Chapter Eighteen
Pierce
I know the way to the Bowman Gallery, but I’ve still put the address into the navigation system in Harley’s car, just in case. That’s probably because I’m so hyped, I’m worried I’ll take a wrong turn, or just drive right past the place.
I’ve left Harley at the apartment, although she surprised me by coming home a little early from work, saying she’d finished up as soon as she could because she wanted to get back and help me.
“Help me with what?” I asked.
“I don’t know… I can help you choose what to wear, if you like.”
I hadn’t even thought about what I was going to wear, and I closed the store, taking her upstairs with me. We went straight through to the bedroom, and having clearly sensed my nerves, Harley sat me on the bed and handed me a pair of dark blue jeans and a smart white button-down shirt. As I stood and got undressed, she put the jeans on the bed and took the shirt from its hanger, rolling up the sleeves.
“Is that a good idea?” I said, assuming she’d chosen it to hide my tattoos.
“Why not? You don’t wanna look like you’re trying too hard.” She glanced up at me, lowering the shirt.
“That’s not what I meant,” I said as I held out my bare arms. “Karl Bowman is probably around the same age as my dad, and you know how he reacted to my tattoos.”
“So? Not everyone is the same. And besides, you should let him see the real you,” she said, and then leaned up to kiss me.
I liked that… not just the kiss, which was reassuring, but also the fact that she seemed to think Mr. Bowman would be impressed by the ‘real’ me.
She watched me dress, sitting on the edge of the bed and studying me, which ought to have felt unnerving, but was actually comforting, and once I was ready, she escorted me down the stairs.
“I’ll fix us something for dinner while you’re out,” she said.
“Okay.”
That sounded wonderfully domesticated, although I don’t know what she’s making for us… and I don’t care. I love the fact that she’s there, doing something for us, and that I’ll be going back to her.
I miss her – obviously.
I miss her every second I’m not with her. But, to be honest, I’m also preoccupied with what’s going to happen in the next hour or so. It could be the break I’ve been waiting for… or it could be nothing at all. I can’t be sure, and until I am, I don’t think I’ll be able to relax.
The traffic is fairly heavy, and I’m pleased I used the Sat/Nav now. It means I don’t have to focus too hard on where I’m going, which means I can also loosen up a little – or try to –and the easiest way is to let my mind drift to Harley, and the weekend we’ve just spent together.
I’ve been a little preoccupied, thinking about tonight, and I guess it didn’t help that I’ve had such a long time between receiving Karl Bowman’s invitation to come here, and the meeting itself. We’ve filled the time well, though, starting with Friday evening… which was spectacular.
What happened on the couch before dinner was mind-blowing. It’s interesting… that’s something I’ve done before, not just with Harley, but with other women, too, and it’s something I’ve always enjoyed, although I appreciate it’s not to everyone’s taste. I particularly enjoy the mutual satisfaction that’s involved, but until I did it with Harley on our first night together, I hadn’t fully appreciated the mutual intimacy that comes out of it, too. I guess that’s one of the many things that’s different about her. Everything is so much more intimate… and so much more intense. Coming in her mouth is wild. Doing that while she’s coming on my tongue is crazy. It’s like a whole body orgasm, and it’s beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. Just the thought of it makes me hard and I shift in my seat, trying to calm down, recalling our conversation with Ben.
It was something that had to be done. I didn’t feel right keeping our relationship from him. As I said to Harley at the time, it went better than I’d hoped, and after I carried her into the bedroom, and we’d undressed, I held her in my arms for a while, the two of us just staring into each other’s eyes.
“Can you believe Ben knew how I felt about you all along?” she said, her hands wandering up and down my arms.
“No, and in a way, I’m glad he kept it to himself.”
“Why?”
“Because I think I needed to get here by myself,” I said, caressing her cheek with the backs of my fingers. “I’m not just talking about the romance of what happened on Saturday night – before the accident, obviously – but the entire journey. I know it hasn’t been an easy ride for you, babe, listening to my stories all the time, but I think it means so much more that we found our own way here.” She nodded her head in agreement, although I found her silence a little worrying, and pulled her closer, asking, “Does it bother you?”
“Does what bother me?”
“My past.”
She shook her head. “I thought we’d already covered this.”
“I know, but I wanna be sure.”
She sucked in a breath, wrapping her legs around me. “You were right… it wasn’t easy. I hated hearing about each new woman, and how special, or beautiful, or desirable she was… and how you hoped she’d be ‘the one’. Although the worst thing by far was seeing you with Monica.”
I pulled away, leaning up and staring down at her. “You saw us?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“It was that Saturday… the day after you first told me about her.”
“I guess that makes sense.” I felt stupid for asking. “It would have had to be. I only had one date with her.”
She looked a little surprised. “Really?”
“Yeah. When I left her at her place on the Saturday night, we planned to meet up again a couple of days later, but by then I’d realized it was you I wanted to be with, so I canceled.”
“You left her at her place?” she echoed.
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t sleep with her?”
“No.” I kissed her, my tongue exploring for a while, and then I pulled back. “I didn’t sleep with her. We kissed on her doorstep, just to say goodnight, but it was nothing special.”
Harley nodded her head. “I assumed…”
“Uh-uh.” I kissed her again, taking a little longer, and then I gazed into her eyes. “Where did you see us?” I asked.
“At the Thai restaurant in Willmont Vale. I had a headache, but there were no painkillers in the house, so I’d gone to the drugstore to get some… and there you were.”
I shook my head. “You must have hated me.”
“No. Although I remember thinking how insensitive you were.”
“Why? I didn’t know you were there.”
“Not then. I’m talking about the night before, when you told me all about her. I was so upset. That was why I disappeared into the ladies’ room. I was close to crying, and I didn’t want you to see me.”
I pulled her close to my chest, holding her tight and stroking her hair. “I wish I’d known.”
“How could you have done?” she said, twisting her head and looking up at me.
“I don’t know, but I like to think I’d have done something.”
“You did. You made it worse when I came back to the booth.”
“Did I? How?” I frowned down at her, trying to remember.
“By asking me to have dinner with you… here. That was the last thing I needed, knowing you were besotted with someone else. But you seemed really keen, so I used the excuse of being tired. You offered to let me put my feet up while you did all the cooking, but that only made it worse. You were offering me friendship when I wanted love.”
Tears filled her eyes, and I kissed them away. “You’ve got it, babe. You’ve got my love. But I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
She raised her hand, placing her forefinger over my lips. “That’s the last time,” she said. “No more apologies. We’re together now, and what happened before doesn’t matter anymore.”
I pulled her hand away, kissing the palm. “It matters that I hurt you.”
“You didn’t mean to. That’s what’s important. And now I wanna forget about all that. We have each other, Pierce, and nothing can come between us.”
I shook my head. “Nothing,” I murmured, turning her onto her back and burying myself deep inside her, losing my mind, as well as my heart.
We fell asleep much later, in each other’s arms. That’s becoming normal for us, although I woke with a stiff back, wishing I didn’t have to work. I did, though, and while I showered, Harley prepared our breakfast. When I came out, she was wearing one of my t-shirts, and nothing else, and I knew how hard it was gonna be to go downstairs and separate myself from her. I wanted to stay with her, to hold her, to talk to her… to just be with her. But I couldn’t, and after breakfast, I kissed her and told her I’d see her at lunchtime, my hands wandering over her bare ass.
She nodded, licking her lips as I walked backwards to the top of the stairs, and then turned and went down, before I was tempted to stay.
I opened the store, which was busier than it had been of late, with a steady flow of customers for the first couple of hours. I’d just seen the most recent one from the premises when I turned and found Harley staring at me from behind the counter. She’d changed into jeans and a blouse, and although I regretted that, I could understand the necessity.
“What are you doing down here?” I asked, sauntering back toward her.
“Well,” she said, coming out and meeting me halfway. “I’ve showered, and tidied the apartment, and put on some laundry, so I thought I’d come and help.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I said, putting my hands on her waist and smiling down at her. “You’re tired.”
She leaned up and kissed me. “Be quiet,” she said. “And tell me what to do.”
I chuckled. “Kiss me some more.”
She giggled and did exactly that.
It was so much fun working with her, and although she left dealing with the customers to me, she was great at keeping the place tidy, and keeping me supplied with coffee and kisses.
We closed the store at four, as usual, and went upstairs, cooking dinner together, making a pasta bake, with more than enough left for another day. We stored that in the refrigerator, and fell into bed, both of us exhausted.
Sunday, my back was a lot better, as was Harley’s leg, and although we were both tempted to take advantage of that and spend the day in bed, being a lot more vigorous than we’d allowed ourselves until then, we also felt like going out. So, after we’d showered, we wandered over to the coffee shop for a late breakfast, which was lovely. We took our time, only leaving when they were about to close, and then we went for a walk along the creek. The weather was a lot better, and I’d brought a small sketch pad with me, so we sat together for a while, and I drew my very first picture of Harley. She made an excellent model, sitting still, and doing exactly as I told her, and although I’m not the best at life drawing, I was pleased with the result. I’d only drawn her head and shoulders, but I felt as though I’d captured the essence of her, and she seemed to like it, too.
“I’d like to draw you nude one day,” I said, as we got to our feet, heading for home.
“Really?” She seemed surprised.
“Yes. Only if you agree, of course.”
“As long as you don’t show it to anyone else,” she said, sounding shy, and I held her a little tighter against me as we walked along.
“Hell would have to freeze over before I’d show anyone something like that. It’s between us.”
“Good. In that case…” She let her voice fade, and I put my mind to deciding how to sketch her. It wasn’t easy. After all, how do you do justice to perfection?
It was late afternoon by the time we got home, and although I was keen to put my ideas into practice, Harley had other thoughts in mind, and almost as soon as we’d reached the top of the stairs, she pulled my t-shirt off, over the top of my head.
I smiled down at her, knowing what she wanted, and took her hand, leading her to the couch. I undressed her, then pulled off my jeans, and as neither of us was wearing any underwear, we were soon naked, and I sat down, pulling her with me, onto my lap. It was the work of seconds to grab a condom from my wallet and roll it over my cock, and Harley watched, wide-eyed, before she straddled me, taking me deep inside her, and letting out a low groan of satisfaction as she ground her hips in a slow circular motion.
“Didn’t you tell me the stretch would get less noticeable after the first time?” she said, raising herself up, resting her hands on my shoulders for leverage, and then lowering herself down again, whimpering as she did so.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Well, it hasn’t.”
I held her still, my hands on her waist. “Is that a problem? Does it hurt?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I like it. I like having you deep inside me, too.”
She ground her hips again, her head rocking back, and I pulled her down even harder, raising my hips at the same time, making her gasp. “Like that?” I said, and she nodded her head.
“Do that again.”
I did, over and over, faster and faster, until she came apart in my arms. I wasn’t ready to come, but once she’d calmed, I held her for a while, and then I heated the leftover pasta bake, which we took through to the bedroom, eating in bed.
Afterwards, we made love again, neither of us looking forward to the start of another working week, and determined to make the most of the end of that perfect day together.
Needless to say, it came as quite a shock to return to work yesterday, but we texted each other roughly every hour, and rather than our text messages being about missing each other and love, like they had been last week, they were a lot spicier.
I started that, telling Harley I couldn’t wait for her to get home so she could change out of her work clothes and into one of my hoodies.
Her reply took about ten minutes to come in, but when it did, I had to smile.
— Just a hoodie? xx
— Yeah. Just a hoodie and nothing else. Although I doubt you’ll be wearing it for long. xx
— Why? xx
She was teasing, and I could imagine her sitting at her desk with a smile on her face.
It matched my own as I typed out my reply.
— Because I wanna get you naked, sit you up on the kitchen countertop, and take you so hard, you’ll be begging me to stop. xx
I pressed ‘send’, hoping I hadn’t gone too far. After ten minutes, I was on the verge of sending an apology when her reply came in.
— Sorry about the delay. I had to clean up my desk. Your message made me spit coffee everywhere. xx
I laughed and typed out…
— Sorry about that. xxx
— Don’t be. But if you think I’ll be begging you to stop, you don’t know me at all. xx
— Yes, I do. I know you better than anyone. xx
— Then you should know I’ll be begging you for more. xx
— I hope so. I love you, babe. xx
— I love you. xx
That’s what it was like all day yesterday, and today… although today Harley’s also included words of encouragement about tonight’s meeting, knowing my nerves would be building as the day passed… because she knows me better than anyone, too.
The Sat/Nav interrupts my thoughts, telling me to take the next left, which I do, realizing I’ve reached my destination before the automated voice tells me.
I park outside the fairly imposing building, the engine still running for a moment. It’s bigger than I remember, although I haven’t been here since before I went to college, and I switch off the engine and get out of the car, only now realizing that the building before me has been extended, which explains a lot.
I walk up the wide steps, pushing open the glass door, and come face to face with a man in a well-fitting suit.
He steps forward, holding out his hand, which I take, giving him a firm shake.
“I’m Karl Bowman,” he says.
“Pierce Barton.” I feel like I’m stating the obvious, but so was he, and he nods his head.
“I’ll just lock this door.” He pulls a set of keys from his pocket, going to the door behind me. “Most of the staff have already left for the day,” he says, explaining his actions.
“Won’t the ones who are still here need to get out?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “There’s a staff entrance at the back,” he says, pocketing the keys again as he turns to face me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see you during working hours, but we’re incredibly busy right now.”
“That’s okay. This suited me better.”
I study him as he walks back. He’s nothing like Kaiden. His hair is much darker, for one thing, as are his eyes. He’s a well-built man, who clearly takes care of himself, though, and as he leads me out of the lobby, through a door at the back, marked ‘Private’, I decide it’s best to make conversation.
“I haven’t been here for a while,” I say as we head down a wide, well-lit corridor. “But I see you’ve made a lot of changes.”
He looks at me over his shoulder, giving me a smile. “We had the entire place re-modeled about four years ago.” He opens a door to his right, pausing on the threshold. “It was a risk, but it’s paid off.”
I nod my head, passing through the door, which he closes behind us, and I look around the room, which seems to be his office, although it’s not like any office I’ve ever been in before. There’s a desk, I’ll admit, but it’s white, as is the chair behind it. That’s nowhere near as striking as the walls, though, one of which is bright orange, while another is a dark teal. That ought to be overpowering, but it works, because the colors are broken up by the windows, and the placement of a few abstract paintings… and the fact that the remaining two walls are white.
The furniture is just as brightly colored, and my eyes fall on a set of armchairs. There’s one in shocking pink, another in orange, another bright yellow and the final one in cyan. They’re set around a low coffee table, over by the biggest of the windows, and it’s there that Mr. Bowman leads me.
“Take a seat,” he says, selecting the yellow chair for himself.
I choose the orange one, which is opposite, and while Mr. Bowman unfastens his jacket, making himself comfortable, I cross one leg over the other, resting my hand on my knee. That puts my tattoos firmly on display, and while I’m not sure that’s a good idea, it’s too late now. Besides, Harley told me to be myself, so why not?
“I’m sorry for contacting you out of the blue,” Mr. Bowman says. “But I’ll be honest with you… we’ve got a problem.”
“Oh?” I hadn’t expected that, and I uncross my legs, sitting forward.
“Yes. We’ve had an artist pull out of an exhibition, and we’re looking to fill the gap.”
I can’t help feeling disappointed, but I do my best to hide it. “Is that where I come in?” I ask.
He nods his head. “I saw your work on your social media page, and I thought you’d make the perfect replacement.”
“I see.”
He shakes his head, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s not like that,” he says, as though he’s read my mind, sensing my disappointment. “I didn’t even realize you were out there, doing what you do, but now I’ve found you, I’d have asked you to exhibit here anyway… just later in our schedule. The thing is, as you’re local, I thought you might be able to help us.”
“I’ve never done an exhibition before,” I say, feeling a little less insulted now he’s explained the situation. “What would be involved?”
He smiles. “We’re looking to fill our main gallery for a month.”
“The main gallery? But that’s enormous… or it is if it’s the one I remember.”
“It is. We haven’t changed it… at least, not in terms of its size. That’s why I need to ask how many canvasses you have available.”
I wish I’d thought to count them now, but I give it a moment’s thought and say, “I guess somewhere between thirty and forty. Some are a lot bigger than others.”
“The bigger the better,” he says, smiling. “Do you think you could come up with a few more?”
“That depends. When were you thinking of holding this exhibition?”
“It’s due to start July first.”
My stomach churns. “Just over a month away?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Not in terms of the paintings I already have, but in terms of adding any more, it could be.”
“Oh?”
“I might be able to come up with two or three in that time.”
He looks disappointed. “Is that all?”
“I only have the weekends to paint… and by weekends, I mean Sundays.”
He frowns. “You mean you work the rest of the time?”
“Yes. In an antiques store. My girlfriend’s parents own it.” I smile, liking how that sounds, and he nods his head.
“I see. Well, I hope they won’t mind if you have to leave, because if this exhibition goes well, your situation could be about to change… drastically.”
“It could?”
“Yes. I’ve seen what you sell your canvasses for. We’d be looking to market them for at least six times that price… probably a lot more for the larger pieces.”
“B—But that could put some of them well into four figures.”
“I know. Trust me, they’re worth it.”
I’m pretty sure I’m blushing, but he doesn’t say anything. He just smiles at me. “Obviously, we take a forty percent cut of everything that sells through the exhibition, but that’s industry standard.”
I know it is, and I nod my head, still reeling and trying to take in the fact that if I sell a painting for five thousand dollars, even after the gallery takes their cut, I’ll still have three thousand in the bank. That’s just for one painting. If I only sold a quarter of what I’ve got…
My head spins, just thinking about it. “Are you sure my work is worth that much?” I ask, and he nods his head.
“I’m positive. You also need to remember your rate for commissions would be significantly higher after this.”
I hadn’t thought about that, but I guess he’s right, and I sit back, feeling a little overwhelmed.
“When do you need a decision?” I ask.
“I hate to press you, but as soon as possible.”
“In that case, I agree.” I’d be a fool not to.
He grins, getting up from his seat and coming over to me, his hand outstretched. I stand, and we shake, Mr. Bowman patting me on the arm.
“Thank you,” he says, although I can’t believe he just said that.
“It should be me thanking you.”
“Not at all. You’ve saved us from the embarrassment of having an empty gallery.”
“Was there a reason the other artist pulled out at such short notice?” I ask as he steps back, looking awkward, and I wonder if I’ve hit a raw nerve.
“It’s… It’s to do with my son,” he says, going to the window and staring out. “He works for me.”
“I know. I went to school with him.”
He flips around, tipping his head to one side. “Of course. That makes sense, now I come to think about it. Kaiden’s mom moved to Hart’s Creek after we divorced… although I don’t recall him mentioning your name.”
“We weren’t particular friends,” I say, hoping he won’t take offense, and he nods his head.
“Well… I should probably tell you what’s happened, just in case you hear rumors from someone else, especially as we’re still trying to get to the bottom of it all.” He comes closer again, lowering his voice, even though we’re the only people here. “The thing is, the artist concerned has filed a complaint of inappropriate behavior against Kaiden. There’s a sexual nature to her accusations, which was serious enough for her to withdraw from exhibiting here.”
“Has she involved the police?” I ask, wondering if I’ve made the right decision to accept his offer, or if I’m about to embroil myself in some kind of scandal.
“No. She says she doesn’t want to, but sweeping it under the carpet isn’t an option – for her, or for us. At the moment, she’s leaving it for us to investigate internally, so I’ve suspended Kaiden and my deputy is looking into this woman’s claims. Naturally, I can’t do it myself. I have to remain impartial. And in any case, I’ve got my hands full trying to salvage what I can in terms of our finances and our reputation. Your exhibition will help with that. Naturally, if it transpires Kaiden has done what this woman is accusing him of, he won’t have a place here anymore.”
I nod my head, realizing why Kaiden has been hanging around in Hart’s Creek, rather than working.
“Have I put you off?” Mr. Bowman asks.
“No. You’re not responsible for Kaiden’s actions. I… I suppose I just need to know you’re handling it appropriately, and I guess I’d like some reassurance that there won’t be any negative fallout.”
“I can understand that, and there won’t, I can assure you. The artist doesn’t want any publicity, and neither do we. It won’t be helpful to any of us. She just wants the matter cleared up, and it will be, believe me. Kaiden may be my son, but we’ll find out what happened and take action. We can’t afford not to.”
“Okay.”
“So, you’re happy to continue?” I nod my head and he smiles. “In that case, I’ll get my people to look at a social media campaign. We’ll need to get that started in the next couple of days, and there are few things I’ll need from you…”