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“Mr. Carter speaking.”
“Sir,” Catiya’s panicked voice rushes out. “There’s been a problem—”
“I don’t have time for this, I’m at my kids’ art show,” I huff, resting my hand on my hip loosely.
“I know, I... I wouldn’t be calling unless it was... important, but the board have called an emergency meeting. I think they’re staging a coup.”
My eyes drop from Harmony’s and I spin around, looking out of the window that leads onto the balcony.
“Fuck,” I spit out. I knew something like this was going to happen, it was only a matter of time. Pete, I can guarantee that it’s Pete that’s done this. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” I say angrily, ending the call and turning back around to face Harmony. “I have to—”
“Go.” She finishes for me.
I step closer and walk past her, stopping when we’re side by side. My nostrils flare as her scent wraps around me, lulling me into a false sense of security as I lift my hand. I desperately want to touch her but I know that it’s not my place, it hasn’t been for a very long time.
Her eyes beg me to but warn me not to all at the same time.
She’s playing a game.
I let my hand drop at the voice inside my head and pull my shoulders back before leaving her and jogging down the stairs.
Jesse & Joy—Echoes Of Love
Jasmine Thompson—Oasis
I hear his footsteps receding, each one echoing throughout the space as I stare at the painting he was standing in front of in shock.
His children's art show? He has kids here?
My heart won’t stop thumping like the beat of a drum, and I raise my hand as if holding my chest will stop it from beating its way out. I never expected him to be on the other end of those combat boots I saw disappearing up the stairs.
I was stopped by around six people before finally climbing the stairs and spotting him standing there, invading my privacy. I was about to give him what for until he turned around, his angry expression stopping me in my tracks.
Angry at me? I should be the one that’s angry at him, but I can’t deny that he looks even better than I remember; my memory did not do him justice.
The white t-shirt he was wearing was taut against his muscled chest, and the dark blue jeans left nothing to the imagination
clinging to his muscular thighs. He’s filled out a lot since I last saw him. He was always athletic, but now he’s all man instead of the twenty-two-year-old I once knew.
My legs wobble as I walk over toward the stool in front of the painting and sit down, staring at the floor, pulling in deep angry breaths. After ten years, after putting me through all of the pain, he has the audacity to turn up at my work without so much as a phone call. How dare he! And on tonight of all nights!
I’m angry, but most of all, I’m hurt that he walked out of here without so much as an explanation of why he left me all those years ago.
The voices from downstairs trickle into my mind like runny honey soothing my dark thoughts; I can’t slip back into that teenage frame of mind again. I stand and cover up the painting of the willow tree—our willow tree—determined to steady my shaking hands and get my emotions under control.
I smooth down the brightly colored poodle skirt I’m wearing and take one last deep breath, shaking my head and walking down the dark, wooden stairs and out into the back room, immediately being bombarded with kids all vying for my attention.
I nod my head and “ooh” and “aah” at everything they show me, but my heart isn’t in it. I scan the room and my gaze catches Tristan as he runs a hand down a pretty blond’s arm, squeezing her elbow and letting go. Is she his girlfriend? She smiles at him before letting herself be pulled away by Izzie as he walks off toward the doors. Izzie?
My head swirls and I stand staring for what feels like hours, hoping the empty space will bring me the answers I’m looking for, but of course it doesn’t. I turn and another familiar face catches my attention. I know the second he sees me because his face breaks out into a smile as big as the moon and he makes his way toward me, embracing me in his arms without a second thought.
“Harmony,” he whispers, and I stand stock still, not knowing what to do or say. He pulls back and squeezes my shoulders. “What are you doing here?”
“What—I—”
“Eddie!” a little voice shouts and I see Izzie pulling on Edward’s sleeve.
“Sweetie, go and find your nana. I’ll be there in a minute, I’m talking to… an old friend.”
