Page 113 of Sparking Sara

“I’m not mad. But you must have found something pretty interesting to go through all this trouble.” The bathroom is steaming up, so I reach into the shower and turn on the cold water instead. “I’m not sure how long I can pretend to take a shower.”

“I’m going to send you a series of screen shots. It’s too hard for me to explain it over the phone. Plus, in my experience, the messenger is the one who always gets killed, so I’d prefer you read it rather than me telling you.”

“You think I’m going to be mad atyoufor the texts? I didn’t even know you.” My back stiffens. “Did I?”

“No, you didn’t know me. But you’re going to be mad, that’s for sure. And Sara, if I don’t hear back from you in short order, I’m calling the London police.”

I gasp. “Why would you need to do that? Denver, you’re really starting to freak me out.”

“Just hang up and wait for the screen shots. I’ve loaded them all into one email that I’m sending you now. Read all of them, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Call me right back,” he says. “Got it?”

“Okay, geez. I’m hanging up now. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

I’m not sure why, but after I hang up the phone, I get up and lock the bathroom door. Denver has me completely on edge.

I immediately check my email, but don’t see anything. I keep refreshing impatiently until it shows up. By the time I get it, I’m shaking. What could possibly have Denver prepared to call the police?

I open the email and start scrolling through the screenshots of a text conversation between me and Oliver dated two days before my accident.

Ollie: You’re blowing this way out of proportion.

Me: You’re kidding me, right? You STOLE Benny Klutner’s paintings, kept them for yourself, and gave knock-offs to his paying clients. I assume you meant to sell the stolen ones somewhere else and keep the money for yourself? I may be a class-A bitch, but I can’t sit back and be a party to this.

Benny?I remember hearing Oliver on the phone with him a few times. He would always leave the room when Benny called. And then he would tell me it was nothing.

Ollie: Oh, like you’re Snow White.

Me: I told you last night—it’s over. I’m going to Benny and then to the cops.

Ollie: You don’t want to do that, Sara.

Me: Of course I do, Oliver. You’re shitting on the very foundation on which my career stands. People like Benny and me, we sell original paintings. One-of-a-kind creations. If anyone ever found out there were duplicates, let alone knock-offs that weren’t painted by him, his career would be ruined, and you’d go to jail.

Ollie: No one will ever find out if you don’t tell them. I was going to stash them away for a few years and then sell them overseas. Why can’t you just forget you saw them? What were you doing rummaging around my apartment, anyway?

I look up from the phone.Hisapartment?His,notours.My heart is pounding so hard, it hurts. I glance up at the ceiling, wondering if he’s done with his shower. Then I try to quickly get through the rest of the screenshots.

Me: Looking for evidence. I know you’ve been fucking Anna. I’ve known for months.

Ollie: What do you care who I shag? You never call me when you’re back in town. You never invite me over to your place. The only thing you want me for is my cock.

Me: And the only thing you want me for is my bank account.

Ollie: It’s why we make such a good couple. Let it go, Sara.

Me: Let what go? The paintings or Anna?

Ollie: Both. You know I’ll make it up to you when I return from San Francisco tomorrow.

Me: When you return from SF, you’ll find all the shit from your drawer in a box at the concierge desk. I told you I’m done. I don’t want anything more to do with you.

Ollie: I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

Me: Are you threatening me?

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