Page 39 of Choosing the right Man

“And we both know you’d sell your soul if it gets you the masterpiece you’ve been searching for, so quit denying you want my help,” she counters.

“I sold my soul long ago. It’s not up for grabs.”

“When you started pursuing that drab woman who clearly doesn’t want you?” she asks with a laugh. Someone in this office is talking to her, someone who will lose their job as soon as I figure it out.

My smile falls away. “Leave her out of this.” My words are steel.

Her smile quickly fades. “You’re awfully protective for a man not interested.”

“If you want to continue talking to me you won’t say another word about her,” I warn. My tone doesn’t change, my volume doesn’t rise, but I see the dawning awareness in her eyes. I see her reevaluation of the situation. It takes her only seconds to compose herself again.

“My client has an exclusive audience, and he loves new artists. He’s very particular, and I know you’ll be inspired,” she tells me. She’s taking me seriously. Her intelligence is one thing that attracted me to her in the beginning. There’s no attraction anymore, even if I appreciate certain qualities about her.

“I won’t meet with him, but you can tell me more about him,” I say, having to give this round to her. She smiles in victory. I want to close this aspect of my life, and I can’t do that until the right inspiration hits me.

I’ll eventually cut all ties to Bella, but the time isn’t right yet. I can’t regret knowing her, taking this path down this artistic road. Going into business with Bella is what led me to morphing into the man I am today. I certainly don’t belong to Bella. But I also don’t belong to Chloe. I belong to no one.

I’m a stranger to myself most of the time. I’m even a stranger to my family, though they don’t realize this. I’m able to find who I really am once in a while, but most of the time, I’m lost. With each new piece of art, though, I shed a bit more of my gruff exterior and move closer to the man who will emerge in the end.

I move behind my desk and sit. Is it Bella and the art that’s making me shed these final pieces... or is it Chloe? An interesting question. Chloe means nothing to me, however I can’t go a single hour without thinking of her. When Bella exits the room, I’ll instantly forget her so she has nothing to do with who I am.

The only person who has ever consumed me this much is... Chloe. What exactly does this mean? It might be too frightening for me to answer this. I’ve never been scared of anything in my life, but when it comes to Chloe, I realize I have some fear. Holy hell, this is complicated.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chloe

It’s about three minutes to five when my phone rings. I smile when I see it’s Audrey calling. We haven’t talked for long stretches at a time over the last few years, and now we’re chatting every day. True friendship really does last through the ages.

“Good evening,” I answer as I close my computer and gather my purse. “It’s Friday, and this place is a ghost town.”

Audrey laughs. “Life’s too short to hang out at work late on a Friday night,” she assures me. “And I scored tickets to one of the hottest clubs in Portland.” She’s practically giddy.

“How’d you manage that?”

“I’m charming,” she says with a laugh. “I’ll be at your place at nine on the dot so be ready to party.”

“I don’t know, Audrey. It’s been a long week. I’m not sure I’ll last very long.” I hate disappointing her, but the club scene isn’t my favorite weekend activity. Maybe when I was in my early twenties, but...

“No excuses. I’ll be there, so look hot.” I try to form a reply when the line goes dead. I laugh. It looks as if I’m going to theclub. If there is an alpha and beta in our relationship, it’s clear which one I am.

Excitement builds as I get ready. Paul’s home working in his office, and I tell him what I’m doing. I even invite him to come along, though I prefer a night out with just my girl. He barely acknowledges me as he gazes at his computer, saying he has to finish his work, and I should have fun.

I sigh and go into the bedroom, finding a perfect red dress, one I haven’t worn in forever. I nervously pull it out, hoping it fits. Surprisingly, it not only fits, but looks better than it ever did before. This could be a great night. I’m not looking for attention, but it still feels good to look nice, especially if I’m with my gorgeous best friend.

I redo my makeup, going from a work look to a night-on-the-town appearance, darkening my eyes and painting my lips a bold red. I smile as I gaze at my reflection. With thirty minutes to spare, I go into the kitchen and make a sandwich. Carbs are good if I’m going to consume alcohol.

Audrey arrives a few minutes before nine, looking stunning in her black mini-skirt and sparkling top. Her blonde curls are up in a haphazard bun that appears as if she just threw it on top of her head, but it probably took her an hour to do.

“You’re stunning,” I tell her. She stares at me, a gleam in her eyes. I shift on my feet, wondering what’s wrong.

“What?” I finally ask. “Do I need to change?”

Audrey laughs and gives me a tight squeeze. “You don’t need to change a damn thing. You’re stunning.” She gasps, pushes away, and really looks at me. “I don’t know how your boyfriend willingly lets you out of the house looking this good.” She looks back toward Paul’s office and rolls her eyes.

“I don’t think he’s noticed me in a very long time.” I’m not sad. I’m continuously numb, as if I’ve stopped caring.

“Well, we’re wasting time,” she says.

---