Bed of Thornes (Bed of Thornes Trilogy Book 1) (18 page)

“Who wants to spend thousands on a car just because?”

“Is it a problem?” He looks confused.

“I'm not saying it's a problem, but at the same time I don't know how to react to such a gesture. I mean, that's a big deal. Not to mention, I can afford it myself.”

He looks offended. “I never said you couldn't. I didn't do it to show off my money, Veronica. Can't someone just do something nice for someone else?”

“As long as there aren't any strings attached.” I blurt out before thinking.

“Strings?” He chuckles.

“Well what is it then? There's got to be more to it than just being nice. It's not just the car either... the paint brushes?”

“Oh yes, do you like them?”

His nonchalance becoming offensive. Do I look as dumb as he's portraying me?

“They're very nice, Mr. Clayton. However, gifts like that are meant for more personal relations... not from doctor to patient, normally.”

“I don't do
normally.
” He says in a cocky mimic.

“Wow. Do you have any idea how you're making me feel right now?”

“Veronica, the only thing I'm trying to do is make up for what happened. If that's not acceptable in the normal world, I'm sorry. Honestly, I've felt guilty since the accident. It's not that I think the gifts would make up for anything, but you deserve that and so much more.”

Fuck. Here it comes. I knew there were strings. He can't fool me.

He continues, “You're beautiful, young, talented, and loved. You didn't deserve to almost lose your life over my carelessness. You deserve to be treated like a princess.”

Ew. I think I just somewhat vomited in my mouth. The sound of being his princess, that thought alone merely causes me to be sick. Seriously? He's older, he's cocky, and he obviously thinks material things are what counts to bribe people into liking you. He's wrong. First of all, I would rather be treated like a queen than a princess. Secondly, I don't take well to being beneath someone. He comes off as that type. I can't help but lose my appetite.

“Aren't you going to order?” He asks me when the waitress comes to take our orders.

“No, thanks. I'm not hungry.”

“I'll have the house salad.” He tells the waitress who's waiting.

“Okay, so I thought you wanted to meet about the project... what did you want to discuss?”

“That was just my way of getting you to meet with me. I knew you wouldn't find time for me unless it had to do with work. I can tell you're all about work, Veronica.”

I roll my eyes. “So you lied to get me to meet with you?”

“Not lied, just used a different reason.”

Cocky bastard.

“Look.” I interrupt his sip of his drink. “Whatever your intentions are. Stop. I'm thankful for what you've done and all, but I think that's where it needs to be left at. So, thank you for your kindness.”

“If that's how you want to play it.” He takes a sip of his drink, he even does that in a cocky bastard manner.

“Excuse me? Play? I'm not into games. You have the wrong person. If you think that I'm playing hard to get or something, you're sadly mistaken. I have no interest in taking things further than what they are between us. Client and Painter. Doctor and Patient. Beyond that, there's nothing. I don't even know you. Just because you helped me, doesn't give you the right to try to get into my pants.”

I get easily tempered when someone assumes shit about me that's not true. What can I say, I respect and protect myself. I get up and grab my purse from the seat.

“You'll change your mind, Veronica.” That stupid grin on his face, I want to smack it off of him.

“You can come to the Triple R meeting when the other clients come to choose if you'd like to use the piece I created for you. Otherwise, I would rather not have these personal meetings again. Have a nice day, Mr. Clayton.”

“
O
h
shit. I knew there was more to it.” Jenna says.

Sitting outside of the gallery, talking about what happened at the lunch I had the day before. I told her how his personality took a complete turn and all the bullshit he said to me.

“You were right, you've always been good at depicting people's actions. I just never thought he would do that. I've only met with him in my work environment, he didn't try anything then.”

“Maybe the accident made him feel differently. For all you know he could have had his eye on you for a long time.”

“Creepy.” I shake my head.

Then I get to thinking. The way I first saw Adrian, how I had dirty thoughts about him for weeks before ever meeting him and getting to know him personally. Maybe I'm just as much of a creep. If I told Adrian, he may see me in a different light, like I have serious issues. I admit to myself that I have problems, or at least in my eyes. I wouldn't want to let anyone else know these things about me though. I think I've exposed Adrian to enough recently, with my room of guilty pleasures and all.

I change the subject. “So, Adrian wanted to know what you are planning for my birthday. He has two headlining shows over the weekend, he didn't know if you would want to use the venues as part of it or something.”

“Actually, I was thinking of taking you somewhere we haven't been in a long time.” She has a sneaky look across her face.

“Where's that?” My curiosity strikes.

“The male strip club.” She grins wickedly.

“Oh God.” I laugh.

“I'm serious, I need some excitement in my life too, you know.”

“Is it my birthday or yours?” I chuckle.

“Hey, you know you'd enjoy it just as much. Adrian isn't the only man left on earth, girl.”

“Yeah... but...”

“But what? It's not like the two of you are in a relationship. So I know that shouldn't be what's stopping you.”

“So what am I supposed to tell him?”

“The truth. Why does it matter? It's not like he can get mad.”

“I can't tell him that.”

“Why not? Something going on between the two of you that I'm not aware of?”

“No... it's just that I know he's sensitive. I don't think he would like the idea compared to us attending his show.”

“Alright, so we can come up with something to tell him for Friday then we can go to his Saturday show. Would that work?”

“I guess.” I shrug and laugh. “You're a mess, Jen.”

“Proud of it.” She chuckles.

“That's Playmate coming out of you.” I grin.

“You know me, Ronni, I can't go too long without having some good fun.”

“Bad fun is more like it.” I chuckle.

“Call it what you want, we only live once.” She shrugs and flips her blonde hair out of her face.

We go inside and get the display room set up for the Triple R's that way there's not much to do when the actual day comes. My paintings are hung along the wall, showcasing each one individually. I look at Mr. Clayton's piece. I feel disgusted. Something about that man just makes me cringe now. I can't wait for this to be over.

I text Adrian when I'm finished with everything at the gallery to see if he wants to meet up tonight at a bar. I want to tell him the truth when he asks about my birthday weekend, but it's in his best interest to leave it at what Jenna came up with. She decided that we tell him we're having a girls night Friday and then we will be at his show on Saturday. If he wants to know what we're doing, I'll just tell him we're going to dinner and movies with a couple of our girl friends.

'What are you up to tonight?'

'Not much, what about you?'

'Want to meet for drinks?'

'Where at?'

'Blu's Bar'

'When will you be there?'

'In about 40 minutes.'

'I'll see you soon then.'

Blu's is packed tonight, they're having a special poet's night. I love to listen to the talents of poets, the words they speak are so honest and raw. I get inside and find a booth near the back. The music plays before the first poet takes the stage, I have the waitress come over to take my drink order while I wait for Adrian. About ten minutes passes, he walks in and spots me right away. I smile at him when he motions to the bar to let me know he's grabbing a drink.

I can't believe the sexiest man in this place is coming to meet with me. It still gives me chills to think about how lucky I am to have such a perfect fuck. I have to admit, I always get what I want, one way or another. Does that make me cocky? I start to think maybe I'm the female version of Mr. Clayton. That may be why I don't like him. I don't get along with others that are too much like myself. Is that it? Am I just as fucked up as him?

Adrian walks up to the booth.

“Is this seat for me?” He asks in an adorable way.

“Of course, it wouldn't be for anyone else.” I flirt back.

“I like the sound of that.” He winks and sits down with his drink in hand.

We talk for a few moments before the show starts. I let him know the deal with the coming weekend before he even asks, just to get it out of the way.

“So I won't see you Friday then?” He asks.

“Well maybe at night if you'd want to come by, but I'll probably be out late... and I'm sure your show will run late as well, right?”

“Yeah, I guess I'll just text you that night and see what's up.” He shrugs it off and takes a drink of what looks like whiskey.

I take down what's left of my sex on the beach.

“Would you like another?” Adrian asks me as the lights start to dim and the music fades.

“Yes, please.”

He goes to the bar to get us more drinks and gets seated just in time for the introduction of the first poet. The crowd applauds and a tall black male takes the stage.

“I call this piece Delilah.” He sets the mood and begins.

“Delilah... your flaws are flattering, your perfection is stunning.

You are the seduction to my soul. You are the deception that corrupts me.

I can't turn away. You have held me captive. If you let go, I will break.

Shatter. I may then match the pieces you have given me. Pieces of you.

Some of you. Not all. You have taken all of me, but haven't returned.

Regret. Pain. Shame. The lies. Da lies. De-li-lah. The liar.”

His poem continues on for another two verses, but this particular verse captures me. I feel like it's a message. The way I have had to hide certain things from Adrian, I am Delilah. I try to focus on the rest of the show, but the first words of the night stuck with me the entire time. I wish I could just tell him everything. Tell him about the things that nobody knows about me. I want to share it all with him, but the thought of sharing it with another scares the shit out of me. It means commitment, to share, to be one.

The show ends, Adrian and I are about four or five drinks in... I've lost count. I feel the buzz of my drinks when I rise from my seat, and I realize just how tipsy I am. I can't drive, but neither can he. Great. Both of our cars are here, and we're both intoxicated more than the legal limit would allow us to be driving. I look over at Adrian, who looks about as stable as me. This is wonderful. I start to laugh, and he joins in when he looks at the condition we are in.

“Now what?” I ask. “How the hell are we getting out of here? We have to sober up before we can drive, and I don't want to be sober right now.” I chuckle.

Drowning all the thoughts in my head is apparently a great escape, much simpler than continuing to think about it. I feel great, not drunk and sloppy, just floating nicely. This would be a perfect time to get him all alone. I look up at Adrian, he's walking towards me.

“Let's walk it off, or grab something to eat if you'd like... that'll get us back to a level where we can at least get our cars parked somewhere other than at the bar.” He laughs.

“How far is it to the Adolphus from here?” I ask him with a slight slur.

“It's a couple blocks, walking distance. Is that where you want to go?”

“Yes. We can come back for our cars later.” I nod and we lock hands to get out of the crowd as everyone is leaving the bar.