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Shrugging off her touch, I pointed to the easel. “As you can see, it’s almost done. You could’ve sa
ved yourself a trip if you waited till I called. It’ll be ready in a few days.”
“Oh, nonsense,” she waved a hand, “it’s no trouble at all. The drive isn’t that long.”
It was over an hour. I knew, because I’d had to deliver a piece to her home once. She opened the door wearing nothing. I knew I should have severed ties with her then and there, but I didn’t sleep with her and I was never going to sleep with her. Our relationship was strictly professional and no flirting on her part could change that.
“It’s beautiful, Cael!” She gasped cooing over the painting of her dog.
Yes, I had stooped so low as to paint a fucking pug.
Well, I guess I did a lot worse things than paint a pug.
“Nugget looks so cute! You captured the emotion in her eyes perfectly!”
Who the hell names their dog Nugget? And emotion in the dog’s eyes? Was she batshit crazy? It was a fucking dog! What kind of emotion did it have?
I didn’t say any of that, though. I did my job and played along.
“Yes, the emotion. The love shining in her eyes has touched my heart,” I patted my chest, trying not to laugh at my ridiculous words.
“You’re an amazing artist.” She surprised me by wrapping her arms around me in a hug. I didn’t return the gesture.
“Uh…” I muttered when thirty seconds later she hadn’t released me. “You can let go now.”
“Oh, right.” She released me. Turning back to the painting, she said, “Do you think you could deliver it when it’s done?”
Since she couldn’t see me, I wasted no time rolling my eyes. After the last time, I wasn’t going there again.
“Sorry, no delivery service anymore. You’ll have to either come pick it up or pay for it to be shipped.”
“Not a problem,” her voice was husky and seductive sounding, but even in my worst state it had never done anything for me. “I’ll drop back by and pick it up when it’s ready. I already have something else for you.”
“Of course you do,” I muttered, unable to keep the words bottled inside.
“It’s my goal to have my entire house covered in your art.”
God, she was ridiculous. I would’ve thought after a year of this that she’d know by now that I wasn’t going to sleep with her. I wasn’t that desperate. Besides, she was probably fucking her pool boy and gardener and…the list was endless. A woman like this didn’t just want one man to have an affair with.
“I’m sure your husband would really enjoy having watercolors all over his house.”
Laughing, she said, “Oh, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about a lot of things,” her voice dropped low. She stalked towards me and I suddenly felt like I was prey she was about to devour. Her hands found my chest and she tried to yank my shirt off. God, couldn’t the woman take a fucking hint that I wasn’t interested. I really wished I was drunk, because then I could blame my reaction on that.
I grabbed her wrists in my hands and squeezed as I pried her hands from my clothes. “Don’t fucking touch me, Monique.”
“Oh, come on.” She was relentless, trying to kiss my neck.
“Stop,” I growled, shoving her away. Her mouth fell open in shock as she stumbled back. She strap of her dress fell off her shoulder and she hastily replaced it.
“You need to leave.” My voice was deadly calm. I wanted her out of my apartment, and I didn’t care if she ever came back. Her behavior was ridiculous. “I’m not going to fuck you, so just get over it.”
She stuck her nose in the air haughtily and strode towards the door—her five-inch heels clacking on the floor. Seriously, how did women walk in those?
She threw the door open and turned back to me. “I won’t be needing your services anymore, Cael.”
Surprise, surprise.
“You still owe me for this time,” I told her, throwing my thumb over my shoulder towards the easel.
