AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She says you’ve taken on things I used to handle. She’s considering leaving.” Marnie’s voice lacks manners. I might deserve that.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Okay, maybe I do know, and it has nothing to do with Portia or her performance.
“Where were you the last couple of days?” She really is pissed.
“California.” I lean against the seat, closing my eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“And where was Portia?”
“How the fuck do I know?” I’m ready to hang up.
“She should have been in California. With you or alone, because she can handle the negotiations. Since when have you started micromanaging?”
Since I trapped myself with Mila. Everything has shifted on its axis since her smile, her scent, her voice, her body invaded my space. I can’t find my equilibrium, and I hate that. Working, I can be myself. I can at least pretend things are as they are supposed to be.
“I got to go, Marnie.” I hang up, because I won’t explain my current funk to her. She has no right interfering.
I make several phone calls on the way to Andrea’s house, fighting fatigue. This back and forth between several time zones is taking its toll.
When we finally arrive in Chelsea, I’m more ready to shower and sleep than tackle the issues with my brother, or any other normal functioning.
Of course, the fucker takes his time opening the door. When it finally flings open, I regret coming over immediately. He squints at me, blinded by the sun, and probably suffocating in the sudden intake of fresh air.
The odor coming from him and his place gags me. I push past him and get to the kitchen to start his espresso machine, while opening all the blinds and windows on my way. Like a vampire, he scurries around, shielding his face.
“What do you want?” He leans against the kitchen doorway.
I down a small espresso. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Many things, but I don’t need you to come and remind me.” He trudges into his sitting room and plops on the couch. “Go away.”
I make myself another coffee and empty the tiny cup immediately. Fuck the jetlag. Andrea has struggled with substance abuse since we were teenagers. It got worse after his first exhibition, but after a not so voluntary stint in rehab, he’d been doing well. Clearly, that is no longer the case.
“Listen, dumbass, get your shit together. This struggling artist shit is getting old. Especially since you’re rich and successful. Seriously, what’s your problem?”
He snorts. “Fuck you. I didn’t sell one piece that night.”
“Yeah, idiot, because you’re set on destroying your career. Why would you hijack your own opening? Violet Mathison is one of the best in town, and you scared away all the potential buyers. How bad is it?”
He turns to face the backrest of the sofa and rolls into the fetal position.That bad. I let out a long breath and drag my hand down my face.
“Andrea, if you don’t deal with this shit, I’m bringing Mother over.” A low blow, but I don’t have patience for his shit right now. He clearly needs help, though.
He growls. “Go away.”
“Yeah, you said that already. Let’s get you to the clinic, bro. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, okay?”
“I can handle it.” He tries to roll to face me but ends up on the floor, and starts chuckling like a lunatic.
“Are you drunk or high right now? Or both?” I stand above him with my hands on my hips, fighting the urge to kick him. Irresponsible asshole.
“You’re just jealous because I kissed your lady.” He pushes off the floor and sways, smirking at me.
“Shut up, you idiot. That’s not why I’m here. But for the record, you pull something like that one more time and I’ll fucking kill you.” I’m not even kidding right now. Mila is mine, and I know he was just being an asshole, but I won’t stand for him disrespecting her or me like that.
“Look at you, Mr. Nobody-wants-me-for-me, you’re in love.” He collapses back to the sofa, laughing. Bastard.
“I’m not.” I walk away, looking for a box. I collect all the bottles I can find in the house.
