Chapter Three
Gemma
S hadows were beginning to creep into the gallery when the last of the visitors exited the building. I’d been kept busy with the many pieces that had sold for a very good profit.
The buyers had been beyond enthusiastic.
I only wished I could afford one of the pieces myself. I’d fallen in love with many of them when I’d had the chance to take a look at them as I’d written down the names of each piece and their corresponding code so that each one would be shipped off to their respective new owners.
That I hadn’t seen Gregory all day was beyond odd. He’d seemingly hidden in his office, away from the eager art crowd. So unlike him. I’d been expecting him to preen over our up-and-coming artist’s works, his face beaming as he welcomed in all the prospective buyers.
I shut and locked the doors, then sagged a little, just as I heard the heavy, familiar tread of Gregory from behind me. I turned, a smile on my face. “Well, I’d say that was a rousing—”
I didn’t finish my sentence. I blinked at Gregory’s sullen glare, his rigid spine offset by his slumped shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“You didn’t think to tell me that you knew the artist personally?”
I frowned. “What? I don’t know him. I only know his name and the contact email I was given from an associate of his.”
“Is that right?” Gregory gritted out, “because he sure as shit seems to know you.”
My frown deepened, along with barely stifled irritation. “What do you mean? What is this all about?”
He pushed a hand over his face. “Allow me to show you something.”
I nodded, then followed him past the portraits, whose lifelike eyes seemed to follow us as we went. I repressed a little chill even before we stopped in front of the extra-large portrait with a red, Not for Sale sticker emblazoned across the bottom corner of the gold frame.
I blinked, then blinked again, my breath stalling in my lungs while my mouth went bone dry. The portrait was like peering into a mirror. It showcased my face, my bared shoulders and breasts, though my nipples were barely noticeable thanks to the shadow that shrouded me from behind.
A shadow that was clearly a man.
Though his features were blurry and indistinct I knew exactly who he was.
Evander.
I took a step back, the room doing a slow spin around me.
I had no idea how much the artist had been paid to paint me and the shadowy silhouette of Evander behind me, but it must have cost a small fortune. That it showcased us as lovers was more than evident by the feral lust glittering in my eyes, my head that was titled back and my partly-opened mouth as I succumbed to the mastery of my lover behind me.
Little wonder Gregory had stayed cooped up in his office. Though he’d decided I was his, this one artwork negated his belief in just a few profound strokes of the brush. The painting was undeniably seductive and beautiful all at the same time, capturing the essence of my and Evander’s earth-shattering passion to perfection.
“Well?” Gregory asked bitterly. “What do you have to say?”
It took a moment for me to speak, a moment to think beyond my dazed confrontation of a past I’d been trying so hard to forget. A past that had featured Evander in it. The fact the painting had turned up in the gallery I ran told me everything I needed to know.
He’d damn well found me!
I managed to shrug, though my entire being felt strung out and on edge. “What can I say? Clearly Chase Holland was commissioned to paint me and a man I used to see.”
“A m-man you used t-to see?” Gregory spluttered. “Who exactly was that man?”
I frowned, overwhelmed by the emotions that spun out-of-control inside me. “Why does that matter? He’s in my past now and I fail to see why you’d need to know.”
Gregory crossed his arms, his lips thinning. “I never would have exhibited Chase Holland if I’d known one of his paintings showcased such a provocative piece of one of my workers.”
I pushed back a sudden burst of anger. He would have cared less had it featured any one of his other workers. He only cared that it’d been me. “I worked my ass off for this exhibition, and you’ve made stellar commissions of the artworks, all of which have sold.”
“All except for the one centerpiece featuring you,” he said scathingly.
“I should be the one who is angry, not you! But since our elusive Chase Holland isn’t here to question how he got a picture of me to paint, I’m not going to dwell on it. He is renowned for being reclusive almost as much as he is renowned for his stunning portraits. We were extremely lucky he chose this boutique gallery to feature his latest works.”
Gregory narrowed his eyes. “And why do you think he chose this gallery?” he asked brusquely.
“If you’re suggesting I had something to do with it, think again. I reached out to him sight unseen.”
Gregory nodded slowly, then conceded, “Perhaps he researched your name after you contacted him. When he saw some of your photos on social media, he decided he needed to paint you.” His eyes crinkled at the sides. “You do have an exceptional profile.”
I didn’t reply. I no longer had the energy to defend myself against his fixation with me. I’d been happy here losing myself in my work, doing everything in my power to forget about Evander and everything in my past, and then, bam , one painting showcasing our passion, and I was back to square one.
I had no doubt now Evander had found me.
I had no doubt now I’d have to move on.
I had no choice but to leave behind everything and start again.
If I had the energy to cry I would have, but I needed to preserve it while I decided on my next plan.
I walked out of the gallery, Gregory walking alongside me as though he belonged there. I barely withheld a grimace as he held my elbow with a proprietary hand. It wasn’t until I turned to him outside the doors that I shrugged his hand off and said, “I thought I’d made it clear, Gregory. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m not interested—“
“In me?” he interjected. “Is that what you’re saying?”
My patience was hanging by a thread. “I was going to say I’m not interested in any man.”
His dull blue eyes sharpened, then narrowed, the dim afternoon somehow exacerbating his weak chin and thinning hair. “But you are still interested in the shadowed man in the painting, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “Don’t answer that, I could tell right away you still have feelings for him.”
“Maybe I do,” I said, my voice cooling. “But I’ve learned there are some things in life people can’t have, no matter how much they wish otherwise.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to know how that feels.” His breath hissed out, his eyes turning flinty and hard. “You do still want this job, don’t you?”
I inhaled through my teeth, disbelief filling me from the inside out. “Are you threatening me?”
“Threatening you?” He laughed coarsely. “Fi, sweetheart. You know me better than that, I’m a good guy, I’d never hurt you.”
Unless I gave him reason. He didn’t need to say it, the implication hung heavy in the air. I almost snorted. He wasn’t to know I was planning on leaving. I’d play along with him and see where he was going with his...threat.
“I’ve managed this gallery for you, did extra time without pay, gone above and beyond for you and the artists who exhibited here.”
“That’s right, you have,” he acknowledged. “But don’t think for a second you’re indispensable. I’m sure there are plenty of young, starry-eyed graduates who’d love to take over from you.”
I lifted my hand and struck him hard across the face, the slap resounding in the still air. “Bastard,” I hissed. I wasn’t holding back anymore. “Have fun trying to find someone as dedicated as me. I. Fucking. Quit.”
He gaped at me even as he touched the red imprint of my hand on his cheek. “You’ll be back,” he snarled, his voice edged with an inkling of disquiet.
Huh . Guess I wasn’t quite as dispensable as he pretended.
I spun away, my shoes clattering as I hurried down the steps. My vision distorted as tears threatened. After everything I’d done for him and his business, this was how he repaid me? The only positive to come out of it was that I had no choice but to leave, so his opinion hardly mattered anyway.
A shiver suddenly trickled down my spine even as the hairs on the back of my neck lifted. I turned around, my senses sharpening and my eyes drying. Gregory was already walking away.
Someone else watched me, I was certain of it.
Evander? I couldn’t, wouldn’t think about it. I swiped a hand over my face, angry at myself, at the world. I was letting everything get to me, Gregory’s actions disturbing me on a deeper level...a level I’ve been trying so hard to forget.