Since I Found You

by Ashelyn Drake

  “Whitney, you don’t have to do this. I can drop you off. I promise I’ll leave right away if that’s what you want.”

  I can’t stand to see the hurt on his face right now. If I don’t make him leave, I’m going to cave, and I can’t. I can’t let him think it’s okay to run my life for me because it’s not at all. “Please, Alex. Just go.”

  He reaches his hand toward me, but I start walking away. I don’t know if I’m relieved or completely crushed when he doesn’t follow.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alex

  Whitney doesn’t answer any of my phone calls all weekend long. I wind up writing the article myself, though I don’t tell David that and I put Whitney’s name in the byline. It’s probably a stupid move. All I’m doing is controlling her life yet again. I understand why she’s upset. She’s right. I overstepped my bounds by making the offer with Mr. Ambrogi. I had no right to do that. Just like I have no right to try to buy that painting of me under false pretenses. But, damn it if my heart doesn’t keep overruling my brain when it comes to Whitney. I don’t know how to control myself around her.

  “Where’s Whitney?” David asks when eleven o’clock rolls around and she still hasn’t shown up.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Uh-oh.” He sits down in the seat opposite me in the break room. “What happened?”

  “I was an ass.”

  He bobs his head from side to side like he’s considering it. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “You know I’m kidding. Tell me what happened. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.”

  It sounds worse when I reiterate the shitty things I did without her consent.

  “Wow. Do you know women at all?” he asks with a laugh. “I mean, I haven’t met one yet who likes being told what to do, but to make all of her major life decisions for her? That takes some real balls, my friend.”

  More like real stupidity. “I’m not sure how to fix this. I haven’t talked to her since Friday.”

  His eyes narrow at me before he leans in and whispers, “She didn’t help you write that article, did she?”

  My only answer is to look down at the table and avoid his gaze.

  “I see. I guess I should have her removed from the byline, seeing as how you forgot to do that before submitting the article.” His sarcasm isn’t lost on me.

  “I’m not sure what to do or if she’s coming back here, but I didn’t want her to lose this job because of me.”

  “Are you indirectly asking me to keep her in the byline?”

  I finally look up at him. “I guess I can’t really ask you to do that.”

  “No, I wouldn’t. It’s not a smart career choice.” He stands up and looks around the empty break room. “Although, I’m pretty sure I never came in here this morning. In fact, I haven’t seen you all day. I’ve been too busy with meetings and edits.” He walks out without another word.

  I’d be lost without the people at this paper. When I moved to Priority, I knew exactly no one. I came here because Mr. Monohan was the only one who would hire me. That’s what I got for taking a few years off after college to travel the world. But now I have an office full of coworkers I call friends. I’m pretty sure Emily’s theory that Mr. Monohan makes life here so good so none of us will ever want to leave him is spot-on.

  I pick up my phone and contemplate calling Whitney for the fifth time since Friday, but there’s nothing I can say that I haven’t already. She’ll call me when she’s ready, and I have to accept that. I finish up my work for the day at five. Then I call Mr. Ambrogi. I should tell him to contact Whitney from here on out. That way she can decide for herself if she wants to lease the space.

  The call goes to voice mail, so I head downtown instead. I find a parking spot near Fitness World and walk to the building with the space for lease. Whitney is squatting down in front of the side wall of the building. She’s busy painting an exact replica of the downtown square. I keep my distance, admiring her work from afar. It’s not until she steps back to study her painting that I say, “It’s incredible.”

  She turns to face me and sighs. “It still has a ways to go.”

  “When did you start it?” I ask, moving closer to get a better look.

  “Saturday morning. I’ve pretty much been here ever since.” She dips her paintbrush into some green paint, not meeting my gaze. “I kind of had to considering all I have to get done in the next two weeks.”

  Is she saying what I think she’s saying? I’m afraid to ask because I don’t want her to think I’m trying to pressure her or tell her what to do. I’ve done enough of that to last a lifetime.

  “Did you finish your story?”

  “Yeah, I turned it in Saturday morning.” On my way here, I called David to let him know the photos were taken by Whitney so she could get the credit. I felt like I had to do something to justify her name being on the article when he and I both know she didn’t write it.

  “I haven’t had time to read the news,” she says, gesturing to the mural. “This one is considerably larger than the others I did.”

  “Whitney, I’m sorry. I wish I could say something to fix this or take it all back, but I can’t. I came here because I tried to call Mr. Ambrogi so I could give him your number and tell him to contact you. I was trying to make things right and put the decision in your hands, where it should have been all along.”

  “Thank you,” she says. “For what it’s worth, I know you meant well.”

  “Are you saying you’re not angry with me anymore?” I take a cautious step toward her.

  “No. I’m not angry.”

  I smile, relief coursing through me. “I’m so happy to hear that. Will you let me take you to dinner tonight to make up for it?”

  “I can’t. I have to finish this mural.”

  “More painting under the moonlight?” I ask, intending for it to be a joke, but she doesn’t laugh.

  “Street lights.” Since she’s holding paint in one hand and a brush in the other, she points her elbow up at the nearest streetlight.

  “Right. Well, I could order some food and bring it here. We can picnic on the sidewalk. I mean, you have to eat, right?”

  She shakes her head. “I really don’t have time to stop. I have to get this finished tonight so I can get back to work on the paintings for the art show. I’m behind as it is.”

  Because of me. I nod. “Okay, then at least let me pick up dinner for you. I won’t stay or take up any more of your time. I just want to make sure you eat something.”

  “I packed my dinner. Don’t worry about it.” Something about her body language says she hasn’t truly forgiven me despite saying she’s not angry anymore.

  “Please tell me how to make this better. I’m done trying to make decisions for you. I’m not even sure what to do myself at this point. Help me out here, Whit.”

  She bites her lower lip. “My mom used to call me that.”

  “I’m sorry.” God, all I’m managing to do is upset her further.

  “Alex, I know you’re trying to fix things, but you can’t.” She inhales and closes her eyes before exhaling. When she looks at me again, her eyes are red. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have run to you when I needed a shoulder to cry on. I had Elana. She knows me, and she knew what I was going through. I latched on to you because I thought you could help me. I thought you writing about the murals would help me get what I wanted, but then I started to develop feelings for you, and I think I let things get out of control.”

  Is she saying she used me? I know her feelings for me are real. That painting she did of us proves it. She can play this off as her being emotional and not thinking clearly, but her art is telling a very different story. She knows exactly what she wants. She’s just afraid to go after it. Some way or another, I have to make her see that she can have everything she wants.

  “Whitney—”

  She holds the brush up to stop me, and if I didn’t think she w
as trying to end our relationship, I would have found the gesture funny. “I need to get through the next two weeks on my own. That’s what I need.”

  “But what do you want?” I ask.

  She tears up, and when she lowers her head and shakes it, tears dot the sidewalk. “It doesn’t matter right now. I have to do this on my own, Alex. Seeing you is too difficult. The desire to lean on you...” She raises her head again. “To be with you is too great.”

  Despite the brush she’s still holding between us, I grab her arms and kiss her. Her tears wet my cheeks as they fall. She kisses me back for exactly three seconds before she pulls away. Her eyes go to my shirt, which has a smear of green paint on it, not that I care in the least.

  “If you really care about me, please give me space. I can’t think clearly with you around, and I need to do this for me.”

  “Just please answer my question first. Tell me what you want, Whitney.” I have to hear her say it. Nothing else will get me through these next two weeks.

  “I want to be with you, Alex. I just can’t right now.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  She swallows hard and sniffles.

  “Finish your mural and your paintings for the art show. You know where I am. Call me when you’re ready.” I turn and walk away, and each step feels like a giant chasm that’s widening between us.

  Chapter Twenty

  Whitney

  With the mural for Mr. Ambrosi finished, I get back to painting pieces for the art show. Since the business owners in Priority loved my murals so much, I decided to cater several pieces to those same businesses in the hopes that the owners will purchase the artwork to display inside their respective businesses. I paint flowers for Bonnie’s Boutique, a weightlifter for Fitness World, and people enjoying great Italian dishes for Amor Amici. I even work on a few others, like a coffee shop scene and a gourmet sandwich for Tony’s sub shop.

  By Thursday, I’m happy with my progress, so I head to the local printing place on Front Street. Even though it’s lunchtime, I spot Elana coming out of Last Call. I cock my head as I approach her.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, noticing she’s not in her usual teaching attire.

  “I took a mental health day.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “That guy I’ve been seeing was supposed to take me into New York City today, but I sort of ended things with him last night.”

  “Oh no. What happened?” I thought things were going well between Elana and Marco.

  “I found out he was dating one of the bartenders at Maurice’s. Can you believe that? I mean, we didn’t exactly have the talk about being exclusive, but I’m positive he knew I wasn’t seeing anyone else. He could have at least had the decency to tell me. But instead, she showed up at Last Call, where we were having drinks last night. Apparently, Marco hadn’t mentioned me to her either. She threw his drink in his face.” She smiles. “Then I threw my drink in his face.”

  I place my hand on her arm. “Elana, I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s fine. He wasn’t that great in bed anyway.” She smirks. “I can do better.”

  “You definitely can.” I look over her shoulder at Last Call. “So what are you doing here now?”

  “I left in a hurry and forgot my jacket. Caleb called me last night to tell me.”

  “Why does Caleb have your phone number?” I ask her, knowing the bartender is engaged.

  “Relax. It’s nothing like that. I actually applied for the weekend bartending shift.”

  I had no idea she was looking for a weekend job. “What happened to that pretty blonde that was bartending on weekends? Lonnie?”

  “She’s working at Maurice’s now. Apparently, her best friend works there, and guess what? She’s the one Marco was seeing.”

  “Small world,” I say. “So, did you get the job?”

  “Caleb’s still interviewing, but I should hear soon.”

  That’s what I should be doing. Searching for jobs to make some money to pay my bills. Instead, I’m chasing this pipe dream.

  “Where are you off to?” Elana asks. “You’ve been holed up in your art room for days. I’m surprised you can stand being out in the sunlight.”

  I tap my sunglasses. The temperature is mild today for this late in October. “I’m heading to Prints Plus to make some flyers for the art show.”

  “You’re making your own flyers?” She widens her eyes. “Thank goodness you ran into me. Your artistic ability is amazing when it comes to paintbrushes, but your graphic design skills are seriously lacking.” She loops her arm through mine and walks with me.

  “I take it you’re going to help me design the flyers,” I say with a smile.

  “I can’t let your first show crash and burn because your flyers look like a preschooler made them.”

  “What would I do without you?”

  “Speaking of doing without, are you still avoiding Alex?”

  I look down at the sidewalk. “I’m not necessarily avoiding him. I’m really busy right now.” I reach for the door to Prints Plus and pull it open.

  Elana walks in first. “You’re going to the street fair though, right? You can’t miss that.”

  I can, and I have to. The possibility of running into Alex is too great. Plus I need the time to paint. But if I tell Elana that, she’ll spend the next hour or however long we’re here trying to convince me to go. “I’ll try to make it.”

  She narrows her eyes at me as we approach the computers they have set up in the corner of the store. Elana opens a graphic design program the store uses and selects one of the premade templates. “Okay, you fill in the information you want, and then I’ll make it look nice.” She steps aside so I can work.

  I quickly fill in the date, location, time, etc, and then step back to let her work her magic. In the meantime, I look around at the shoppers. Even though it’s the middle of a workday, happy couples seem to be everywhere. I really thought Alex and I could be like that. We seem to fit so well into each other’s lives. He’s still pretty new to Priority, and I don’t think his job has allowed him to make many friends. This separation is probably hitting him hard, considering how much time we spent together since meeting. I’ve been avoiding the For the Record site. If I read Alex’s articles, it will make me miss him even more. I have to put him out of my mind until this art show is over. Then I can revisit whether or not I should forgive him for interfering so much in my life. I know he cares, and he wants to help, but I can’t be with someone who tries to run my life for me.

  “Okay, you’re all set. Take a look and tell me if you want anything changed.” Elana steps aside so I can see the screen.

  “Where did you get pictures of my artwork?” I ask, noticing she somehow used one on the flyer.

  “While you were busy drooling over what could have been, I swiped your phone from your purse.”

  “I wasn’t drooling,” I say, holding my hand out for my phone.

  She rolls her eyes and places my phone on my palm. “Whatever. Why don’t you call him? We both know you want to.”

  “I have to focus on getting my life back on track right now.”

  “And you don’t see Alex in your life when that happens?” She crosses her arms, not buying a word I’m saying.

  “I do, but not the Alex that he was when he rented that space without even consulting me.”

  She holds her hands up in front of her. “Okay, fine. I know you’re all about woman power and independence, but don’t you think it was a little sweet how he went to such great lengths to try to make your dreams happen?”

  “It’s not his intentions I’m questioning. It’s his execution.” I put my phone back in my purse and send my flyer to the printer.

  “That’s it? End of discussion?” she asks.

  “Yup.” I walk toward the printer.

  She hurries after me. “Seriously? You know he’s perfect for you, right? I’ve never seen you jump into bed with a man that quickly.”

  I whirl around on her, an
d through gritted teeth, I say, “Can we not discuss the details of my love life in the middle of Prints Plus?”

  “Oh, please. Everyone in here is having sex with someone or wishes they were.”

  The elderly lady at the register nearby looks in our direction. “She’s not wrong, honey,” she says, smiling at me.

  Oh dear Lord!

  “Good for Granny,” Elana says. “I hope I’m that way at her age.”

  “Okay, stop. I really don’t want to have this conversation.” Why won’t these damn flyers print faster? I grab the stack that’s already in the tray and wave my hand at the machine, as if that will speed up the process.

  Elana thankfully drops the subject. For now at least. I’m sure she has plenty more to say on the topic and that it will come in due time. “Want me to help you hang those?” she asks when my printing job finishes.

  “No. Enjoy your day off. Do something fun.”

  “I was planning to, but the man I was seeing was sleeping with someone else, remember? At least you can be sure Alex isn’t doing that, even with you freezing him out.”

  “How do you know he’s not?” I ask, bringing my flyers to the register. “You don’t know him.”

  “I met him at the school, and I know what you’ve told me. He’s not the cheating or dating around type. Besides, I saw the way he looks at you. He barely even noticed me, and I’m gorgeous.” She elbows me and smiles to show she’s only joking. Truth be told, Elana is gorgeous. She tries to downplay her looks at work because who wants a bunch of horny teenage boys drooling as you try to teach them about proofs? She has those European cheekbones that make her round face stand out in a crowd. And her Czechoslovakian heritage gives her these piercing blue-gray eyes. You really can’t help but notice her.

  “Are you all set?” the cashier asks me.

  “Oh, sorry. Yeah, I was at printer number six,” I tell her so she can pull up my total.

  I have to charge my purchase since funds are so low. I hate having to pay the minimum balance on my credit card, but right now I don’t have the luxury of paying in full for anything. I’ve been living on Cheerios and plain pasta to save money.