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Of course, he knows where we live. Christopher is a damn Senator, for heaven’s sake. “Shit.”
I lean back again, closing my eyes. What am I going to say to Christopher? I can’t just say, “Hey, babe. How was your day? Oh, mine wasgreat. I was threatenedat the studiotoday because you threatened some big guy’s boss!”
I hold my breath, lifting my glass in the air, and slide below the water’s surface.
I decide to lounge in the family room, wearing a silk robe and my most comfortable pajamas. After refilling my glass with the rest of the bottle of wine, I tuck my bare feet beneath me and wait for Christopher to come home.
The sound of Christopher’s key sliding into the lock on the front door filters through my ears. I still don’t know exactly what I’m going to say. I have a feeling the wine will do most of the talking.
He comes in with his tie undone, the top two buttons on his dress shirt open and sleeves rolled up. He looks tired, with bags under his eyes and tension in his shoulders.
Has he looked this stressed lately?
Why haven’t I noticed that?
He drops his briefcase off at the entry table and walks past the family room before stopping suddenly and turning towards me.
I take a deep breath.Here goes nothing. “Hey, love. How was your day?” I look up to meet his eyes in the dimly lit family room.
“Just busy and stressful. How was yours?”
Taking a deep breath, I decide to lay it all out there. Pull the Band-Aid off and see what his reaction is.
“Well, I had a rather interesting day with an unexpected visitor to the studio.”
His eyes flash with something I can’t quite read. “What does that mean?”
I sit up quickly on the couch so I can better face him. “A strange man came into the studio and threatened us. He said if you didn’t back off his boss, you would regret it.”
Christopher takes a step towards me with his hands firmly planted on his hips. “What the fuck are you talking about, Andrea? What man?”
His immediate anger, instead of concern, has my blood pressure rising. I’m barely able to contain my temper and fight the red wine threatening to make my lips looser.
I rise to my feet with my finger pointed towards his chest. “What am I talking about?! What is he talking about, Christopher? He not only threatenedyou! He told me I needed to get the hell away from you!”
His face pales at my words, and there’s a flash of rage in his eyes before he reigns it in and replaces his expression with one of indifference. I know whatever is about to come out of his mouth isn’t going to be the truth. Not believing that any of this is happening, confused and hurt by his reaction. I try a different tactic, softening my voice.
“Do I need to be worried, Christopher? Should I be looking over my shoulder? Are you in danger?”
He seems to dismiss my concern with a flick of his wrist and a condescending tone. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, Andrea. There is no threat.”
That’s it. I completely lose any thread of control I might’ve had, and let’s just say, I didn’t start with a boatload of it.
"Right. No threat, okay. Tell that to the huge mother fucker who was aninch from my face, Christopher! Better still, I will send him to your office if he decides to pay me another visit!"
Done with this conversation and more than ready for bed, I stumble my way up the stairs. I was half surprised by my outburst, but mostly proud.
Chapter 3
Iwakeinthemorning with a pounding headache.
Maybe the entire bottle wasn’t the best idea.
Christopher isn’t beside me in bed. I’m not sure if he ever came to bed last night. I don’t know if I’m angrier at him for the situation he’s gotten us in—even though I’m still not clear what the situation actually is—or at myself for being worried about him and where he is.
I sit up—ouch—the pounding inside my head is relentless. I rub at my temple, trying to relieve the ache. I click the remote to turn the T.V. on the news like I do most mornings. Then I head to the bathroom to find something for this headache. Opening the medicine cabinet, I whisper, “yes,” when I find the ibuprofen. I cup my hand under the faucet, getting just enough water to wash down the pills. Sweet relief is on its way.
Today is a busy day, and I need to pull it together. We have several private bookings, and I have a lunch set with a potential artist. There are some higher priced pieces we’re trying to build hype around, and we offer private showings for those. The artist is a sought-after artist we would love to feature at our studio.
