“No, no. Absolutely not.” I crossed the room and grabbed her. I was so fast that she didn’t have a chance to stop me. Cradling her head with my hands, I held her close to me. Bringing my forehead to hers, I finished, “I barely said hi and then I went looking for Ashton. That’s it. You’re my world, B. I don’t want anyone else. I only want you. I need you. And I wouldn’t lie to you.”
The tears that had been threatening to fall finally fell to her cheeks and then slipped under the pad of my thumb. I ran my thumbs over her slippery skin, hoping to put an end to whatever was going on in her head.
I felt her body twist and contort before she pulled out her phone. Without taking her eyes off of me, she unlocked her phone. Looking down briefly, she clicked something and then turned her phone to me.
My entire body stiffened as the sharp intake of air I swallowed echoed in the silence of the house. My hands, still cradling Bianca’s face, became rigid.
It was a picture of me and Copeland.
Copeland was staring up at me, touching me. She was smiling.
I knew it was from the embarrassment of stumbling, but it appeared as if she was smiling like that at me.
I had one hand on her back and the other on her arm, steadying her.
But it appeared as if we were hugging.
I was helping!
I barely remembered the moment that it happened, but I remembered that it was a brief moment in time. It was enough time for me to make sure Copeland didn’t fall on her face, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. Yet somehow, in the picture, it appeared to be a lot more than what it was.
That kid with the headphones! This was when Copeland was bumped by that kid with the headphones and I kept her from falling. Ashton somehow caught the two seconds that we interacted and made it seem like something that it wasn’t. That son of a bitch! This is bullshit!
I stared at the picture and I felt my head shaking before words could come out of my mouth. “No.”
Bianca’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean ‘no’? That’s you, Ro.”
“Yes, it’s me. But it’s not what it looks like. It’s not what it seems.”
She gave me a baffled look. “You said you didn’t spend any time with her and that you two barely said hello. But after I sent Ashton an email telling him that there’s no reason for him to email me about Copeland or anything else because I’m with you, he sends me this picture of you and Copeland. Together.” She closed her eyes.
Holding her face tighter, I brought my forehead to hers. “B, look at me,” I demanded calmly.
When she opened her brown eyes, they fluttered. I searched her eyes begging her silently to believe me. Panic rose through my body making my heart race and my breathing unsteady, but I spoke slowly. “It’s not what it looks like. That must have been taken at the exact moment I prevented Copeland from tripping and falling because we had a one minute conversation and the only time we touched was when I stopped her from falling. The only other time I saw her was when I was walking to that bar to meet Malik and Courtney. She was at a restaurant with Ashton. I’m telling the truth Bianca. Please.”
She held my gaze for a while before she begrudgingly said, “Okay.”
I kissed her lightly. “I’m sorry this happened. I never want anything to make you doubt me or my love for you, B.”
I will end Ashton for this. He went too far. Way too far.
The silence that followed was seconds long, but it felt like minutes. As I waited for her to say something, anything, I didn’t let the anxiety that I felt show. At least I hoped I didn’t. I needed to be strong for her. I needed her to know that we were strong.
“I believe you.”
I closed my eyes and let my head drop backward. A sigh of relief escaped my lips.
Thank God.
“I believe you and I believe that it’s not what it seems,” Bianca continued softly. “But I don’t like this. I don’t like feeling like this.” Holding her phone up again so that the photo was showing, she shook her head.
“You are the only one for me so I hope you’re not jealous—”
Bianca sneered and cut me off. “Stop.” Shaking her head and creating space between us, she looked up at me. “I’m not jealous. I’m not going to lie…seeing you like this with another woman drives me crazy. But my main issue is the lack of trust. I don’t like feeling like you do not trust me with the whole truth.”
“I do,” I argued automatically, grabbing her hand.
“You leave stuff out that I should know. When you think I can’t handle it or when you want to handle it on your own, you selectively tell me information. Like with Meredith showing back up and you getting the box with the note and your thing with Copeland. You think you’re protecting me, but really, you’re doing more harm than good. You have to trust me. For us to work, we have to be completely honest with each other. No more secrets.”
She’s right.
“I’m sorry.” I pulled her into a hug. “I just don’t want the bullshit that continues to follow me to taint you.”
Or your opinion of me.
“You’re the best part of my life,” I continued. “I just want to keep you away from any and all unnecessary bullshit from my past.”
“The stuff from your past that comes up and affects our future is necessary information. I love you. All of you. Past and present.” She pressed her lips against mine before she whispered, “So stop fucking up.”
“Done.” I laughed. Smoothing her wild curls down, I stared at the beautiful woman in front of me. “Now, let’s get breakfast.”
After a shower and getting dressed, Bianca and I met up with Malik and Brad in the lobby. We walked to a nearby restaurant for breakfast. Once the stacks of pancakes, strips of bacon, and various forms of eggs were placed on the table, the conversation turned to Bianca’s job.
“So how’s everything going with work, B?” Malik asked, pouring maple syrup over a stack of pancakes.
I was chewing a mouthful of omelet and didn’t swallow in enough time to signal to Malik to change the subject.
“Well,” Bianca huffed, pursing her lips. “Someone is being ridiculous and ruining my credibility at work.”
“What?” Both Brad and Malik exclaimed, looking between me and her.
I nodded, explaining to them a brief version of what had been going on over the last couple of weeks.
“So you don’t know who it is?” Malik’s face was scrunched up in confusion. “Why does this shit keep happening?”
“I thought after Meredith, we’d be done with the stalkers for this year,” Brad added, bringing his fist down hard on the table.
My glass of orange juice sloshed around. I looked around and a few of the people at the table next to us looked at us with interest.
“As did I,” I said, taking a sip of my juice. “But this time is different. Meredith was trying to flirt with me and all of her messages, no matter how convoluted, wanted me to find out her identity. This is something else.”
Bianca put her fork down and looked around the table. “It feels like they are warning me.”
“Who would do something like this to you? What would they be warning you about?” Brad asked forcefully, running his hands through his blonde hair. “This makes no sense!”
“Ashton,” I spat. Just thinking about him and what he was trying to do to my relationship fueled my anger. “Ashton wants Bianca and he’s resorted to this because she’s with me.”
“But you set him straight when you were back home the other day. He really thinks it’s a good idea to go up against us?” Brad asked, gritting his teeth. “I thought after you threatened him in his classroom, he wouldn’t try anything stupid again.”
“You would think.” I slapped Brad’s shoulder in appreciation, giving him a nod. Looking at Bianca across the table from me, my heart ached. “But I understand why it’s hard for him to let go. That’s why I left him with a warning. But he’s gone too far.”
A
lways the voice of reason, Malik rubbed his hands together before bringing them in front of his mouth. We all waited for him to say something because we knew it was coming. “So we know for sure it’s Ashton?”
“Yes,” I declared without hesitation.
“No,” Bianca pronounced at the exact same time. She pursed her lips at me and I relented.
Scrubbing my face with my hands, I exhaled in frustration. “Okay, no, we don’t know definitively that it is Ashton, but all signs point to him. B sent him an email to tell him to leave her alone and this motherf—”
“How’s your meal?” the waitress interrupted, halting our conversation.
Glancing up, I tried to smile and nod. I was too pissed to respond with words. Looking across the table at Bianca, her eyes gently pulled me back from the ledge. With just a look, she calmed me down and filled me with something I’d only felt in her presence.
I love you and I won’t let anything happen to you, I promised her silently as I let the anger wane.
“So what happened?” Brad questioned loudly.
My eyes snapped to him as he looked at me expectantly. “B sent him an email to let him know he has no chance with her and he sent her a bullshit picture.”
Malik stroked his chin. “Picture of what?”
I looked at Bianca, debating on how to answer the question.
Bianca held my gaze as she said, “A picture of Roman and Copeland Jenner.” Her voice didn’t give anything away.
“She was bumped and fell in my direction. I caught her and then continued on my way to Ashton’s classroom. He cropped the photo so it didn’t look like we were in a crowded hallway and sent it to Bianca.”
“Shit…that’s crazy.” Brad ran his hand through his hair again.
Malik nodded. “Crazy, but smart.”
“What?”
Did he just say smart?
“Smart?” Bianca spoke up at the same time.
“As much as I hate to admit it, Ashton played that perfectly,” Malik acknowledged, finishing off his cup of juice.
Bianca’s eyes bulged. “Please explain.”
I looked around the table, but the others seemed just as perplexed.
“He took that picture at the school and he could’ve sent it to Bianca anytime. But he didn’t. He waited. He plotted on it. He probably found out about what happened in college with you and Copeland when he took her to dinner. Then when he felt like he had an opening, he jumped. What did your letter say, B? Something about how you were with Roman and you weren’t breaking up with him for anyone?” Once Bianca nodded, he continued, “He was waiting for Bianca to acknowledge him, when she did with the email, he went for it. That’s smart. But it’s also desperate. All of his cards are on the table now. That was his trump card and he used it already.”
The noise of the restaurant flitted around us as we thought about what Malik said.
“That’s why I think it was Meredith and not Ashton,” Bianca offered.
“What?” It was Malik’s turn to look surprised.
After filling them in on Meredith’s most recent pop up at my house, we were split in half. Brad and I thought Ashton was the one stalking Bianca at work while Malik and Bianca thought it was Meredith.
“Meredith has proven herself to be crazy,” Bianca argued, looking around the table and then fixating her eyes on me. “And she said that I’m the only way to get your attention. Since she thinks that you’re preventing her from getting that letter from Monroe, she’s going after me and my job to get your attention. And also because she’s pissed we’re together.”
“I get that,” Brad interjected, dragging her attention away from me. “But in Ashton’s twisted mind, Roman stole you away from him. He’s retaliating. You just said he sent you that ‘if you stop, I’ll stop’ card. He’s clearly talking about he’ll stop harassing you if you stop dating Roman.”
I nodded in agreement.
“But if Ashton wants B, he wouldn’t threaten her job. Meredith on the other hand doesn’t give a damn about her employment status,” Malik pointed out. “Ashton isn’t trying to ruin B’s life. He’s trying to win her back. Meredith…” He shrugged slowly with his eyebrows raised.
“B’s not going to lose her job over this bullshit. I refuse to let that happen. I sent Monroe an email asking her to write the reference letter for Meredith. If it’s Meredith, that letter will stop it from continuing. If it’s Ashton, I’ll have to pay him a visit. He may need a little more convincing to stop.”
The table fell quiet as they looked at each other and then at me.
Concern was etched over Bianca’s face as she chewed the corner of her mouth. “Ro, I don’t want you to fight,” she revealed in a hushed tone.
I’ve never been a violent guy. I’d rather take things out on my canvas than to fight. I had only been involved in a couple of fights in my life and I didn’t like the out of control feeling it brought out of me. On the canvas, when I lost control, I created something beautiful. In a fight, when I lost control, it was an ugly, bloody mess.
I need some studio time as soon as possible, I thought, my hands curling into fists under the table.
I gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m not looking to fight him. I just think he may need to be convinced to stop harassing you in person.”
“What if it isn’t him? What if it’s Meredith’s crazy ass? What then?” Bianca questioned, using her hands for emphasis.
Malik leaned forward, elbows on the table. His face looked thoughtful as he posed the question, “Or what if it’s not either one of them?”
“Who else could it be?” Brad asked before I had a chance to open my mouth to respond.
Malik looked around the table. “It’s hard to pinpoint what the issue is and with the messages being typed and hand delivered, I can’t trace the IP address or do a reverse look up with a phone number. This person is doing a better job covering their tracks.” He paused and nodded as if he felt confident in his next statement. “Maybe Meredith learned from getting caught the first time. Or maybe Ashton is almost as smart as he pretends to be. But what if it’s someone else entirely. What if it’s Monroe?”
I felt my eyes stretch as they flew open. “What? Monroe?”
“Hear me out. Monroe has gotten steady business since you signed with Charlotte Spence. She’s been renting out the space every week for different events. With you gone, that may or may not change. But I’m sure she’d rather have you stay because that’s guaranteed money.” Malik turned his head to face Bianca. “And you are the reason he’s moving to New York. If you don’t have a job in New York, theoretically, you could move back to Richmond and Roman wouldn’t have to move.”
“No, not Monroe. That’s crazy,” I argued, shaking my head.
I looked over at Bianca and Brad and they looked contemplative.
Bianca nodded. “That makes a lot of sense.”
I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. “Monroe?”
“Malik should be a damn detective,” Brad announced loudly, slapping hands with Malik over the table.
What Malik is saying is crazy because Monroe wouldn’t do some shit like that. Right?
----------
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You’ve never been late before Mr. Harper. I’m beginning to think the move to New York was not good for you,” Charlotte Spence said in a way that I didn’t know if she was joking or if she was reprimanding me.
A short nervous laugh rumbled out of my chest. “I apologize, Charlotte. I had to take my best friends to the airport. They drove the moving truck up here to help me move and then they flew back.”
I knew I didn’t have time to ride to the airport with them, I grumbled to myself silently. Today is going to be thrown off.
Between Monday morning traffic and laughing and joking with Brad and Malik, I was running ten minutes late to the meeting with Charlotte. Even though she was looking at me with the cold, vague gaze she’d become known for, I was glad that I had spen
t the last couple of hours with my best friends. Even when I shut them out, they were always there when I needed them.
“I understand, Roman.” She smoothed her hair down and sat back in her leather desk chair. “But just this once.”
“Understood.”
And I did. Her voice let me know that next time she would not take it easy on me.
“So, let’s talk business. How is everything coming along? Are you settling into the new studio?”
“Well I haven’t started working in there yet, but I have everything set up. All of my supplies and canvases moved in. It’s bigger than my old space.”
“Yes, it is. It was a warehouse and a company purchased it to make small apartment buildings; however, they ran out of money and it was foreclosed on. A friend of mine purchased it and leases the spaces so some of your neighbors live there, while some just work there.”
Ahh…that explains it.
“I like it a lot. Thank you for finding it for me.”
My new studio had a full kitchen, a full bathroom, and a wide open space for me to work. It looked like a large efficiency apartment.
“I’m glad it is to your liking. The quicker you have a place that you feel comfortable in, the quicker you will get back to your craft.” She stood and immediately left her office. “Follow me.”
I followed her out of her office to the main foyer. The sound of her receptionist on the phone competed with the soft jazz music that hummed through the small office. Grabbing a note off of the receptionist’s desk, Charlotte led me through the double doors to her gallery.
Turning on the lights, the medium sized gallery came to life. She had a piece from all of her clients arranged in a way that made sense. Each time she updated a piece, she rearranged the entire collection.
“Roman, do you see where you are located?”
My eyes moved around until it landed on one of the pieces I sent to her before she agreed to be my representative. Although I knew she had that one, I didn’t realize she had it hanging in her gallery.
Especially between the work of Isabella Picocoli and Marcus Reynolds.
“Yes.” I pointed at it. Dropping my hands to my sides, I stared at my work in fascination. “That seems like so long ago.”
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