Submersed (20 page)

             
“It’s not a mermaid.”

             
“What in the world are you talking about?” I knew exactly what he was talking about. I bit the inside of my cheek and held my breath. It was a pity that this signaled the end of our relationship because Dillon seemed so proud to have cracked the case.
The mysterious case of Olivia Sharpe.

             
Now I could never see him again.

             
Dillon looked me dead in the eye and it felt like he
’
d pinned me to the wall with his gaze.
“
Submersed
.
The woman in it.
She
isn’t
a mermaid. She
’
s
…she’s
you
.”

             
“Yeah, well, art is subjective,” I sputtered and my hands betrayed me by fluttering out from my body.

             
He grabbed my arms and pinned them to my sides with his grip. “She’s you. You painted yourself. You painted how you feel trapped and submersed by your own fears. I didn’t realize it at first, but now I get it. I can see it so clearly. You let her go to the gallery because a part of you wanted free, but you’re too afraid to let her go completely. That’s why you put that ridiculous price tag on it. You’re scared.”

             
My mouth gaped open, but I couldn’t find any words to say to him. I felt numb. Somehow, in a few sentences, Dillon Milano had managed to sum up my entire existence. Damn him to hell.

             
The numbness faded away into anger. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to claw that self-righteous look off his beautiful face. I wanted to pummel his chest until I couldn’t feel anything.

             
Instead, I tore myself from his grip stepped away. “Get out,” I said, my voice tight and controlled.

             
“No, I get it now,
Livi
.” His brow furrowed and he reached out a hand. “It
’
s okay.”

             
“No you don’t.” I wheeled away, ignoring his hand. “It
’
s
not
okay.”

             
I started pacing the room like one of those prowling white tigers.

             
I wanted to erase the past few months and forget I’d ever met Dillon. I should have slammed the door in his face that day. I never should have called him in the first place. Now, he was standing here in front of me, dissecting me like some lifeless frog on a cold metal lab table. I had to get away from him and those eyes. Those eyes that looked straight into me like I was made of glass. He had no right.

             
“I want you to leave.”

             
“
Livi
?”
Those blue eyes narrowed in concern. He shifted his weight to his other foot.

             
The air between us crackled with tension.

             
I felt anger boil up and burn my throat. “I will not stand here and be analyzed like some…some
freak show
!
I want you to leave.”

             
“Ah, Jesus.”
Dillon raked his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry,
Livi
, I--”

             
“Get out, Dillon.”

             
“Please.” He took a step toward me
, h
is lips pressed together in a thin line. “I didn’t mean--”

             
“Now!”
I
shouted,
my voice deep and raw. I stormed into the bathroom, gripped the doorjamb and whirled around. “You’d better be gone before I come back out or I’m calling security.” The threat scalded my throat and I slammed the door shut with a bang.

             
Without undressing, I turned on the shower and stumbled inside to stand beneath the spray. Hot, fat tears burned past my eyes and I ducked my head so they washed away down the drain.

             
I had ruined everything with a few angry sentences and now Dillon was gone forever. I had been in such a rotten mood I would’ve picked a fight with the Dalai Lama if he were there instead of Dillon.

             
I had wanted to break something.
To hurl something against the wall or squish something to pieces with my bare hands.
Instead, I lashed out at Dillon, hurling words, breaking our trust and squashing our friendship with my fingers.

             
Gut wrenching sobs shook my body and I collapsed against the cold, unforgiving tile.

             
When I came out of the bathroom an hour later, Dillon was gone and I felt like a steaming pile
of
shit. It wasn’t his fault. How was he to know that after what he’d said he might as well have chained me to the corner of Las Vegas Boulevard and Tropicana Avenue in my birthday suit?

             
In my bedroom, I curled up on the window seat that Daddy had custom made for me. It offered a spectacular view of The Strip. Twinkling lights, neon signs, the whole she-bang. It was dusk and the city lights below started glowing. But I didn’t see them. Instead, I thought about all the things I was missing out on by locking myself away from the world. I thought about the experiences I was preventing myself from having. Those things had never particularly bothered me before. If anything, I had been relieved to not participate.

             
Now I wasn’t so sure.

             
When I tried to sleep that night, I tossed and turned in the empty expanse that was my bed. It was cold and much too big for just one person.

             
I hated myself for ruining everything and for chasing away the one good thing I’d actually found in this miserable life.

Chapter Seventeen

             
The next morning, I looked at the clock and determined Dillon was most likely at the gym. I knew his schedule by heart. Although it probably wasn’t appropriate for me to seek him out in a non-professional capacity, I’d already crossed the client-escort line when I entrusted him with my shameful secret. And then tossed him out like the trash.

             
I was going to set things right even if it meant facing some of my biggest fears to do it.

             
After a call down to Frank for a driver, I stood in my closet for what seemed like forever, looking, scrutinizing my clothes, agonizing over what to wear. I wished I lived in the arctic or somewhere where I could bundle up and hide my body, but unfortunately the temperature outside was hovering around the mid-ninety mark.

             
I couldn’t go out in sweats
--
no one should be allowed to wear them in public
---
and besides
,
it was too warm outside for them anyway. My yoga pants were super comfortable but weren’t flattering enough and most of them were stained with paint. Finally, after trying on a dozens of outfits, I decided on a pair of khaki shorts and a tee shirt. The shirt felt a little too baggy but it was better than being too snug. Even though I had flip-flops they seemed to…exposing, so I picked out a pair of white sneakers.

             
During the ride to the gym, I contemplated what I would say. No matter how I twisted the words around I kept coming back to the same realization. I was a jackass. And I had to apologize for it.

             
When the driver pulled up to our destination, I was thankful it was in a decent neighborhood.

             
I instructed the driver to wait for me, took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. After crossing my fingers, I headed into Dillon’s home away from home.

             
Inside the modern building, a perky blonde with a perky blonde ponytail greeted me at the reception desk with a perky smile.

             
“May I help you?” she asked in a perky voice.

             
I cleared my throat and dredged up every ounce of courage I had. “Yes. I’m looking for Dillon Milano. Do you know if he
’
s here?”

             
“Yeah, he
’
s here.” She craned her neck to see into the workout area. “He’s probably back in the weight room. Straight through there and just take a left before you get to the treadmills.”

             
“Thank you,” I said and started walking in the direction she’d pointed me.

             
Once inside the weight room, I immediately spotted Dillon lifting free weights off to the side. Luckily, he was the only one inside.

             
His muscles flexed, his skin had
a sheen
of sweat. He looked like a sexed up
Bowflex
commercial. My stomach fluttered and then clenched as I remembered all the horrible things I’d said to him.

             
As if he could sense my presence, he looked over at me and set down his weights.

             
I walked over to him on trembling legs.

             
“Wow.” He flashed me a smile that told me he didn’t hold a grudge. “You’re the last person I expected to see walking through those doors.”

             
I offered him a weak smile in return. “I needed to come and apologize.” I shrugged into my shirt and let my hair fall down the sides of my face like a curtain. It was bad enough the gym was unfamiliar territory, but there were also dozens of people milling around. “I…I wanted to tell you I’m sorry for flying off the handle yesterday.”

             
Dillon raked his hands through his hair and sighed. “I’m the one who owes you an apology. You confided in me and I turned around and was a complete ass to you. I’m so sorry,
Livi
. I shouldn’t have--”

             
I put my hand up to stop him. “No, Dillon. You were right. Everything you said was true. It just…hit a little too close to home and I freaked out. I
’
m sorry.”

             
“Aw,
Livi
.
Come here.” He pulled me into a sweaty hug, but I didn’t mind his damp skin on mine one bit.

             
I breathed in his smell and swallowed back tears.

             
He released me and apologized again. “Sorry. I’m all sweaty.”

             
“It’s okay.” In fact, his pheromones were heavenly. The tears were forgotten and I cherished the feeling of his body pressed against mine again. “I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

             
“Never,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I hope you can forgive me.”

             
“All is forgiven.”

             
For a minute there, feeling his arms around me and his lips on my face, I almost forgot where I was. Quickly, as my surrounding closed in on me and I remembered where I was, I hunched my shoulders and tried to hide behind my hair.

             
“No one’s staring at you,” Dillon pointed out, with kindness in his voice.

             
I tried to stutter an answer, but nothing came out.

             
To prove his point, he put his hands on my shoulders and wheeled me around. “Look,” he instructed.

             
I looked out at the gym through the glass doors of the weight room. Outside, a tall, slender woman jogged on a treadmill, her black ponytail bouncing up and down. She listened to headphones and
watched the TV mounted in front of her. Across from her, a man, pretending to use some kind of elliptical contraption, was staring at a redhead using the hand weights. On the other side of the room, another man was looking at himself in the mirror as he did crunches. All in all, none of them were paying the slightest attention to little old me.

             
I let out a ragged breath.

             
“See,” Dillon leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Not a one. And they’re all idiots, too,” he added. “I couldn’t help but stare at you the way you stormed in here looking like a goddess.”

             
Okay, so nobody was looking at me. That was a relief. I let the goddess remark slide.

             
“Come to dinner with me,
Livi
. I want to see you tonight.”

             
“I can’t.” The thought of going out and having people stare at me while I tried to eat gave me the heebie-jeebies. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. Coming here was about as much as I can handle in one day,” I confessed. I needed to get back to my studio where it was safe.