Chapter 41
Evangeline
So, I probably shouldn't have spent the money.
I should have returned it to Raphael. It’s dirty money tied to the most depressing period of my life, a period I want to forget. So returning it would have been the dignified thing to do, the way to end things with finality and find closure. The way to move on. But that man broke my heart, dammit. It's only fair that I have something to show for it.
A return on investment, as he would say.
Besides, the last few weeks have been hell. My only reprieve has been my workshops with the seniors at the community center. It was the only thing keeping me sane.
A little smile sneaks onto my face as I pivot slowly, taking in the room around me. To anyone else, it probably looks like a barren showroom with empty shelves, tables and display cases. But I see it for more than it is right this minute. I see it for what it will become once I receive the first shipment of stock, once the first customers walk through the doors, once I set up the first jewelry-making workshop. I see the one-of-a-kind handcrafted pieces draped on the mannequins. I see the artisan jewelry from all corners of the world sitting next to each other in the display cases.
I see my biggest dream finally coming to life in vivid color.
This place is starting to come together bit by bit. Prescott helped with painting the other day. Annaleigh and Blakely went furniture shopping with me earlier this morning. I’ve already started setting up the workshop area in the corner of the room.
So, I probably shouldn't have spent the money but frankly, I don’t regret that I did.
My very own boutique bringing my favorite eclectic handmade jewelry from around the world to the Illinois suburbs…
Raphael gave me the confidence to do this. He propped me up when I was too feeble to believe in my dreams. I just wish that he was here to see me now, to see that I actually put actions behind my words. I wonder if that would be enough to convince him that I’m not just some troublesome little girl. I’m a woman. A woman who can stand by his side.
I pull in a deep breath because I don’t want to go down that rabbit hole again. It hurts too much.
I was in love with Raphael Silver. I still am. But, he just disappeared. Yes – I’m his best friend’s daughter, but I’m not a child. I know what I want. I just wish that he was man enough to give it to me.
My relationship with my father has been strained since the day my parents walked into Raphael’s hotel room. My mother has tried to reach out to me, leaving a string of tearful messages on my phone. Deep down, I knew that she’d come around once the shock wore off. She’s a pretty open-minded person. But there’s been radio silence from my father. I can’t say that I’m surprised. Bob Brooks’ ego is a monster of epic proportions.
Sighing, I pick up a rag and a bottle of window cleaner and attack one of the dusty display cases. The bangles from India would look amazing here, right next to the cash register. I make a mental note to also follow up with that designer just outside of Paris, the one who makes those skinny leather wrist belts with the rhinestone buckles. I already have a few potential customers in mind who would love –
“Hello Eva…”
The rag slips from my hand and I feel a chill run through my bones. I turn around slowly and he’s standing there.
“Simon…” My hands go cold. So cold. And sweaty. And my heartbeat booms in my ears. “What are you doing here?” I manage to squeak out just before my throat closes down completely. Didn’t I lock the door when Annaleigh and Blakely left earlier?
A vile grin spreads across his face. “I was just in the neighborhood,” he says, trying to act casual, “I told you I’d drop in to collect what you owe me.” He approaches slowly, menacingly.
I back away, eyes darting around for a makeshift weapon. “I–I don’t have the money.” Now, I’m having second thoughts about my little investment. Raphael promised that he’d take care of Simon. I’d all but put this whole situation out of my mind because I trusted that it had been handled. Now, I see that, like all things even tangentially related to Raphael, I was naïve.
Simon clucks his tongue. “Well, I suspected as much. I see you’ve got yourself this fucking rat-hole.” He waves around uninterestedly at my studio. “What exactly do you plan on doing with this dump anyway?”
I ignore his question. I’m not intent on making small talk with him. “You should leave.” I hate the slight waver in my voice. I pray silently that he doesn’t hear it.
He runs his thumb along my bottom lip. “Baby, I’m not leaving until I get paid.” He leans in, letting his tongue swipe the lobe of my ear. “Either in cash or in ass. You choose the currency.”
Hell to the no!
I’m not gonna just stand here and let this grubby creature put his hands and his tongue and god know what else on me. I’m fighting back!
I duck out of his reach and grab the glass cleaner. Before he can do anything, I spritz it straight into his eyes. He doubles over and howls in shock or in pain, I’m not sure. All I know is I have to get out of here.
I pick up one of the glass display cases and smash it over his head to buy some more time. I make a mad dash for the front door and twist the knob while he tries to recover. I yank the door open and go smack dab into a rock hard chest.