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Heartfelt

Page 29

by Danielle Allen


  I should tell her—

  “Roman, this is dumb. This isn’t us,” Bianca broke in, interrupting my thoughts and breaking the tension in the room. She padded over to where I stood.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “I agree.”

  “Let’s just talk it out for a minute. You don’t want to do anything that will end up hurting me. I don’t want to do anything that will end up hurting you. So we’re at an impasse. What are our options?”

  “There’s only one option, B. I’m not letting Benjamin do this to you. I’m not.”

  Bianca narrowed her eyes at me. “There’s more than one option. You’re just not trying to do anything other than what you want to do.”

  I put my hands up in frustration. “And I want to do this for you.”

  Throwing her hands up for emphasis, she moved closer to me. “I don’t need you to save me, Ro. I need you to be my partner, not my savior.”

  “I love you. I want to protect you. How can you fault me for that?”

  Her head dropped back and she muttered, “For the love of God.”

  My eyes skimmed over her neck and the exposed area of her chest. Her skin was as soft as it looked and whenever her head was back like that, I liked to kiss the pulse point in her neck. I resisted the urge.

  “How can you be mad at me for wanting to protect you?”

  “You are not listening to me!” Her voice raised an octave as she snapped her head back up to glare at me. “We are supposed to be in this together. So we should handle this together.”

  I shrugged irritably. “It’s already been taken care of,” I barked back without thinking.

  She didn’t say anything, but I could almost feel the anger radiating from her skin. She was pissed. I wanted to look away from her, but I was unable to. I froze.

  Her eyes narrowed menacingly as if she were waiting for me to make a move or open my mouth to speak. She was glaring at me as if she were waiting for the opportunity to pounce. Her beautifully expressive face contorted in a way that was almost comical.

  Oh shit, here we go, I thought, fighting the impulse to look away from her.

  She put her hands on her hips. “It’s already been taken care of? Really Roman? Really?” Her icy tone was accentuated by her pursed lips.

  She is pissed. Why does she have to be so sexy when she’s mad?

  “What did you decide to do to handle this situation for us? What did you think was the best thing to do for us?”

  I didn’t know if she was legitimately asking or if it was rhetorical to prove a point. So I didn’t say anything. I felt like that was my safest bet.

  What does she not understand about this? I’m doing this for her. I told her from the beginning that I would never let anything happen to her. What the fuck is going on?

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m not trying to argue with you, B. This is my problem so I handled it the best way I could.”

  What don’t you get about that?

  When I opened my eyes, my thoughts faded away. She didn’t look pissed; she looked hurt. And the knowledge that I was hurting Bianca caused a crushing ache to fill my chest.

  I heard what she said last night. I know the reason she’s doing this is because she doesn’t want me to sacrifice my career for hers. I know she thinks I’ll resent her, but I won’t. She thinks I’ll stop loving her, but I won’t. Maybe if she understood that I can live without Charlotte Spence and her connections, but I can’t live without her, she’d understand my decision.

  Bianca blinked rapidly and I saw the moisture in her eyes. “How did you handle it?”

  “I woke up early and downloaded the forms from the state website. I filled them out and I made copies of the notes that I have. I didn’t know where your notes were. I made copies of the pictures and printed out the email. I called my lawyer and explained the situation. I faxed over the paperwork so he’d have a copy. And then I went to the police station to file a report. Then I called both Elizabeth and Charlotte on my way back here and I left messages. And now I am going to walk you to work because I don’t want you out there alone.”

  She was quiet for a beat before she uttered, “So just like that. You made a decision and then acted on it without talking to me or anything. You just got up and did all of that before nine o’clock in the morning, regardless of how I felt about it.”

  “Yes, I did. Because it needed to be done as soon as possible.”

  She shook her head slowly. All of the fight seemed to be draining out of her as her shoulders slumped. “You don’t get it,” she murmured.

  Taking her hands into mine, I brought them to my lips. “I do understand.”

  Removing her hands from mine, she rubbed her fingers into her eyes to stop the tears that had formed from dropping.

  I pulled her hands away from her wet eyes and cupped her face. She chewed on the corner of her lip and didn’t say anything.

  “Bianca, you don’t seem to understand.” I searched her face, feeling my heart falter as I took in her sad eyes. “If I have to choose between working with Charlotte Spence and being with you, I choose you.”

  She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes again. “You’re going to resent me.”

  “I’m not going to resent you. How could I resent you? This is my problem that you got dragged into. But more than that, I could find another Charlotte Spence—”

  “There’s only one Charlotte Spence,” Bianca interjected, her voice small. She blinked back tears.

  “I could find a bootlegged Charlotte Spence,” I amended with a smirk. “But I found the love of my life and there’s only one Bianca Baker. And since I only want Bianca Baker, there’s no contest because I can find another representative, but I can’t find another you. I love you. I choose you. And that means that I won’t let anyone tear you down and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Her lip trembled and a tear trickled down her cheek. I caught it on my thumb and rubbed it into her soft skin.

  She blinked rapidly, her long eyelashes fluttering. “You say that now, but later on...”

  “Later on, I’ll still be desperately in love with you.”

  Bianca wiped her face and let out several trembling breaths. “I don’t want to be the reason you aren’t doing the things that you’re capable of. I love you too much and now that you’ve already put this plan in motion, I feel like I’ll always be waiting for you to throw it in my face and leave. Or to throw in the towel on us. I don’t want to live like that. I don’t want to anticipate your resentment. I don’t want you to use this as a reason to go back to how you used to be. If we broke up for any reason, I’d be devastated. But if we broke up because of this…” Her voice trailed off and she shook her head.

  Just hearing her voice thick with emotion broke me. My own feelings were bubbling up and getting the best of me. My gut twisted and my heart drummed loudly, echoing in my ears. Looking at her bleary eyes made my own water.

  Pulling her face within an inch of mine, I let my lips hover over hers. “Marry me.”

  ----------

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Bianca’s eyes widened. “What?” She moved back fractionally, clutching her towel around the top. “What did you say?”

  What did I do?

  I swallowed thickly and couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as she looked at me, into me, reading me like a book.

  “I, um,” I stumbled over my words.

  The shrill ring of my phone startled me and I jerked back from her. I ripped my eyes away from her to dig my phone out of my pocket.

  “I need to take this,” I explained. “You should get ready for work. You’re going to be late.”

  Bianca backed away from me, still staring at me with wide eyes. With one last fleeting glance, she turned on her heel and scurried to our bedroom.

  “Hello?” I answered, walking to the couch to sit down.

  “Roman, I just listened to your message!” Elizabeth exclaimed weepily. “What is going on?”
/>   I spent the next ten minutes explaining to Elizabeth what happened with Benjamin. I tried to keep my cool since I didn’t want to upset her.

  “I’ve filed charges against him. My lawyers are working up an order of protection to keep him away from Bianca. I’m doing everything I can to keep my cool. But if I see him, I will hurt him.”

  “I’m so sorry, darling. I thought he was in the treatment facility. I thought he was getting the help he needed.” She started crying. “I don’t know what to do with him. He’s been angry for so long. I think William dying soon after his own heart complication took place pushed him over the edge.”

  “Perhaps.”

  That asshole is crazy. Period.

  “Is there anything you need from me? You need me to talk to your lawyer or anything? I called you yesterday to tell you that I will be in New York on Saturday. I can come sooner if you need me to.”

  “I’m not going to ask you to get in the middle of this. I appreciate it though.”

  “Roman, you’re my son, too. You’re my first born and he is my baby. I hate the friction that has been between the two of you. But I can’t stand idly by and watch this go on any longer. Right is right and wrong is wrong. Send me your lawyer’s information.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  We spoke for a few more minutes before ending the conversation.

  I texted Elizabeth the name, phone number and email address of my lawyer and then I tossed my phone to the other side of the couch. With my elbows on my thighs, I dropped my head into my hands.

  I asked Bianca to marry me. Oh my God, what did I do? She’s probably freaking the fuck out. If I didn’t have to deal with Benjamin’s crazy ass, I’d be freaking out too. We’ve been together for two months. What am I doing? It’s like I can’t control myself when I’m around her.

  My phone rung and I picked it up on the first ring.

  “Good morning, Charlotte,” I answered.

  “Good morning, Roman. I listened to your message twice and I’m not sure I understand. Your brother is stalking you and Bianca and is plotting to release slanderous material about the two of you. And you’re pursuing legal action. Am I following?”

  It’s so much more than that, but that’s all I could fit on the voice mail.

  “Yes. But—”

  “Let me stop you right there. Did you reschedule your interview with the journalist?”

  “Not yet. I’ve been dealing with this.”

  Charlotte’s cool, unimpressed voice sighed. “So the first major art biography about you will likely be some sordid tale your brother is trying to shop around about you?”

  Shit, I didn’t think about it like that.

  I didn’t respond.

  “Roman, it makes my job difficult when I have to sell people ‘despite.’ Despite the police involvement. Despite the drug addiction. Despite the alcoholism. Despite the involvement with the mob or gang. I’ve had and dropped clients for less because I couldn’t market them. Their issues became bigger than their art.”

  “I understand completely. I did what I could to try to reason with him, but he’s got it out for me.”

  “I believe that you did everything you could. I do. That isn’t my issue. My issue is that your formal introduction into the New York art scene will be a blip in a gossip rag and not a respectable article in a reputable magazine or newspaper. A first impression is very difficult to shake. Your first show in New York went really well so that should soften the blow, but the reach with the article would’ve been massive. If that would’ve come out first, then your brother’s claims would look like a jealous sibling throwing a tantrum. Now it’ll look like you are going on the defense because his claims are the truth.”

  “No! I mean, I get that. But there has to be another way.”

  Charlotte paused for an exceptionally long time and then spoke again. “I will need to look at some things and see what can be done. Please send over all of the details of this situation with your brother. Police reports and any helpful details will suffice. I can’t make any promises, Roman. You’re a talent, but issues with the law affect your marketability. Although your credibility in the street may increase in value, your credibility with clients of the caliber to which your paintings are priced will decrease.”

  “I understand.”

  The conversation ended and I remained with my head in my hands. Even though I knew my relationship with Charlotte Spence would change as I went to the police station, the disappointment felt like a weight resting on my chest.

  Hearing the sound of heels against the hardwood floor, I looked up. Wearing brown heeled boots with a cream sweater dress, my mouth opened and then closed.

  Even completely covered up, she’s sexy.

  My eyes followed her as she made her way into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee.

  “You look great,” I said, still looking at her in awe.

  “Thank you.”

  I stood up and pulled on a hoodie. Double checking to make sure I had my keys and my wallet, I waited for her by the door. I was going to walk her to work and then go to the studio until she got off.

  Bianca grabbed her burgundy jacket and slipped it on. I helped her adjust the collar. We moved around in silence.

  I didn’t know what she was thinking, but I was hoping the floor would open up and swallow me.

  “Roman, were you just on the phone with Charlotte Sp—”

  “Can we not talk about that right now?” I asked, cutting her off. I opened the door and waited for her to walk out.

  “Then let’s talk about what you said?”

  “Not now, Bianca.”

  She gave me a look and I couldn’t read her expression. “You want to pretend that it never happened?”

  “Yes.”

  Well, no, not exactly. I just don’t want to talk about it.

  Her lips pulled downward into a frown and she nodded.

  The elevator ride was silent. As we were crossing the marble floors of the lobby, Bianca glanced over her shoulder at me. “Since I’m so late, maybe I should just take a taxi.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I agreed.

  Once we were outside and she hailed one, she looked surprised that I got in the taxi with her. Intertwining my hands with hers, I try to gauge her mood.

  Is she still mad that I went to the police? Is she mad that I may have kind of asked her to marry me? Is she just in a bad mood? Am I reading too much into this?

  “Who does that?” Bianca burst out as we turned on the street of Pho Gallery.

  “Who does what?” I asked, shifting in my seat.

  She scoffed. “Who asks someone to marry them just to stop an argument? And then who takes it back twenty minutes later?”

  Bianca patted her damp hair before she prepared to get out of the car. Her curls were wild and loose.

  The taxi slowed to a stop before I could respond to either of her questions and she opened the door. After leaning over to plant a chaste kiss against my lips, she slid out of the backseat. “Have a good day, Roman.”

  Hearing the tone in which she said my name, I knew I had fucked up. But what I did specifically, I didn’t know.

  Maybe she’s mad at everything.

  The taxi started to pull off when Bianca turned around.

  “Stop!” I demanded loudly, causing the taxi driver to slam on breaks. “Please.”

  Bianca ran back over to the car and opened the door. “I love you.”

  I felt the smile playing on the corners of my lips. “I love you, too.”

  She turned on her heel and made her way back to the gallery. Once she was safely inside, I gave the driver the address to my studio.

  Opening the door to my art space, I breathed in the calming scent of paint and solvent. It still wasn’t strong enough to overwhelm me, but it was there. That scent reminded me of how fortunate I was to do what I loved every single day.

  I took off my hoodie and got started on the next phase of my cu
rrent project. I spent hours working with the polymer clay and perfecting their design and painting them. I set them in front of fans to help expedite the drying process.

  Feeling the effects of working nonstop for hours, I rotated my head around my neck and shook out my hands. It was then that I realized that I was starving.

  When was the last time I ate? Shit it’s already two o’clock. B probably already ate. Let me call her.

  Turning the thumping music off, I picked up my cell phone and called her. No answer.

  She’s at work. She could be doing a tour. She could be meeting with Nina. She could be on the phone.

  I shook the chill off of me and marched over to the shower. Turning the water on, I stripped out of my clothes and hopped in. The hot water burned my skin and kept my mind from wandering.

  Once I was freshly washed and dressed, I picked up the phone and called Bianca again. No answer.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

  Something is not right.

  With my keys clutched in my hands, I rushed out of the studio. Waving down a taxi, I hopped in and as calmly as possible, gave her the address to Pho Gallery. When we turned on the street, I saw flashing blue lights blocking off part of the road.

  “Here, keep the change,” I verbalized distractedly.

  I got out of the car and got as close to Pho Gallery as possible when a police officer stopped me.

  “Sir, you can’t go past here. We’re in the middle of an investigation.” His authoritative tone did not sound as though he was going to make an exception for me.

  But I had to try anyway.

  “My girlfriend works in Pho Gallery. Can you at least tell me which building you’re in?”

  “The one in the middle, with the big windows. Now get back.”

  Fuck!

  The one in the middle with the big windows was Pho Gallery. As a round of obscenities flew through my head, I pulled out my phone. My hand shook as I pressed the button for Bianca’s work phone number.

  It rang and no answer.

  Scrubbing my face with my hands, I looked for someone who looked like they would be in charge. I needed answers and the cop assigned to sidewalk duty wasn’t giving me any.

 

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