Little Lies

by Elena M. Reyes

  “That coming from someone who didn’t have the decency to call and ask how their friend is coping? Not so much as a text either after once again embarrassing me in front of Theodore.” Pocketing the keys, I adjust my messenger bag and turn to face someone I thought of as a friend for so long. As my family. “Or how about the lack of apology after insulting and belittling me? Or trying to enter my home without permission?”

  “What happened at Theodore’s?” she asks instead again—same as last time—ignoring my claims while inspecting her broken acrylic nail. She doesn’t know about our date. I’m also not going to share. “What did you do there?”

  “Why are you here?” I counter with just as much iciness, taking in how messy she looks. This isn’t the woman I know. The same one that dresses to the nines at all times of the day and throws shade at anyone who doesn’t follow her fashion-forward protocols. “And don’t lie, or add in fake concern for me. That ship has sailed.”

  Her hand clenches, and the smile on her face is sardonic. “Going against me is a grave error, Gabby.”

  “No. That was not seeing you for what you truly are.” Her face pales at that, eyes widening a bit as they meet my own for the first time. Such a weird reaction to a statement about hypocrisy. “You lied to me, Elise, over and over again, and I’m done.” Prove to me that I’m wrong and you aren’t the kind of person you’re behaving like.

  “I made you who you are.” At this, I scoff, bored with this conversation. It’s taken me some self-reflection, but I’ve come to terms with her true feelings—understand those little quirks that for so long I made excuses for. Moreover, those words shred the last little bit of hope I held that she was concerned and nothing else. “The Astor Galleries would’ve never so much as looked at your garbage portfolio without my assistance. You needed me, and I did what needed to be done in order to rise to the top.”

  Those words show me her true colors.

  Greed. Selfishness. Envy.

  It hurts. The betrayal stings, but the fact I’ve been too stupid to see past the I have a friend syndrome embarrasses me. Makes me question who I am to allow this.

  “You faked being my friend all this time. Used me.” Swallowing back my emotions, I level her with an indifferent stare. I can see this bothers her. And I also smirk at how easily ruffled she is. How did I not see this before? “What do you get out of all this crap?”

  “That’s not your concern, Gabby.” It’s a hiss through clenched teeth, her eyes narrowing. Elise’s posture is meant to intimidate, and yet, I find myself matching her movements. I’m not budging or backing down, much less asking her to forgive me. I’m not going to cower, and when she brings a finger up to my face, I don’t hesitate to grip her wrist in my hand and squeeze tightly. “Let go.”

  “What do you gain?”

  “Just know that in this game, I’ll always win. I’ve done so many times already.” The woman sounds like a crazy person.

  “What does that even mean?”

  “Let go.” She steps into my personal space, yet fails to remove her arm from my grip. Instead, the closer she gets, the more I tighten my hold, and I don’t miss the look of surprise that flashes across her face. “You’re pushing your luck today. Last warning.”

  “Answer me.”

  “It means you’re out of your league, little girl.”

  “That’s where you are wrong, Miss Scott,” a male voice says and both our faces turn, finding Tero standing not far from us with both hands in his pockets. He’s dressed for a day at the office, yet no blazer, and the tie is long gone, it seems. “Now, why don’t you share with her the illegal move you tried to accomplish three days ago after seeing that pathetic man who worked as a copyright lawyer.”

  “This doesn’t concern you.”

  “Oh, but it does, mulher. Você está fodido.”

  Once again, Elise tries to snatch her arm back, and I relent after her second failed attempt, stepping off to the side. Tero also takes his place beside me, leaving her ample room to walk back the way she came, and after another glare, she does. There’s no explanation from her over his accusation, and dread fills my stomach.

  “Why would she go see a lawyer? What is—”

  “We need to talk, Gabriella. Let’s take a walk.”

  “Only after you tell me what you told her in another language?” I’m already heading down the pathway with him close behind, almost like a guard dog protecting my steps. “And where is Theodore? I haven’t heard from—”

  “One at a time, Miss Moore.”

  “Cut the formalities, Tero.” Rolling my eyes, I head toward the park nearby. This deviation is going to put me behind schedule, my much-needed trip to the supply store will be a tight one, but he has to be here for a reason. “Spill.”

  “All I said is that she’s fucked in Portuguese.”

  “And I learned something new.” Laughter, loud and high-pitched, bursts forth and I’m unapologetic in it. Thank God he doesn’t get offended, and instead chuckles beside me, shoulders shaking. We stand like that for a few minutes on the sidewalk, both finding hilarity in the stupidest thing, but then another thought pops into my head. “Is that your native tongue?”

  “You could say that since I was born in Brazil.” He’s smiling, the look on his face one of reminiscing while pointing toward the park’s entrance. I’m following his lead, and we walk until reaching an open area with benches along the path. No one is there and before I can ask, he bumps his shoulder into mine. “Besides, you’ll probably have worse to say when—”

  “One, are you stalling? And two, most definitely.”

  “You could say so, but—”

  “I’ll take it from here, Tero.”

  His voice never fails to send shivers down my spine and harden my nipples. It’s soothing, yet feels like molten lava flowing across my senses, a dominating presence that’s undeniably man. Sensual. Commanding.

  “Theodore.”

  “Hello, beautiful.” He steps beside me and bends down just enough to lay a kiss on my cheek as the other man leaves; his lips hover there a second longer than what’s considered the norm. My skin also tingles there. My body wants to feel them again. “How have you been these last few days?”

  “Relentlessly working.”

  “On my pieces?”

  “Yeah.” Theodore attempts to ask me something else but I shake my head, holding a hand up. “But I have a feeling that what you need to share is far more important than my delving into the wonderful world of bases and setups.”

  “True.” He doesn’t chuckle as I expect, and my stomach twists. “Please have a seat.”

  “How bad?”

  “Take a look, and I’ll tell you what I think.” It’s then I notice a folder already placed on the bench, and I sit on the edge before picking it up with a bit of hesitation. My eyes go from it to Theodore’s, and he nods, encouraging me to open up and read down the first page. He chooses to remain standing while I flip to the next page and the next, not truly wanting to believe what I’m reading while I’m once again smacked in the face by betrayal. Why, Elise?

  “Jesus.” Because what else can I say as the papers in front of me depict how Elise tried to copyright my artwork as her own. The filing is here. It’s her name on the dotted line. “How the hell could she do this? Does this mean she owns my currently available work? What about the pieces already sold or commissioned?”

  Is this part of her threat? What she’s using to warn me off with?

  Tears gather at my eyes, and my heart clenches so painfully tight that I gasp, the papers falling from my grasp. All my hard work. All the sacrifices and hours spent in my studio.

  “No.” His one-word response causes me to look up at him through blurry eyes. “She will not get away with this, Gabriella. That’s my promise to you.”

  “But what can I do? If she’s approved and—”

  “My lawyers have already submitted the paperwork necessary to prove that she’s lied on the application along
with a signed affidavit from the lawyer stating this.”

  “How?” I ask, because what person would willingly admit to filing an unlawful form with the intent to harm knowing this could cause him to be possibly sued or fined. “Why would he do that?”

  “I’m persuasive, and we’ll leave it at that.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Scared a good twenty years off his life,” he says, his eyes alight with amusement, and I can’t help but smile even though a part of me just died. Even though I surely look like a mess, eyes watery and cheeks blotchy, I’m relieved by his words. I also have no way to pay him back for his kindness. “And whatever you’re thinking, stop it. I’m sure karma will deal with them both and fairly.”

  “I’m still so thankful.”

  “And I promised to take care of you. Did I not?” At my nod, he takes my hand not clutching the folder and stands me up. Just one tug and I’m against his chest. His arms snake around my waist, and his unoccupied hand lifts my chin. Those lips are so close to my own, his touch so comforting when I should be a crying mess. “It’s also why I had Tero follow her since yesterday and came over when he called to tell me where she was heading. I’m willing to fight all your battles, Gabriella. To be what you need in whatever shape you need me to be—be it a friend or the devil himself, but please know that everything I do is with your best interest at heart.”

  23

  Theodore

  Three days ago...

  * * *

  Tero’s waiting for me inside my office when I walk in. The gallery is empty except for the two of us and his wife who sits in the lobby while reading through some paperwork. Meera’s questioning gaze follows me, I know she has questions but waits until prudent, to ask them.

  “What did you find?” I take a seat behind my desk, my chair creaking when I lean back.

  “Not me, but Meera.” At the raise of my brow, Tero pushes a black folder across my desk. “You might want to take a look at that.”

  The first page is one with quotes from five different law offices, and each one deals with copyright law. The numbers are high for all, but the last one is the only one willing to take on the case without proof of ownership. “Who is he?”

  “Turn to the next page.”

  And when I do, my blood boils as a standard contract sits before me between Elise Scott and one David Hall from Hall and Hall Associates in Portland. Something that in and of itself throws a few red flags up as he’s been in trouble before for fraud, a case that made the national news sites. And two, why not someone local and with a better reputation?

  “How many laws does this contract break?”

  “At least five from initial review, but the largest is illegal intent to acquire the rights to Gabriella’s work. The government doesn’t take kindly to lying on a federal form.”

  “And how did you come across this?” I ask, flipping to the next page and reading the details of every item listed in the over forty copyright submissions. From paintings to a handful of sculptures to the right to my commissioned pieces. “The conniving bitch.”

  “Elise is worse than that, but she’s not acting alone.” At my nod, he lets out a small chuckle. “And to answer your previous question, my wife was looking into one filed for the gallery and randomly made a search under Gabriella Moore. This is what came back as Miss Scott was cocky enough to attempt and take ownership of Gabriella’s name as if it were her pseudonym.”

  “I imagine Meera’s upset.”

  “You know where her—our—loyalties lie, Mr. Astor.”

  “That I do.” Skimming a bit lower on the document, I find something that’s a bit odd. “And where’s the lawyer now?”

  “Being interrogated as we speak by a friend of mine in a Portland precinct.”

  Nodding, I take out my phone and check the time. “My guess is he’s spending the night?”

  “Correct.”

  “What about the identity of the third party involved?”

  “It’s a pair, and we’ve had a sighting. They’re close, but not showing their faces yet.”

  “Thank you.” Tero looks like he has something else to say but heeds the warning in my tone and walks out of my office. My desk has three files in total: two sinners and one saint, but the latter seems to always pay the price since birth. Sitting back, I scratch my jaw while eyeing each name—the male and female that seem to need something from my girl. “Why do they want you, Gabriella? What hand haven’t they shown yet?”

  Present...

  * * *

  She’s in shock.

  The look on her face is one of deep loss, and I’m angry for her, at her, for letting someone so unworthy so close. A disgusting woman who believes in self-service and destroying anything in her path. But then again, Gabriella’s too sweet and trusting, two qualities that don’t exist in the world we live in anymore.

  “Talk to me.” My voice is low, yet it still carries a bit of ire. It’s a tumultuous feeling as my desire is ever-present, but right now all I can think about is sweeping her into my arms and shielding her from the pain. However, the anguish she’s in is necessary no matter how much I wish it wasn’t. It’s her path. Part of her growth.

  Her eyes have been shut for so long. Her intuition is lost by choosing to trust others.

  “To be honest, Theodore, I don’t know what to think. Her betrayal is setting in now—punching me in the face—and my mind can’t stop questioning her motives and my stupidity.”

  “You two are worlds apart, sweetheart.”

  “How so?” Those sad green eyes look at me from beneath long lashes, her posture so defeated. “Please, help me understand. Help me not fall apart.”

  “I’d catch you as you fall, Gabriella. Each and every time.” A lone tear falls from her eye and my chest aches, something that I’d feel for no other. No woman or man has ever affected me as she does with a single look, and it’s been this way since I first set my eyes on her. “But this is part of life, sweetheart. You live and learn and become a bit harder after each lesson. No one is inherently good. No one deserves your blind trust until they’ve proven themselves.”

  “And how does someone prove themselves? How can I—”

  “By paying attention.” Her lips purse, and had this been any other time, I would’ve kissed her. Would’ve taken the very breath from her lungs and fed my soul with her taste, but I don’t. Instead, I tuck her head under my chin and give her the comfort she needs. And when I feel the tension leave her body, I kiss the crown of her head, speaking into it. “Your heart has always been beautiful, even toward those who have never deserved your empathy. But the time has come, Gabriella, to not give until you receive. To open those gorgeous green eyes and see the world for what it is, and while you learn, I’ll hold your hand. When you stumble, I’ll teach you to hold your ground. But what I won’t do, not today or in the future, is let you carry a cross that isn’t your burden.”

  “But doesn’t that defeat the purpose of not trusting easily if I give in to you?”

  “It does.” Won’t deny it. “And trust me, I’m the worst of all.”

  Her head shifts, and our eyes meet once again. “What does that even mean?”

  “It means I’m the worst beast of all because it’s your heart that I’m after. Because I want all of you, not leaving a single molecule of your DNA untouched. But know this: just like I’ll devour you, I’ll never leave your side. You’ll own me as irrecoverably as I’ll own you.”

  “Anything you want to watch?” Gabriella asks an hour later after changing into a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. We’re in her family room and on the couch, sitting side by side while sharing a blanket. Her choice. She hasn’t talked much after my confession; not in an uncomfortable way, but more contemplative—dissecting what she learned and my admission, because I want her.

  All of her. Every soft inch.

  Every sigh. Every moan. Every tear.

  “I doubt you’ll enjoy what I decompress to.”

/>   “Try me.” The streaming app is open and her avatar is quite cute in a purple-ish shade and superhero costume. “You’ll be surprised at what I enjoy.”

  I’m more surprised with her need to have me close. The sweet way she asked me to stay.

  Walking her to the door, I step to the side and wait for her to unlock it. “Will you be okay?”

  Gabriella doesn’t answer at first, turning and pushing the doorknob instead before turning to face me from the other side of the threshold. “Are you leaving?”

  “I’m not going to assume you want me here, beautiful. You’ve had a rough day, and I’ll give you space.”

  Her brows furrow. “But I don’t want you to leave.”

  “Are you sure? I’m only a phone call away.”

  “This is my way of asking you.”

  “I need to hear you say the words, Gabriella. I’m not going to assume.”

  “Theodore, come inside and lock the door behind you...” she’s walking away, calling from over her shoulder while her hips sway from side to side “...I’m not in the mood for more surprise visits.”

  “Don’t complain later.”

  “Just pick something. I’ll be right back.” Gabriella stands from her place beside me and heads toward her kitchen, the opening of her fridge following soon after. “Do you want anything? It’s all sugary and bad for you.”

  “No, thank you,” I call back and then scroll through her Watch Again selection, quite impressed with her choices. She is a little morbid, and that makes me smile as it’s nothing but dangerous animals and serial killers with the occasional cultural documentary. No romance or comedy or even a cooking show. “Fuck, she’s perfect.”

  Something plastic is being opened and then another door opens; my guess is the microwave, and my suspicion is confirmed a few seconds later when the smell of popcorn permeates the air. “Did you pick yet? If not, it’s my choice when I get back.”