Beautiful Lies (15 page)

“Alfred?”

“Yes, my dear, it is indeed. I didn’t wake you did I?”

“No, no I am wide awake,” I say as I sit up in the chair.

“Great! I am sorry to call at such an unsociable hour but it simply couldn’t wait,” he says excitedly.

“Ok,” I wait for him to continue.

“Do you remember when I told you that I wanted to meet with you regarding a couple of the artist’s paintings for the gallery?”

“Yes.” Rick usually handles this stuff or we do it together so I am still unsure why he is calling me.

“Well, I called Mr. Adams regarding the matter but he felt that it was only right that you should handle this arrangement since you were in fact the one who attended the exhibition.”

“He did?”

“Yes, did he not mention my call to you?” He sounds concerned.

“We’ve had a crazy few days; he probably just forgot to tell me. What were you saying?”

“Ah, yes! I know that it is short notice but how would you feel about me bringing along two of the artists to the gallery tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, Mr. Adams explained that he will not be there and that if you were happy to, then the meeting could go along under your supervision.”

Even though Rick neglected to tell me, I can’t pretend that I am not excited. After everything that has been going on lately, it’ll be nice to have something to look forward to.

“I would love to,” I beam.

“Brilliant! Then it is settled, will midday be ok for you?”

“Midday is perfect.”

“Fabulous. Then I shall arrange for Mr. Rivers and Mr. Black to meet us there along with their work.”

I freeze.

“Who?” I blurt out.

“Ah yes, you don’t know Mr. Rivers, he is one of the new artists. You may not have had a chance to take a look at his work the other night but I am very certain that you will love it. And of course, you are already acquainted with Mr. Black and his work.”

“Of course,” I whisper.

“Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you, Ms Carter.”

“You too, Alfred, and thank you for the call.”

“Not a problem at all, my dear, and once again, allow me to apologize for calling at this hour.”

“It wasn’t a problem at all, anything to do with art has my attention no matter what time it is,” I laugh.

“I am glad to hear it. It explains why you are so good at your job.”

“You are far too kind, Alfred.”

“Only to those who deserve it. Goodnight, Ms Carter.”

“Goodnight, Alfred.”

As I put the phone down, my head starts spinning. I’m going to see
him
again. I haven’t stopped thinking about him since that night and I haven’t had one dream since I found out that he was real. To say that I am missing him is an understatement. The sad thing is that I know that he will not want to see me. He hasn’t been missing me and he doesn’t want me anywhere near him. That doesn’t stop me from feeling a little bit excited about tomorrow.

Once I’m in my bed, I try to sleep, but my mind is full of all the possible scenarios for tomorrow. I go from nervous to excited more times than I can count. I finally find myself drifting to sleep midway through a daydream about Taylor, declaring his undying love for me, tomorrow.
I wish.
I really do need to sleep. I let the events of today and all the days before, drift away because tomorrow is another day. And whoever invented that saying didn’t know just how right they were...tomorrow is definitely another day...a day filled with a plethora of possibilities....

CHAPTER TWELVE

PAIGE’S STORY

I
wake up feeling two things...empty and nervous. Empty, because I had another dreamless night, and nervous because today I am going to see Taylor again. The
real
Taylor. I wonder if he knows that I will be there. Surely Alfred would have mentioned that, right? But what if he didn’t? What if he turns up, sees me and runs out of there as fast as possible? I hate that he might do that.
The only thing I need to focus on is the art.
I can’t allow today to be about Taylor and I, it’s got to be about the paintings. One thing that I’ve always been good at is my job and that is not about to change. I am going to treat Taylor just as I would treat any other potential client. Alfred and the other artist will be there, so it’s not as if we will be alone or anything.

I decide to try and clear my mind of Taylor and just concentrate on getting ready. Alfred said that Rick would not be at the gallery today, so I’m pretty relieved about that. Dealing with him and Taylor was not what I needed today. I begin to focus on laying out everything that I need to get ready for work today. I’ve got a couple of hours until I need to be there but I want to be prepared.

After a nice hot shower, I set about styling my hair. I take a little longer on it today and take the time to straighten it out with the hot iron. I carefully apply a little more make up than usual.

I’m dressed and ready half an hour before I need to leave. I contemplate eating something before I go but the thought is quickly pushed away. I haven’t eaten very much since I found out that Taylor was real. It’s like when you receive bad news and your stomach twists so tight that the thought of food makes you want to throw up. It may not be the best decision, but I settle on leaving the apartment with an empty stomach. I head to the gallery way ahead of schedule. I want everything to be right and all in order before they arrive. Rick has never left me to do a transaction completely alone, and while a part of me is excited, the other part is feeling extremely nervous. I know that he is doing it so that we don’t have to work together but I don’t mind. I love any new challenge that pushes me to do more than I usually would.

When I arrive at the gallery, I am greeted by Jessica who has her usual happy-go-lucky look plastered all over her face.

“Good morning,” she beams as I stroll up to her desk.

“Morning, how are you?”

“I’m great, thank you! It’s nice to have you back. Are you feeling much better now?”

I’m confused for a moment before remembering that I’ve spent the last week calling in sick.

“Yes, I feel a lot better, thank you. How have things been here?”

“Busy. Very busy. We did well but we definitely missed your presence. Especially Rick.”

“What makes you say that?” I pry.

“Mostly I could just tell. You know when someone isn’t around...well you usually realize their worth then. He seemed to just get a true idea of how much you do since he had to do it all in your absence. Well, that, and the fact that he kept saying that things weren’t the same without you around.”

“He said that?” I ask in shock.

“You can ask him for yourself,” she smiles, pointing behind me. My stomach drops. He isn’t supposed to be here today.

“Ask me what?” He’s speaking to Jessica but his eyes are on me.

“I was just telling Paige that it wasn’t the same without her here.”

“No, it’s not the same.” I know that the sentence has a double meaning but I try to ignore it. He walked out on me so this is his problem not mine.

“Alfred said that you wouldn’t be here today,” I say.

“I won’t...you’re early.”

“I wanted to be prepared.”

“Right, well there’s something that I would like to discuss with you first. If you don’t mind?”

“That’s fine,” I say reluctantly. I smile at Jessica before following him silently, as we make our way to his office, upstairs. He opens his office door and allows enough space for me to walk ahead of him. He closes the door before turning to face me. He doesn’t say a word but instead he just stares at me. I look back and can see the emotion written all over his face. I know what that look means but I’m not about to break. He hurt me when he walked out, and that was
his
choice, not mine.

“Paige, I need to apologize.”

“No, you don’t,” I say firmly.

“I shouldn’t have done what I did...”

“What? Sleep with me when you knew that it meant nothing-”

“That’s not true.”

I scoff at his denial.

“Paige, it always means something with you. I was just confused. My head is all over the place and I messed up, but this past week has been agony. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too,” I admit. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Rick, you made your choice. This whole situation is messed up and I could understand your reasoning for wanting to walk away. I really could. But what you did after was cruel and unfair.”

“I know...just tell me how to make it right?”

“I can’t.”

“You have to, Paige. I’m begging you. Walking away from you felt like the right thing to do. I didn’t want either of us to hurt anymore and that seemed logical, but all I’m spending my time doing is missing you. Every day that you didn’t show up at the gallery was driving me crazy. Then when I saw you today, just now, I knew...I knew for sure that I love you. I love you more than this situation and I don’t want to go through this alone, and I don’t want you to be alone either.”

I take a deep breath.

“I wish that things were that simple but they’re not. You walked out; you made your choice and at the time it felt like the wrong one, but now that I’ve had time to think-”

“Don’t say it, please,” he begs.

“I have to, it’s the truth. You hurt me, Rick, real bad, but you taught me that the relationship we were in really wasn’t healthy.”

“It can be if we try. Maybe we both need to go to counseling. We could talk about the accident again...with that therapist that you saw. I can help you to remember everything. We can do it together this time. This time, you won’t be alone.”

“No.”

“Paige, please.”

“Rick, no. I can’t do this and definitely not here. I love this place but I can’t be here if this is what it is going to be like. I need a separation...this is work.”

I see a look of understanding cross his face.

“You’re right...I’m being completely inappropriate and unprofessional. I apologize. The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable here.”

“Thank you. I think that it’s probably best if we stay out of each other’s way...maybe create a bit of distance. We should only really talk when it is regarding business.”

“Ok,” he mumbles.

“Thank you. Now, if that will be all...?”

“Yes.” I can hear that he is holding back his hurt, but I try not to focus on that. I can’t allow my emotions to take over sensible decisions. Rick and I can’t be together right now, not with this whole mess with Taylor. I need time to sort it out and think things through. I don’t need to add Rick back into the mix and complicate things further, even if I do miss him.

The next twenty minutes are spent setting up the viewing room with easels and seats for our guests. Rick leaves the gallery with a mumbled goodbye, causing Jessica to raise her eyebrows at me in confusion. I ignore her silent question and continue with my work.

Alfred arrives perfectly on time, just as I expected him to. He is wearing a dark grey suit like always. I don’t think that I’ve ever seen him wear anything other than a suit. Jack Rivers--or Mr. Rivers as Alfred refers to him--is a brown haired man with striking blue eyes. He’s slightly taller than me and his smile is quite possibly one of the most beautiful that I have ever seen.

I am in the viewing room with Alfred and Jack, waiting in eager anticipation as he sets up his three paintings.

“Ms Carter, I do believe that you are going to be very excited by Mr. Rivers work.”

“Well, you haven’t disappointed me yet so I can’t see that your statement won’t be proved true,” I smile. “So, how long have you been painting for?” I ask Jack.

“Are we talking generally or professionally?” He smiles. I can imagine that that smile is the cause of many broken hearts.

“Professionally?”

“Two years.”

“Good, and how are you finding the world of art?”

He gently bites his lip as he searches for an answer. “Versatile,” he says with a soft chuckle.

“Yes, that it is,” I agree. There are many different people within the art industry that you can meet and you can often stumble across a wide range of personality types. “What style would you say your paintings fall into then?” I ask, glancing at the cloth covered paintings.

“I have never truly been able to answer that question.”

“Mr. Rivers work is often compared to the likes of Edgar Degas and Artemisia Gentileschi,” Alfred interjects.

“That is two very different styles. Degas is known for his use of dancers in his paintings, whereas Artemisia Gentileschi is more about the empowerment of women; woman who have suffered a brutality of some form,” I reply in confusion.

“That’s right. My work is often described as a fusion of the two,” Jack says. “Perhaps if I show you, it will make more sense.”