Inseparable: A New Adult Erotic Romance (12 page)

Bonnie seemed genuinely impressed, nodding her head slightly as she sipped her wine. "I’ll keep that in mind. My company owns a complete set of photographic and image processing equipment. We hire freelancers to shoot with it at the end of each project for our portfolio. Would you be interested in doing that as well?"

"I’ll be happy to give it a shot. I don’t know much more than I was taught in the photography classes I took, but I’ve been told I have a good eye."

"Excellent, I’ll make note of that in our system. I only saw the one set of murals in your ad, have you done anything else?"

"Yes, I also painted a set of murals in a restaurant near downtown. It was much simpler, just some postcard-style landscapes with a southwest theme, but they turned out very well. The client even gave me a bonus." They hadn’t, but Julie figured she’d plant the seed in case Bonnie felt guilty getting more than her money’s worth.

"I’d love to see them to get a flavor for your range. Do you have any photographs of your other work?"

"No, I didn’t have access to a good camera then, but I’ve been considering going back to see if I could take some. You’re not the only one who has asked to see more." Technically Jack wanted to see them, too, she thought, trying not to mislead more than she had to. She wanted to change the subject, so she said, "What can you tell me about the client and what they want for their playroom?"

"Well, the customer has two little girls, aged 6 and 3, who love princesses and castles. The way she explained her idea was uncannily similar to your design. I wonder if she could have seen it somewhere?"

"I have no idea. I was given very little guidance when I did the room, so I just put together some simple coloring book art and scaled it up to wall size. I never really saw the kids in the room to see if they liked it after I finished, but I heard they did from the client."

"Do you mind if I ask who the client was?" she asked. And there’s the rub, Julie thought.

She gave Bonnie a sideways glance, smiling sweetly. "Now why would you want to know that?"

"Just curious really, but if they are willing to pay for decorating a playroom, maybe they’ll do more. I do pay for leads."

"That’s good to know. I’d like to ask them before I share their information with anyone." The waiter came up again to take their order. Bonnie ordered some kind of shrimp dish. Julie was being careful with what she ate, so she got a salad with grilled chicken and a light raspberry dressing.

"I’m actually glad you are careful with other people’s information. My clients expect a certain amount of discretion since we work inside their homes and around their families." Bonnie stared at her for a long moment, sipping her wine.

"Do you know the dimensions of the room and the size of the open walls?" Julie was determined to stay focused on the business. "I still have my sketches from the last one I can reuse, but the design needs a usable corner with wall space on both sides."

"Sure," Bonnie said with an amused expression, possibly sensing Julie’s discomfort. She pulled out a pad of paper from her attache and provided a rough outline of the room with general dimensions, including the location of doors, windows, and the opening to the stairway. "You have a long stretch between the two windows here. The other side has the two doorways to the girls’ bedrooms." She tore out the page and handed it to Julie.

"May I use your pad and pencil?" Julie asked, wanting to impress her if she could. She drew a series of lines to frame the perspective of the long wall and began to sketch quickly, adding a tall tower, and a prince kneeling to his beautiful princess. As she sketched, Bonnie sipped her wine thoughtfully, nibbling at her lower lip as she watched.

Julie ripped the first page out and set it aside to start another view of the two doors leading to the girls’ rooms. After she lined out the perspective and the doors, she placed a tree between them with branches reaching over the tops. In the center of each door, she sketched little girl princesses, smiling to herself as she made each one hold her skirt out as if curtsying. She was careful not to make them look too much like Jack’s girls for now.

"How about that?" Julie said, pulling a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Bonnie held both pages out at arms length with her eyebrows high. "If I hadn’t seen you do it, I’d never have believed you could work so quickly. These are just perfect. When we get to the house I’ll show you pictures of the girls so you can give the little princesses their character. Just perfect."

"I’m glad you like them." Julie realized she was flushing, but couldn’t help her response to the praise. "I’ll work on them some more and make a copy with a grid to scale them up. Do you need to get approval?"

"No, the client left me to make the final decision. I am already thinking of what else I can use you for. Your rate works out to about $20 an hour. I think you are underselling yourself. I’m going to sell your time for about $50 an hour, and you should be getting at least $30. Would you mind if I adjust your quote to me? I’d feel like I was taking advantage of you otherwise."

Julie was shocked. "You want to pay me more?"

"Yes. And I’d like you to make some time next week to come consult with me at my office in the evenings. I need to put some proposals together and they would be better if you would sketch samples for me to include in them. On the clock, of course." Julie felt a little lightheaded.

Before she could respond, the waiter arrived to place their food on the table. The shrimp was called prawns in this place and they left the heads on, their little whiskers and antenna sticking out above the small pile of rice and mushrooms on Bonnie’s plate. The smell was a somewhat overpowering, but Julie swallowed hard and focused on her salad. She assumed from the price that there would be more food on the large plate. Instead, the salad was nestled in a small dip in the center of the plate. Six small squares of chicken were arranged on the flat surface around the salad. An artful, drizzled trail of red dressing over and around the whole plate completed the presentation.

"Bon Appetit," said the waiter as he backed away from the table.

Julie had to admit it tasted good, but there wasn’t really enough there to fill her up. Bonnie worked quickly with her fork and knife to decapitate the prawns and drag the meat through the trails of sauce before eating them.

"How is your salad?" Bonnie said after washing her bite down with some wine.

"It’s very good. I don’t recognize the type of lettuce they are using, but it has an interesting, almost bitter flavor."

"That’s the arugula. I like it too."

"What about your shrimp?"

"Lovely. The chef grills them with a salt crust, then peels the shell off the tail. I don’t know why they leave the heads on, it just makes more work to eat them and does nothing for the presentation in my opinion."

"Unfortunately, it’s doing something for me though. Excuse me, I need to go to the restroom." Julie dashed off, afraid she wasn’t going to make it. She locked herself into the stall and bent over the bowl breathing heavily. She kept swallowing, trying to wait out the wave of nausea. She heard the door to the restroom open.

"Julie, are you OK?" Bonnie sounded concerned.

"Yes, just a bit of a stomach bug, I think. I’ll be fine in a moment."

"OK. If you want I can wait here with you in case you need something."

"No, it’s fine, really. For some reason the little shrimp heads and the smell of the seafood got to me. If you go back to the table, please have them box up the rest of my salad. I think I need to go home."

"I’m so sorry, yes, of course I’ll be happy to do that."

When she was alone again Julie let out a long, slow breath. The intensity was fading as she took deep breaths. When the worst had passed, she lowered her jeans and sat on the toilet to relieve herself, resting her head in her hands.

The tears came suddenly, her emotions finally overwhelming her strength as she wept quietly. It was as if the gravity of the situation struck her all at once, like it never had before. "Oh, Jack, what am I going to do?" Telling her mom would create more stress than it relieved. She could call her friend Polly, but that would open the door to talking about options she wasn’t ready to face yet. She just wanted to talk to Jack, but he was under enough stress already. She clenched her jaws, wiped her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. "I’m just not going to think about it yet," she whispered.

When she emerged from the restroom, Bonnie was waiting in the foyer with two small paper bags. "I couldn’t finish mine either," she said with a smile. "Let’s go move the supplies to my car so you can go."

Julie got the bags from her trunk and took them to Bonnie’s black BMW. "Here you go. I may have gotten a little too much, but we can always return the things we don’t use."

"You look better," Bonnie said, taking the bags and placing them in her trunk. "Would you like me to follow you home?"

"No, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s nothing." Julie said with a sigh.

Bonnie handed her a business card and an envelope with her advance and expense money. "We can sign the contract on Monday at the client’s home. Your rate with me right now is $30 an hour and I’ll adjust your quote accordingly. It will end up closer to $500, which is fair for the work I think."

"Thanks, Bonnie."

"It was lovely to meet you and I am really looking forward to working with you." There was a certain tension in her voice that seemed to imply something more. Her eyes darted between Julie’s eyes and lips, and Julie was suddenly concerned that Bonnie was about to try and kiss her.

"See you then," she said brightly as she stepped backwards, then returned to her car. When she pulled away, she saw Bonnie watching her until she drove out of sight.

***

L
ater that evening she was sitting on the floor in front of the computer at Jack’s apartment. She had replaced the money she had borrowed and was sketching ideas for the details in the room. The computer beeped and Julie saw she'd gotten an email from Jack that just said, "Hey! Where's my picture?"

She chuckled and selected the picture where she'd just pulled his underwear over to expose her outer lips closed in a thin, pink line. She attached the picture to an email with a smile and wrote, "I got a response from the ad already. The woman's named Bonnie Baker and I suspect she might be Sophie's decorator. She mentioned her client had two girls, six and three. Is she someone you remember?"

Jack replied almost immediately, "I think I remember her. Wedge haircut? Kinda butch?"

"That's her," Julie wrote. "She took me out to dinner tonight. Some kind of fancy place uptown. I offered to do the job for $300, but she raised my rate and offered some other work in the evenings. It kind of feels hinky, but I need the cash to fix my car. Did I mention the power steering pump is going out?"

Jack took longer to reply, so Julie worked on the sketch again while she waited. Her computer beeped and she read, "Love the pic! Please be careful, I'm worried about you. Shit, I feel so helpless out here. Take the emergency money if you need it for your car."

Julie wrote back, "I'm a big girl, but I'll be careful. Miss you. I'll email you again tomorrow."

After shutting down the computer, Julie sat on the couch and stared at the wall. Her thoughts flitted around the problems she faced, leaving her feeling tired and vulnerable. When the tears came, she let them fall and wet her face, but didn't sob.
I can handle it
, she told herself,
whatever happens. This is nothing compared to what happened with Bill.
As the memories pushed in, Julie closed her eyes and shook her head until the claustrophobic feeling they brought passed. It took a long time to fall asleep.

J
ulie was still perplexed when she arrived at the client’s home. When she had checked the address Bonnie gave her with the court documents in Jack’s apartment, the addresses didn’t match. Sophie used an address at an upscale apartment high-rise to help justify the child support Jack had to pay. Julie wondered if her desire for the client to be Sophie had blinded her, and that all her careful preparation for the murals would come to nothing.

The address was certainly no apartment. As she pulled in, she thought the first building she saw was the house, but as she pulled around the long curving driveway she saw it was actually a four-car garage with some kind of guest house or office on the second floor. The house itself was a sprawling two-story mansion that seemed to be built around and between the ancient trees.

Bonnie’s black BMW was already parked in the circle drive near the front door, so Julie pulled her sad little Honda in behind it, wincing at the noise it made as she turned the steering wheel. The double front doors were at least eight feet tall and was made out of a deep green enameled metal. The doors alone probably cost more than she made in a year. One swung open as Bonnie came out with a smile, dressed in a soft, stylish sweat suit with a colorful scarf around her neck.

"I’ve got you all set up in the playroom. I’ve moved the furniture into the center of the room and put drop cloths down all around. This is going to be so much fun!"

Julie wasn’t so sure about that, but she smiled gamely. "Let’s get started then. I remembered this morning that I forgot to ask about the current color of the walls."

"Luckily the walls are already a neutral white-ish color, so we shouldn’t have to worry about preparing the surface with a primer. I was hoping after you get it sketched on the wall you’d allow me to help apply the base colors with you. I haven’t done more than manage my business for over a year and want to get my hands wet." She emphasized "hands wet" in a way that could be taken in more than one way. Julie tried not to grimace at the thought.

As she walked through the home, Julie simply couldn’t believe her eyes. It was less a home than a kind of stylized impression of a home you’d find in a modern art museum. The furniture didn’t look comfortable, but it made Julie feel like she was walking through a gallery. She couldn’t imagine children living in the house. The sculptures and decor appeared either sharp and dangerous, or as fragile as icicles. There were expensive carpets that had the sheen of silk, where no crayon or marker would ever be welcome.