Chapter Ten
Daphne
I was living in a fantasy world since Caldwell had returned from his trip. He had a few clothes and toiletries in my house that didn’t come and go—I even found some of his dirty clothes in my laundry pile. Surprisingly, I loved washing his garments with mine, it made things seem like more. He never argued with me when I said “stay” and he never questioned if I wanted him home at night. I mentioned or texted what I was craving for dinner and he often came through the door with food or I let him know that I had things ready to eat.
Bedtime, we slipped between the sheets and cuddled. Sometimes we had sex and other times we just talked. I maybe talked too much since I had really made headway with photos and words for my book. I loved Caldwell’s input and his knowledge of the architecture I was compiling—he had even suggested a few houses for me to research.
“You know Harrison owns a lot of houses and has access to even more. He could get you in to photograph some amazing homes—all styles.”
“You’re right. He has already helped me. When you were gone he took me to a few in Pasadena. I swear that area could fill an entire book.”
“Going behind my back with another man?”
I laughed, although I wasn’t sure if it really bothered him. “Are you jealous?”
“You’re mine…” his words mumbled against my skin as his lips journeyed around making me dizzy with lustful thoughts.
I wasn’t sure of every word, but I liked that he wanted to claim me. “I like the sound of that.”
“I like everything about you, Daphne.” His voice was totally sexy and I had never pictured conversing in between so many kisses and caresses. I thought he would segue into quietness, but no he continued to ask me questions and expected my answers. I was amazed that I could think, let alone speak. I wanted to tell him to shut up and yet he had me rethinking my book. Maybe I needed more than one as I already had a huge volume for the Los Angeles area alone. He was so encouraging—even with his little bout of jealousy—and it made me love…yes, love him all the more.
I was thankful that I was able to keep from blurting out that last part. Then again, he finally gave up on conversing and captured my mouth as he slid inside me. “Finally” my brain shouted as I gave into every wave of excitement that shot through my entire body. I never wanted to leave our Streamline Moderne love nest. I just wanted us to be wrapped up in each other’s arms—that was all I needed.
Unfortunately, work and obligations seemed to draw us out of our own little world and out into the real one. Deadlines were looming for me. I had articles to write and that included attending some events and trips to art hot spots.
“Aubree called me and she wants me to go out tomorrow night.” That wasn’t completely true. She had texted me to say I was boring and that we needed a girls’ night out. I didn’t know how he would feel about me going out on the town. I didn’t think I would like him in a club or a bar with his guy friends. So, my solution to Aubree wanting some girl time was to take her along to a gallery opening. I hoped that it was a good one that would satisfy her “going out” request.
Caldwell didn’t even question my announcement and it made me question us or if there was even an us. “That’s perfect I have a special event to go to.”
Hmmm. I didn’t like the thought of him out at some hoopla without me. He is too incredibly handsome to be attending any events minus me on his arm. I could picture the female vultures swooping down to dig their claws into his salty, yummy, fragrant flesh.
Of course, I couldn’t say anything or inquire as to what he was up to since I was the one that said I had plans and didn’t give details. I did like that he asked what time I would be home and if I wanted him to come over later that night. I was giddy knowing that at the end of the night I would be paid a visit…that Caldwell would be coming home to me. Climbing in bed with me where he belonged.
“Oh my God!” Aubree practically screamed as we walked into a gallery in the heart of the art gallery district of downtown. “I’m so glad you picked the evening’s fun time—even if you are essentially working.” My sister loved to tag along with me on occasion and, luckily, this one was to her liking. Madison was supposed to come along, too, but she had some covert thing to do that night. “This place looks amazing!” Aubree did a little dance move as I gazed around taking in the whole space that had obviously been transformed.
So true, I had to agree with her. It was, certainly, a million times better than the last gallery in its place. The decor before was too out of place…too elegant for the art district. It was too sleek with gray to black painted walls, velvet benches and lots of gold everywhere—track lighting, crystal chandeliers, shiny golden door handles, and even fancy gold fixtures in the bathroom. Gaudy and pretentious. The new look was fresh and clean with stark white walls. I loved the old exposed brick wall that must’ve been plastered over with drywall and dark paint. “Wow!” I said, looking up at a funky galvanized piping system which provided the track lighting for the artwork. Playful and fun!
The artwork on the walls was turned around but there were fantastic twisted metal sculptures all around on risers of different heights. They had a tropical jungle-like quality—vines, leaves, flowers—in mesmerizingly bright colors. Each piece looked like random pieces of scrapped metal stretched and welded together.
“Daphne, you have to taste this!” Aubree was excitedly shoving a pretty silver-dollar sized scallop toward my lips.
Biting into a seared scallop decorated with a delicious spicy avocado puree, my thoughts ran to the food that had been served on my last visit. It was a caviar and champagne fest delivered by tuxedo clad servers—deviled quail eggs topped with caviar, pate in endive topped with caviar and a few other things topped with fancy fish eggs. Not necessarily bad but it didn’t fit in with the art scene vibe of downtown. Fast forward to that evening’s event, there wasn’t caviar to be seen on any of the trays being passed around by young women in little basic black dresses and young men wearing black pants and white dress shirts, no ties. Another item not present, champagne. Instead, fruity tropical drinks were offered with a variety of scrumptious bites that were appealing to look at in bright shades of color…and yummy.
In fact, it seemed there was a rainforest theme going on with the food, drinks, and sculptures. It had me even more curious as to what was waiting for us behind the canvases that seemed to be dangling closely to the walls on some kind of wire cabling system attached to the high open ceiling.
A dip in the volume of the background music and a flickering of lights—like in a theatre setting to signal curtain time—captured everyone’s attention. Anticipation could be felt as a hushed silence fell over the gallery crowd. Servers stepped back, leaving the guests’ eyes to search the room for the next revelation. No one seemed to know which direction to face as I watched everyone and performed my own same head roll from side to side.
Then to my surprise, a very familiar voice began to speak over the PA system, welcoming his guests to his gallery… his gallery…
Caldwell’s? “C.Well” C as in Cald plus Well? “What?!” I wanted to shout as I scanned the room. Where was he? I was so lost and bewildered that I nearly missed the art reveal.
However, once the paintings were easily flipped thanks to the electronic cabling, I was floored by the spectacular colors bursting from every canvas. In an instant, my heart raced for a completely different reason. Anybody that knew anything about art gasped knowing that we were all being treated to a pop up showing of Renaldo Rossellini paintings. His style and subjects were distinguishable with their loud color and floral sexuality. I have often labeled him as a cross between Gauguin, Rousseau and O’Keefe with his own naughty uniqueness. There seemed to be orgies, sexual acts…nakedness within a jungle of vines, flowers and other fauna…pure fantasy on every canvas.
I had completely forgotten about Caldwell as my eyes danced around to each piece and I had even drowned out all voices around me until I ran into a hard body and heard, “What are you doing here?” Snapped out of my daze, I looked up into two equally confused eyes.
“This is your place?” I asked and then regretted my next words. “You owned it before…the dark pretentious abyss?”
“Oh my God! I can’t believe you are talking to Daphne Chastain.” I heard some guy say to Caldwell who looked at him with a questioning look and he added, “Remember the infamous art critic… D. Chastain ring any bells to you?”
Caldwell turned his full attention to me. “You’re the one and only D. Chastain?”
“Umm, yeah.” I answered, feeling like things were about to go south.
“I thought you were an old man. Dickhead Chastain.”
Snapping my head back…offended, I repeated the name, “Dickhead?!” I was sure I had captured some attention—turning a few nearby heads.
“Yes, some fucking arrogant, pompous ass that had no gumption for a real art environment…something different… Fuck! I almost had to shut down my gallery because of you.”
I was fuming listening to the words of a man I obviously knew nothing about. “Me pompous?! Your last place was phony and out of place… You’re a liar! You’ve been sneaking off to come here? What else don’t I know about you?”
“Me a liar?! You didn’t tell me you were a fucking annoying art critic.” Caldwell’s voice was raised in a tone I had never heard before. It was filled with hatred.
“Annoying?! What the fuck?! I’m not a critic…I just write…I just… Oh my God!” I couldn’t finish my sentence but instead rushed a few short steps away from him, held my stomach and puked in a trash can or maybe it was a plastic planter. I wasn’t sure. I just hoped that it wasn’t an art sculpture or a piece of art.
Fortunately, Aubree had caught wind of our argument and came to my assistance when I began to heave. She was quick to clean me up and get me the hell out of there before I embarrassed myself anymore. The only saving grace was the spectacular artwork since people were just as mesmerized as I had been standing in the mist of pure brilliance.
I was sure that no one realized that they had witnessed the end of my love life.