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“Oh, hi!” he says. “I’m Robert, Sean Moore’s assistant.” When I just stand there staring blankly at him, he clears his throat and continues. “Of Moore Pharmaceuticals. I’ve been sent to collect a couple of paintings in person.”
He grins, shaking his head. “Could you run along and get them for me? Moore was so impressed by the original painting Mr. Lewis showed him the picture of that he couldn’t wait any longer to get his hands on a few of the finished pieces.”
He thinks I’m Dante’s secretary? And what picture?
Robert winks and leans in a little closer, as if telling a secret. “Don’t tell your boss, but Moore knows he did the right thing by refusing to buy the property your boss was selling unless he got those paintings. He hasn’t stopped bragging about the stunning redhead from the original painting, and then she turned out to be his artist.” He pauses for a second, tilting his head, then his eyes widen. “Oh…is that you? Are you the artist?”
“Fuck.”
Dante’s curse is quiet, but I still hear him. I don’t think it was loud enough for Robert to hear. At least, if he did, he doesn’t show it.
“Give me a minute,” I say through gritted teeth and close the door in Robert’s face.
“So,” I say, dragging out the word as I turn to Dante. “You clearly have no problems pimpingmeout for deals.”
His eyes darken. “And clearlyyouwant more of what you don’t have or you wouldn’t have taken this deal,” he growls.
“Bullshit,” I practically shout. “I was fair and honest with you. I took this deal because you needed me to help and I because I wanted to give Stella the earnings so she could get the studio she wants. I was never dishonest about it! Not like you!”
He takes a couple of steps toward me and glances meaningfully down at my suitcase. “And now that you’re almost done, you’re leaving. Just like I knew you would.”
I let out a long sigh and shake my head, reaching for the doorknob. But I don’t take my eyes off him. I want him to look into my eyes as I tell him how I really feel.
“You’re right, Dante. I am leaving. But it’s not money or property that I wanted more of. It was you.” I pause, watching his tight expression. “Until you changed my mind.”
When I open the door, Robert is still standing there. I mumble an “Excuse me” and leave before the tears building behind my eyes can fall.
Chapter Twenty-Six
DANTE
“You can do whatever you want in life. Never reach for the stars, my son, when you can have the entire moon!”
“But there are a lot of stars and only one moon,” I say with a little frown.
“True. But if you have the moon, you command the sky and the Earth.”
Later, I’m woken up by a sound and follow it to the living room. I know what I’m going to see. I’ve had this dream, this memory, a thousand times. I’m surprised I even realize I’m dreaming and that I still go to the window and look out.
Only this time, it’s not my mom driving away. Suddenly, the dream shifts and I’m in my penthouse with Kylie standing, suitcase in hand, by the door. I watch, feeling just as helpless as I did when I was nine, as Kylie walks out the door and out of my life.
I wake up with a curse. Damn it! It’s bad enough when I dream about the time my mom walked out on us, but now I’m dreaming about Kylie leaving me, too?
Turning on my side, I punch my pillow into shape and lay back down. It’s been three days since she left and still sleep doesn’t come easy, if at all. I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning. After a few hours, I give up the fight and sit up.
Dropping my head into my hands, I close my eyes and try to clear my mind. But all I can see is Kylie walking out that door and never coming back.
“Fuck!” I roar and swipe my hand across my nightstand. A designer vase worth a few thousand dollars crashes to the floor, but I don’t care. Getting out of bed, I walk over to the dresser along the wall and stare at my image in the mirror.
My eyes look haunted, with dark bags beneath them and frown lines marring the center of my brow. I’m tired, unable to sleep since the day she left. With another curse, I grab the blue pearl vase sitting on the dresser and throw it across the room. The sound of it shattering doesn’t do much to alleviate my anger.
Anger and frustration are written all over my actions, but the problem is I don’t understand why I’m angry. I should be happy that I have my life back the way it was before. I don’t have to worry about anyone being in my home… changing things around my house.
Hell, I don’t have to worry about all the damn questions and unnecessary conversation.
Though, the moment those thoughts cross my mind, I realize I don’t like the silence as much as I once did. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, trying to understand why my head is a mix of confusion and… I pause. I open my eyes slowly, realizing that over the past few weeks, I did enjoy the things I once hated. My house is filled with nothing but anger, despair, and a mixture of cold hatred for a life I once had.
A life that I spent searching for what I assumed was missing...power and money. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. She’s what's been missing all along.
