The Other F-Word (23 page)

“It’s a date,” I said before ending the call. I took a giant sip of my water, wishing to turn off what he had turned on in me. Then again, what had I expected? He always did that.

I looked over the menu again, surprised Peter had picked such a nice restaurant for lunch. We usually met at a cheap diner somewhere. I saw him stroll in and had to smile. He looked like an artist with his blond mane coming down to his shoulders and his ill-fitting suit. I was willing to wager there was a splotch of paint on it somewhere.

“My dark haired Brigitte Bardot, let me drink you in like a glass of the finest claret and get drunk off the vision.”

I tried not to roll my eyes at his typical greeting.

“You know what happens when you get drunk, so it’s probably a good idea to stop the flirting, Casanova.”

“Seriously, how is it you always look the same age, Emmie? In fact, I’d say you are even prettier now than when I met you.”

I smiled with his compliment. “Clean living, I guess.”

“My apologies for being late,” he said, taking the seat across from me.

I shrugged, too happy to even be annoyed. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding. It was nice of Marley to send me an invitation, but I had a gallery opening that night.”

“I saw the painting you sent them. I can’t believe how detailed it was. I don’t even remember you painting her at that age.”

“I did it from an old photograph.”

“It was lovely. They both love it. They hung it in their living room.”

He gave me a pleased smile, deep enough to show off the dimple on his right cheek. “I hear he’s a very nice man. At least, that’s what Billie says.”

“He’s the best.”

“I’m glad she found someone who’s good to her.”

“He’s good for her.”

“Is the someone you’re with good for you too?”

It was such an unexpected question that I almost dropped my water glass. “How did you know I was seeing someone?”

“Maybe it didn’t work out between us, but I still remember all your expressions. I’ve studied them, whether I was painting you or not. You’re glowing, Emmie. And you’re wearing pink, a colour that takes you from beautiful to breathtaking. And you’re not pissed at me for being late. I guess the evidence is pretty clear either way.”

I smiled, unable to hide my joy. It was a physical force. Force…there was a good F-word. “I have been seeing him for a few months.”

“I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be dating again. It’s funny, Billie didn’t mention it when we talked last.”

“The kids don’t know yet.”

“Why is it a secret? Are you having a clandestine affair?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. That was never your style.”

“It’s like you said, I haven’t been with anyone in a very long time. I have to make sure it’s real before I introduce him to the family.”

“Whatever it is, he’s a lucky man. A prince among peasants, I’d say.”

“Thank you, Peter. What about you? Anyone in your life?”

He shrugged. “When a man’s had the finest Monet in his grasp, everything else is like a paint-by-numbers kit in comparison.”

“Peter—”

He held up his hand. “It’s okay, Emmie. I’m sorry, I know it makes you uncomfortable.”

I took out the folder I’d brought with me. “Are you ready to discuss the expenses?”

Peter nodded, his smile conveying an eagerness I hadn’t been expecting. He always procrastinated before these discussions. I understood in part. Money was tight for both of us, but at least he paid his share, most of the time. “She’s taking some advanced classes this semester, so it’s going to be more. The student loans she’s taken will cover at least half. I want us to pay the other half, though.”

“I agree. She should have whatever she needs. She’s a smart kid, just like her mother.”

“Is there vodka in your water glass? Or are you lying about not seeing anyone? I was prepared for more of a fight.”

“I came into some money recently. I won’t have any trouble taking care of these bills.”

“Good, so you’re not pulling starving artist on me this time? Did you sell a painting?”

“Better, I sold many and I have you to thank for it.”

“I don’t understand.”

The waitress came then and we placed our order. When she finally left, he tucked his long hair behind his ears. A sign of his eagerness, which would be followed by large hand gestures.

“An anonymous admirer of my work purchased the Beloved portraits I had. The ones featuring my muse.”

They were the paintings of me.

“His agent has also solicited me to track down the ones I’ve sold over the years in exchange for a generous finder’s fee.”

It didn’t take a sleuth to figure out who Peter’s admirer was. The flurry of emotions raging inside me were baffling. Was I mad? Not really. I didn’t regret the portraits, but I was never comfortable with the idea of my nakedness being on display in a stranger’s house. Damien owning them was better, but it was strange too. Was I happy? I wasn’t sure.

“What’s wrong, Em?”

“I think your admirer is also my prince.”

Peter’s smile tightened. “I see. He must be very wealthy.”

“He is. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Of course, it might not be true. Your work is very good, after all.”

Peter placed his elbows on the table, leaning his chin against his conjoined fingers. “You were always very sweet. You feel bad because you think I’m disappointed that I don’t have a true fan?”

I nodded.

“I’m disappointed because a man who would make such a grand and costly gesture cares for you a great deal. I would love to sit here and extol the dangers of such a relationship. To tell you he sounds controlling and obsessive, but I wouldn’t be doing it with a clean heart. I’m jealous, Emmie. That’s all.” He dropped his hands, smiling sheepishly.

I put my hand over his. “Peter, we will always be friends. I forgave you a long time ago. Any man who could give me a daughter like Billie would receive no malice from me. You will find someone and I know you won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“I shouldn’t have made it the first time.”

I was trying to think of something encouraging to say when I heard the unmistakable click of a camera. Peter and I both turned to the entrance where a grinning Kelly Harris was doing some type of Miss America pageant wave at me.

“Did that woman just take our picture?” Peter asked.

“Yep.”

“Maybe I do have fans,” he said, smiling eagerly.

I didn’t want to tell him that Kelly Harris was no fan of his, but rather an enemy of mine. As if it wasn’t brazen enough to snap the photo, she walked towards us, clicking her heels with exaggerated grace that was so unbecoming it was downright annoying.

“Hello, Emmie, I thought that was you. I was walking by the window and thought this was such a cute restaurant. I just had to take a photo to show Damien the layout. I think he’d be interested.”

“Well, look at you, always on the clock.”

“I’m Kelly Harris,” she said, extending a hand towards Peter.

“Peter Price, it’s a pleasure.”

“How rude of me, I should have introduced you. Kelly works for my boyfriend.” I added extra emphasis on boyfriend.

“Oh?” Peter’s amused smirk said it all. Yeah, I was acting a bit like the very girls I despised. I couldn’t help it that Damien brought out a possessive streak I hadn’t even known existed.

“Well, I should go. It’s always good to see you, Emma,” she said, pivoting on those heels.

“It’s Emmie, you got it right the first time,” I said too loudly to her back.

“What just happened here?” Peter asked.

“My prince has a secret admirer of his own.”

Chapter Twenty

It took forty-five minutes for the text messages and phone calls to come. Enough time for Damien to get out of his meeting, and Kelly to deliver the photos. I was getting my nails done, and I didn’t want to have the conversation in the middle of the salon. I’d made the appointment over a week ago, and I didn’t want Kelly Harris affecting my life any more than she wanted me with Damien. I watched the texts come through…each one progressively worse.

Who is he?

What’s going on?

Call me…now.

I left too early and damaged my nails. I called his cell this time, and he picked up right away.

“Extrapolate,” he said in a cold voice.

“That’s no kind of greeting.”

“I’ve been imagining all kinds of things since Kelly showed me the picture, and none of them good.”

“It’s not what you think. She’s trying to sabotage us.”

“Of course she is! I’ll fire her for that. You think I don’t know that? But are you trying to tell me you weren’t holding another man’s hand today?”

“Yes, but you have nothing to be worried about. It was my ex-husband.”

He laughed cynically. “You think that makes me feel better?”

“It should. There’s nothing going on.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because I’m not one of your employees. I don’t answer to you, Damien Wolfe.”

“Yes. You. Do.”

“Excuse me?” My nails dug into the flesh on my palms.
Goodbye, manicure.

“You answer to me, just as I answer to you. That’s what being in a relationship is.” His voice had a strained, tight quality that sounded foreign to me.

“You’re acting ridiculous.”

“Am I? I think I’m handling it pretty well.”

“You need to trust me. Do you think I would cheat on you after everything I’ve told you?”

“No, I don’t, but I absolutely think you should let me know when you’re having lunch with another man, especially one you had a prior relationship with.”

“I didn’t get a chance. It’s not a big deal, so stop making it one.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t we on the phone just a short while ago? Would it have been so difficult to insert a sentence somewhere about this?”

“Damien, you’re really pissing me off.”

“Likewise, baby.”

The line went dead. He’d hung up on me. I almost threw my phone against the shop window, but I managed to calm myself down. Who did he think he was? I’d been having an innocent lunch with Peter. In fact, we’d spent most of the time either talking about Damien or Billie.

Instead of going home, I took a long walk to process what had happened. Had we broken up? I didn’t think so, but this definitely qualified as a fight. I took my ear buds out of my purse and stuck them in my phone. This was a Janis Joplin moment if there ever was one. I scrolled to the only song that could make me feel better—
Piece of My Heart
. It was powerful enough to calm me, yet strong enough to help me feel justified in my ticked off state.

I walked down the Miracle Mile, blaring Janis in my ears, wearing my hot pink Jacqueline Kennedy style wrap dress, black knee high boots, complete with ruined manicure and bitter expression. He kept calling. I ignored it.
Fuck him. How dare he insinuate I would betray him?
I kept marching, my heartbeat came down and even Janis was whispering through her poetic lyrics that maybe I was acting foolishly.

I stopped and leaned against a store window. I needed some advice so I called Kate. It went to voicemail.
Damn
. She was the one person I could ask. Then I remembered I had two daughters in very committed relationships. Only they didn’t know about Damien and I didn’t want to answer those questions yet. Maybe I could ask without asking. I decided to call Stevie. She was blunter than Marley—she’d tell me straight out what she thought.

“Hi, Mom,” she answered on the second ring.

She started talking about Bobby right away, and there was no way I was interrupting an opportunity to talk about my adorable grandson so I listened to her and conversed back.

“Mom, I’m sorry was there another reason you called?”

“I had a question for you. A hypothetical one.”

“Shoot.”

“What would you do if Adam had lunch with an ex and didn’t tell you?” I cringed hearing it aloud. I slapped my hand against my mouth, curling my fingers, which was a huge mistake because they were still wet. Now I had crimson Jezebel all over my mouth.

“Why? Did you see him? Who is she?” Her voice grew into a shriek with every question

“Stevie, calm down. I swear this is hypothetical. I’m asking for a…friend. Adam wouldn’t do that to you.” No, he wouldn’t hurt my daughter like that.

“Oh, good,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Because I would kill her.”

“Stevie, I raised you better than that.”

“You’re right. It’s not entirely her fault. I would kill him.”

“What it if was a business meeting of sorts and you were just dating at the time?”

“Well, Adam is a civil engineer so unless she wanted a bridge built or a building surveyed, I don’t see the point.”

“Stevie, just go with me here. What if there was a good reason for the meeting?”

“It would have been worse if we were dating because the relationship was new and my insecurities high. I wouldn’t necessarily think he was cheating, but I’d be hurt nonetheless.”

“You trust Adam, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but he shouldn’t give me a reason to question that trust. By not telling me, he’s basically saying he doesn’t account for my feelings. And well…that’s a very different kind of betrayal.”

“I think you’re right.”

“So who’s this friend? Is it Arty?”

“No, I have to go. Give Bobby a kiss for me, and tell Adam…”

“Tell Adam what?”

“That I’m glad you married him.”

I found myself wandering the city further, thinking about what Stevie had said. I was running out of Joplin to nourish my soul, and it didn’t matter anyway since my phone had one bar left. Then I was alone with my thoughts. I imagined the situation in reverse. What if Damien was having a quiet lunch in a nice restaurant, holding the hand of one of his exes? I swallowed the bitter seeds of pride, making my way to his building.

* * * *

I sat at his doorstep, chiding myself for being so pathetic. Maybe I should have called him instead of waiting for him to get home like some sort of enthusiastic puppy.