible how she could take swatches of colors with a few swipes of her thumbs and brushes, and create a magnificent painting. She truly was one of a kind. “This is spectacular, Sydney,” Ian commented, “I’m going to hold this for the Gallery. No one is buying this.”

  Sydney chuckled. “This is just for fun. I can make a better one.”

  “I’m sure you can but I want this one,” Ian smiled at her, “name your price and I’ll buy.”

  Ian’s intense stare sent
shockwaves through Sydney’s soul. Her mouth suddenly became cottony and she felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I don’t have one.”

  “Yes, you do.” Ian walked closer to her. “Everyone has a price.”

  “Bravo! Bra-vo!” Dean loudly cheered as the audience parted like the Red Sea. “I say that’s your best work ever, Sydney!”

  Sydney’s eyes widened as she saw a disheveled Dean. She rushed over to him and could smell him before she approached. “You are drunk! You need to leave now before you make a fool of yourself!”

  “Before I make a fool out of myself?” He bolstered. “Why would you believe that? Can’t a fiancée come and support his girl?” He looked around. “Or has my spot been taken already?”

  “Dean,” Sydney gritted her teeth, “I’m asking you, please…please leave now.”

  “I came here to support my girl and she wants me to leave!” He yelled to no one in particular. “I wonder why…hmm….is it because of the fancy stars here who are faker than a white girl with a big ass?” His eyes landed on Ian, who nursed his whiskey. “Or is it because of you?”

  “Dean,” Sydney stood before him, “let’s go home. I’ll take you home.”

  “No,” he brushed her off and waltzed towards Ian, “you got into her head. You are the one who’s been causing problems between us.”

  The Gallery security team appeared from the shadows. Ian held up his index finger, telling them to wait.

  “You own me,” Dean hiccupped, “and now you own Sydney.” He stepped closer to Ian. “Tell me, Ian…when you kiss Sydney, how does my dick taste?” Dean lost his balance and stumbled backwards, knocking over an artifact. Ian gave the signal to his team and Dean was promptly escorted out of the Gallery by security. Per Ian’s instruction, they threw him out on the lawn as Sydney looked on, completely mortified.

  ****

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like?” Sydney hurriedly packed her clothing. Once Dean left, the party resumed without a hitch. When Sydney arrived home, she wasted no time packing her bags. “I’m leaving.”

  “So, this is what you do? Each time we have a fight, you leave?” Dean took a pull of his beer. “I should nickname you Runaway Bride.”

  “Funny,” Sydney zipped up her luggage and started downstairs with Dean hot on her tail. “See you later.”

  “You don’t even want to know my side of the story?” He asked.

  Sydney stopped walking and turned back. She dropped her luggage on the floor. “What side is it? The side you don’t want to see me win? The side you hate thinking you have to share the spotlight? The side where you wanted me to barefoot and pregnant? What side of the story is it?”

  “The side where you wanted Ian instead of me,” his eyes sharpened to a blazing green, “and you were too chickenshit to admit it. I went there to see it for myself.”

  “No, you did that intentionally to embarrass me! You knew how important tonight was and who was going to be there! So what do you do? You show up, drunk off your ass, and being completely belligerent to anyone in your path.”

  “Say it, Syd. Just say it. You want to fuck Ian, don’t you? You want him to spread your legs across that pool table…” Dean’s words were stopped by a harsh slap to his face. He touched his stinging cheek and smacked his lips. “…they say the truth hurts.”

  “Damn you,” her voice was filled with quiet anger, “I uprooted my entire life for you. I gave up my job, moved away from my family and friends because it’s what you wanted. I have been faithful to you while you’re on the road doing who knows what. And yes, I have a crush on Ian but that’s all it is. A simple and harmless crush. We work together a lot because he pays me to. If I don’t deliver for the Ferguson gallery, my career is finished, Dean! What about that don’t you understand? You were the one that encouraged my art and now you’re the one who’s distracting me from it! I’m sorry I’m not some peroxide-bleached, airheaded bimbo who only wants you for your money and status. I’m sorry I actually have a life that doesn’t consist of just being a WAG to one of the world’s most famous athletes.” Sydney removed her ring and slammed it on the counter. “I’m sorry I let you waste my time. I’ll move out by the end of the week.” She left.

  Twelve

  Ian was enjoying an evening out with friends at 3121 when he went to the restroom to refresh. On the way back, he caught Sydney at the bar, nursing her vino and looking rather despondent.

  Since the disastrous preview days before, Sydney had avoided his phone calls and numerous texts. Ian assumed it was out of embarrassment and humiliation. He couldn’t even blame her. She probably felt Dean ruined her only chance and she couldn’t bear to show her face to anyone named Ferguson.

  This was the part where Ian felt there was a thin line between being a concerned friend and overstepping his boundaries. He cared about Sydney, not just as his artist, but as a person. He knew the right thing was to say hi to her, inquire about her evening, and then keep it moving.

  Ian was never expected to do the right thing ever.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” Ian joined her at the bar, “I thought you would be at home nursing Dean.”

  “I don’t have a home,” Sydney took a sip of her red wine, “Dean and I broke up. For good this time.”

  Ian should’ve been elated but he wasn’t. While Sydney would get some fantastic art out of her, she had to sacrifice her happiness to achieve it. Dean’s behavior at the Gallery was an embarrassment to everyone, Ian included. “I’m sorry to hear that, Syd.”

  “It is what it is. You were right about him all along.” She shrugged. “He loved I was in the background and not at the forefront.”

  Ian remained silent for a few moments as he contemplated what he said and if it really did factor into their breakup. “I’m sorry, Sydney,” was all he could muster.

  “It’s fine,” she finished her wine in a gulp as Ian studied her, “it’s for the best. I’m moving out this week. I’ll figure out where I’m going to stay later.”

  “Stay at the loft. It’s yours.” Ian suggested.

  “You bought it for the two of us,” Sydney shook her head. “I can’t be there and be reminded of him.”

  “Dean never stepped foot inside the loft and as far as I’m concerned, it was never his because he didn’t want to claim it. It’s yours.” The bartender came by to refill Sydney’s glass and Ian shook his head. The bartender soon left. “Let me take you home.”

  “I’m not drunk,” Sydney defended.

  “And I don’t want you to be,” Ian stood up and helped Sydney off the stool. “Let’s go.”

  ****

  Ian drove Sydney home and followed her to the loft. Once inside, he poured a couple of glasses of water for them both and made himself comfortable on her sofa. “Look at the bright side,” he began, “great art is going to come out of this.”

  “I certainly hope so,” she took the glass and sipped it, “because I’m feeling like shit right now. It’s been a rotten few months.”

  “Has things always been like this?” He asked, leaning back on the sofa. “You don’t seem like the type to tolerate a man’s shit for so long.”

  “Hah!” Sydney laughed. “You clearly don’t know me. I tolerate a lot about a man and none of it is pleasant.”

  “Why?”

  Ian’s question shocked Sydney. No one had ever asked her why because they just assumed. “What?”

  “Why? You’re a smart and beautiful young woman, Sydney.” Ian crossed his legs. “Why would you tolerate bad treatment because you’re in love?”

  “And that’s my problem. I tolerate bad treatment because I’m in love. We all do. We suck it up and bear it because that’s what society taught us to do. No one wants to go on Facebook and read how fucked up your relationship is. On the same token, no one wants to see how happy you are because you remind them of their own misery.” Sydney revealed. “With Dean, I felt I was constantly trying to prove myself. I didn’t
care about his money, his status, or anything. Hell, I don’t even like hockey that much and it wasn’t enough for him.

  “He has groupies flirt with him all of the time. I see what they say on his IG page. They’re talking about how they can’t wait for him to come to their city so they can suck his dick. And they’re saying this, hoping I’m reading his comments, and want me to fight them. And he doesn’t block them. He doesn’t tell them to stop saying all of that. He ignores them and so do I. But when it came to you,” she finally turned to him, “he couldn’t stand it. He can’t ignore you because you’re always present. He can’t tell you to go to hell because it’ll ruin things for the Kings. So what does he do? He ruins the closest thing to you – me.

  “Him showing up drunk was intentional. He knew he would be rowdy. He knew he would make a mess. He knew all of that. But in the process of trying to humiliate you, he ended up destroying us.” Sydney shook her head. “So once again, I’m left alone after giving myself fully into a person, and then wondering when all is said and done, how I managed to not see all of the obvious signs that this wasn’t working?”

  “You were in love. No one gets in a relationship and just hope for the best. They get into one because they want the best.” Ian rubbed her hand. “You did everything you could and everything you wanted to do. Don’t beat yourself up for failing.”

  Ian’s touch was comforting and Sydney immediately felt comforted. “How many times must I shatter before I finally break?” She sipped her water and briefly forgot it was just that as she swallowed the tasteless liquid. “This tastes exactly how I feel – empty, sad, and shallow. This should be bourbon.”

  “I think water is suiting you just fine.” Ian mentioned. He glanced down at his Aerternitas Mega 4 watch. It was getting late and he needed to get home. He had a lot of work to do, including hiring security for Sydney’s opening night so Dean wouldn’t have a repeat performance. “I need to be heading out now. Do you think you’ll be fine tonight?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She got up and Ian followed her lead. She walked him to the front door and gave him a warm embrace. She pressed her body against his and relished in his touch. “Thanks for being such a great friend, Ian.”