by Fine, L. J.
His words moved through her in giddy electrical tingles and she couldn't keep the smile from her face. His opinion meant more to her than all these people combined and, in that moment, for just that brief time, she felt whole. Happier than she could ever remember being. It didn't matter what the results of the auction were, this feeling right here trumped it all.
Turning slightly in his arms, she pressed a kiss to his cheek then raised her glass to him. "It is pretty fabulous, isn't it?"
Dark eyes glittered as he brought their glasses together with a clink. "Fuckin' A, it is."
As the bubbly liquid fizzed in her mouth and down her throat, a familiar and unpleasant voice hit her ears. The words turned that popping fizz into something tasteless as, for a few moments, Marie let them get to her before she could put her protective walls back in place.
"It's nice and has a good use of color but, God, what an inane study in monotony. This kind of thing has been done so many times before. But considering who the artist is, she really did try her best."
Of course, that would be Nicole's takeaway. Unless it concerned herself, the woman had no clue how to pay a complement. Marie turned her head to find the other woman standing near her painting, the diamond pins holding her raven hair in a complicated updo twinkled in the light with her movements. The tall, blond man she spoke to, one of her hangers-on, no doubt, nodded enthusiastically, stuck on her every word.
"Ignore her," Adam said and, with one arm around her waist, began pulling her down the hall with him in the opposite direction. Her stiff muscles eased up as they walked, making her aware of the fact that she'd tensed up in the first place. "She's just pissed because nobody is paying attention to her. Let's go take a look around, shall we?"
Taking a deep breath, she let the air fill her lungs to capacity and, as she slowly blew it back out, the last of her tension went with it. Smiling at him, she said, "Yes, let's."
They walked around the gallery, mingling with various people she had known for years and perusing the creations of her fellow artists. Close to forty-five minutes later, they were seated in a large room filled with foldout chairs and paddles on their laps as the auction started. Each piece in the showcase was presented, and she watched as each piece was subsequently sold. So far, the highest bid of the night was around three thousand dollars. Pretty typical of this event. On the whole, the process could be boring, but occasionally, a bidding war broke out and things got interesting for a few moments. The only time she felt any real excitement, though, was when her piece was up to be auctioned off, like now. More like nervous energy, really. Her heart beat a little faster and her mouth went dry when she saw them carrying her painting onto the stage.
"And here we have lot forty-seven, a painting entitled, The Magic Well by Marie O'Shea," the auctioneer began, reading from his index cards all about the piece in question. It was the brief description she'd written and handed in along with the painting when she'd dropped it off earlier in the week. She knew the words by heart and barely listened as the man spoke. All she could focus on was her piece, viewing it for the millionth time through the critical eye of an artist. Not that she could make any changes to it now if she wanted to. Once she'd handed it in, she'd had to let go.
A warm, rough hand covered hers, pulling her fingers away from the white-knuckled grip of her other hand. She turned to give Adam a small smile as his fingers threaded through hers. Bringing their joined hands up to his mouth, he placed a tender kiss on her skin and settled them back down into his lap. His dark eyes remained fixed on hers, and everything she'd been thinking about before he came to pick her up tonight roared to the surface. God, how she loved this man. It was true, and she couldn't help it. She didn't think she had ever felt this connected to another human being before. Somehow, he'd gotten under her skin, became the fire in her veins, and she had zero desire to make any of it stop.
"Let's start the bidding at a modest five hundred," the auctioneer continued, jolting her attention back to the stage. And so, it went.
Numerous paddles shot up into the air at that first bid, more than any for her previous work. The bidding progressed, and some of the paddles dropped out as the price went up. It got up to a little over the four thousand mark, and a giddy excitement flushed through her to see that two people remained in a bidding war for her piece. A middle-aged woman squared off against a younger man. The look of determination on the woman's face clearly intimidated the man, because he looked as though he was about to drop out of the running.
"Do I hear four thousand five hundred?" The auctioneer queried.
The woman raised her paddle and then raised a white-blonde, perfectly sculpted eyebrow at the man. A resigned grimace went along with the man's ruddy face, and he subtly shook his head. Satisfied smile in place, the woman preened and settled back into her chair.
Holy shit, four thousand five hundred! It was a rare occasion any of the pieces went for that much, let alone her piece and Marie couldn't keep the grin off of her face.
"Five thousand!" The shout came out of nowhere and surprised everyone in the room. Even more surprising was the fact that the sound originated from the spot directly beside her. Adam's spot.
Marie felt her jaw drop as she gaped at him for a split second before she gathered her wits to hiss at him. "What the hell are you doing?"
Keeping his eyes on the woman with whom he had now entered a bidding war, he spoke to Marie out of the side of his mouth. "I was waiting for those two to get it out of their systems before I made my move. I don't think she'll go higher than five thousand."
"Adam...what..." she sputtered but he had no more attention to spare her. His eyes remained focused on the woman who's back went ramrod stiff when he shouted. Now, with pursed lips and a severe scowl on her face, she shook her head and turned to stare at the wall in front of her.
The auctioneer, having seen this subtle exchange, did the going once, going twice routine before he smacked his gavel. "Sold for five thousand to the gentleman in the back. Congratulations, sir."
Applause filled the room as Adam sat back into his chair, the satisfied smile now on his face as the victor. The auction continued, but Marie didn't hear any of it. Instead, she jabbed him in the side with her elbow. He inclined his head to her but otherwise gave no reaction.
"Why did you do that?" She said low enough that only he could hear.
He winked at her. "Because I wanted to."
"That's not a good reason," she said a little louder this time, uncaring of where they were, just wanting an explanation.
The older man in front of them turned around to give her a disapproving look, and Adam chuckled low in his throat.
"Don't worry, we'll be quiet," he said to the man before bringing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. When she didn't kiss him back, he murmured against her lips. "We can talk about this later."
Pulling away from him, she affixed her gaze to the front, refusing to look at him. He threaded his fingers through hers and brought their hands to rest on his lap once again, and she let him. She didn't know whether to be flattered by what he had just done or pissed off. The thoughts kept bouncing back and forth in her mind and she stewed until the end of the auction.
Once the final piece was settled, the winners were called to the back to pay out and schedule a time to pick up their winnings. A few of the local artists who participated in the auction approached Marie to congratulate her on winning their silent contest as she stood near the door of the ballroom, waiting for Adam. She thanked them with a tightlipped smile, feeling a little like a fraud. Did it count if the reason she won was because her boyfriend engineered it that way?
She took the praise with a grain of salt and made polite conversation. Almost right as they left, a waiter floated by and she snagged another flute of champagne from his tray. As she brought the glass to her lips, she felt someone sidle up next to her. She turned, expecting Adam, but felt her stomach bottom out to see Nicole.
"I think it's really sweet what he
did for you," Nicole said, a mocking smile curving her lips.
Marie turned to fully face her and plastered on a fake smile of her own. "Who did what, now?"
Nicole laughed, a sound that should be pleasant but somehow came across as condescending and snarky. "Oh, come on. What Adam did. I know that you two have been sleeping together and I think it was really sweet of him to bid so high on your painting, you know, to boost your self-esteem a bit."
Clucking her tongue, Marie shook her head and smiled. "You know, the bid was pretty damn high before he even made a move on it. Higher than the highest bid in the previous years I've seen since I started participating in this auction. So, Adam must have wanted it bad to go that high for it. How did your piece do? It was that little sculpture thing of the courthouse, wasn't it? It was on and off the auction block so quickly, I don't really remember it."
Even though Nicole's words echoed the thoughts Marie had been having since Adam opened his big mouth earlier, it would be a cold day in hell before Marie gave this bitch the satisfaction. In fact, she kind of enjoyed the way Nicole's face turned such an interesting shade of red in her fury. Well, she enjoyed it for as long as it lasted, anyway.
"This is the first year I have ever seen Adam at one of these auctions," Nicole said, choosing to bypass talking about her own piece, Marie noted. "I could never get him to come to one when we were sleeping together. Admittedly, he knows nothing about good art, so it was probably better he stayed home. Otherwise he might have wasted even more money than he did tonight."
Despite herself, Marie couldn't keep the shock off her face and unfortunately, Nicole noticed. She affected a feigned look of concern as she placed a hand on Marie's arm. "He did tell you about us, didn't he?"
No. He did not. Nicole made it seem as though there had been an "us" to talk about. As though their tryst had meant more to Adam than most of his conquests. Was Nicole telling the truth, or was she only trying to get under Marie's skin? Either way, knowing the history between herself and Nicole, why hadn't Adam told her?
Shaking herself, Marie got her shit together and spoke. "Maybe he enjoys my company better than he enjoyed yours. Well, I mean obviously, right? Or else he'd be here with you."
Nicole snorted, her next words giving up the game that she and Adam had ever been serious. "Oh, honey. That man enjoys the company of anyone with ovaries. I hope you didn't think that you were special. He'll move on eventually. Maybe I'll let him give me a repeat performance, who knows? He always did know exactly what he was doing in bed."
Rage boiled through her veins, but to her credit, Marie didn't let it show this time. "Hmmm...I don't know. I think he likes to move up to better things each time he moves on, so you're probably out of luck. Sorry. And I see him coming this way, so I've got to go. It was lovely getting to catch up with you. Better luck next year on your piece."
And with that Marie walked away without giving Nicole a chance to respond, weaving through the crowd until she met up with Adam in the middle. The smile he'd been wearing died on his face as he took her in.
"What happened?"
"Oh, there's a whole hurricane of bullshit going on right now. Are you ready to leave?" She asked setting her champagne flute on an empty high table.
Dark eyes danced between hers for a few heartbeats before he nodded. "Yeah, let's go."
Unlike when they came in, he didn't place his hand at the small of her back, or anywhere on her, for that matter, seeming to sense that it wasn't welcome. Instead, he followed her as she wove her way through the crowd, making hasty goodbyes to people along the way as they exited the building. When they got to his car, he held the passenger door open for her before heading over to his side. Neither of them spoke until he got the car on the road heading back to their apartment building.
"All right spill it. What's wrong with you?" He asked glancing over at her before he switched lanes.
She turned in her seat to look at him. "What the hell was that back there? You didn't need to bid on my painting. It was going well before you got involved. It was unnecessary."
"What was unnecessary?"
Her eyes narrowed. "You know damn well what you did. I don't need your charity."
The muscle in his jaw ticked and he shot her a dark look. "What kind of fucked up thing is it that you think I did? Because I'll tell you right now, baby, I have no clue what you're talking about. You're gonna have to spell it out for me."
Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Driving up the bid on my painting. It was already selling well above the average bid, and I would have won our silent contest this year. What you did completely undermined how much the painting was actually worth."
"I don't understand." He shook his head. "You had already won the contest before I bid on it. So, what's the problem?"
"The problem is that now people think the only reason it went for so much is because you and I are sleeping together, and you did me a favor."
He snorted, and she threw daggers at him with her eyes. "I'm sorry, baby, but who? What could you have possibly gained by me bidding on it after you already won? I purposely didn't bid on it until it was almost sold because I didn't want it to look that way. Whoever thinks otherwise is a moron."
"You didn't think she was such a moron when you were sleeping with her." It was kind of a cheap shot and she knew it. Who he slept with before they got involved was none of her business. But she was feeling volatile right now and the whole thing, all of it, pissed her off. She couldn't keep it in.
Confusion narrowed his eyes, but he kept them on the road. "Who?"
"Nicole, damn it. I realize that you don't owe me a list of the women you've previously slept with, and I'm sure it would be too long to write out anyway. But a heads up about that particular fuck buddy would have been nice. Or am I to automatically assume that you've slept with every woman I come across in this town and call it a day?"
Okay, now that was a cheap shot. It better suited one of the arguments they'd had at the beginning of this relationship. But not now, and she instantly regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.
"Wow, you were right," he said as he parked the car in front of their building. "This is a whole hurricane of bullshit."
Before she could say another word, he was out of the car and slamming the door behind him. She saw him rounding the car to get her door even through his obvious anger, but she didn't wait for him. Flinging her door open, she swung her legs out and stood. The long hem of her dress caught on one of her spiked heels, and she teetered for balance for a few seconds. He put his hand on her arm to steady her and she shook him off. "Don't touch me right now."
Thunderclouds passed through his expression, but she turned her back on him anyway and stalked towards the door to the building. She got about halfway when he caught up to her and dipped down to grab her around her thighs and toss her over his shoulder. Screaming at him to let her go, she pounded on his back, feeling way too much like some damsel in distress from one of those cheesy old Claymation caveman movies.
Of course, he ignored her and didn't set her back down on her feet until they were in the elevator and she couldn't escape him. Thank God it was late enough that none of their neighbors were in the lobby.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked shoving away from him and retreating to the opposite wall of the elevator.
"You, you infuriating woman. You're what's wrong with me. There are some things we need to get straight right now before I let you get away from me for the night. I didn't tell you about Nicole because we slept together a million years ago in high school. Once." He held up a finger. "One time. We weren't fuck buddies, as you put it, or whatever the hell else she told you. I didn't have many standards back then, so I'll be honest, I hit it where I fit it and then moved on. I'm not like that now, and especially not with you. She was only saying that shit because she was trying to make you doubt yourself. Just like all this bullshit about your painting. She's jealous of you, Marie. That's a
ll this is."
Maybe. Maybe Nicole was jealous of her, but it still didn't soften the blow of knowing that they'd slept together. How could she stay with a man who had a history like his, especially in such a small town like this? Would she constantly be wondering if the women she saw everywhere she went had slept with her man? Realistically, she knew that what he did before was in his past and that she, and she alone, could be his future. She just didn't know if she would ever really be able to put it all out of her mind. But all of this was her issue, not his, and it didn't change the other half of this argument.
"Okay, fine, forget about Nicole. That's a side issue anyway. I won tonight, Adam. I won the stupid little contest that I've been dying to win for the last five years. I don't get any money or even any public recognition for it, but winning this contest meant that I was talented, that my work is important, worth the effort I expend on it. But I can't enjoy it or take pride in the victory that should have been mine, would have been mine if you would have let it go. You know that everyone in this damn town knows that we're an item. Hell, you engineered it that way. Now, no doubt with the help of Nicole's mouth, everyone in the artistic community around here is going to think that you boosted the price on purpose so that no one could come out ahead of me. Because we're fucking. Not because of my talent. It's a hollow victory. You took it from me."
The elevator doors opened before he could say anything, but she could tell that her words finally sunk in. She turned to escape the confining box, but not before she saw the shattered look on his face. Her sinuses stung as tears threatened to spill so she kept walking, refusing to let him see. Up until about a minute ago, she had been certain he'd done this on purpose, not knowing – or caring – what the long-term effect would be. But now, after seeing that stricken look in his eyes, she wasn't so sure.
Shoving the key into the lock, she opened her apartment door and flung it wide without turning around to see if he had even followed her out into the hallway. Apparently, he had and didn't like the idea of her ignoring him.