Chapter TWENTY ONE
Elizabeth
Two weeks after leaving the club, crying my eyes out for four days, and generally having my own private pity party, which I miraculously was able to keep a secret from my very protective brother, I got my shit together. I was not about to let yet another guy rip my heart to shreds.
God, I was pathetic and that needed to change. Now! I brushed myself off, took a hot shower, put on makeup and fresh clothes, and sat down at the dining table with phone in hand, intent on setting some overdue business goals. I was going to be successful, dammit, and to hell with the men of the world.
Heavy footsteps made me look up. “Great, you got dressed today,” Jason said kissing me on the top of my head. “I actually have the day off. Want to do something together?”
“Maybe. I’m kind of busy though.”
“What are you doing? Not making a date are you?” His eyes narrowed and his jaw stiffened.
“Relax. That’s the last thing on my mind,” I assure him.
“Phew. Good.” He ruffled the hair on my head.
“Any word from…him?”
“Nope.”
“I’m sorry, Liz. I know I was wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“About Damon.”
That surprised me right out of my socks. “Fine time to tell me now. And why would you say that? Not that it matters.”
“I don’t know. There was just…something in the way he looked at you. I’ve never seen any guy look at you that way before.”
“Yeah, well, he probably had something on his mind and I just happened to be in his line of vision.”
“Huh. I guess that’s possible but still…”
“Anyway, I don’t want to talk about the all mighty Damon Donovan. Other things that are more important. Things I should have done a long time ago. Something you said I should do. ”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “ Hurray for me.”
He leaned over my shoulder, eyeing my phone. “So, looks like you’re making another list.”
I took a deep breath, threw back my shoulders, and gazed up into those caring green eyes of his. “I’m having an art show.”
“Fantastic.”
“I’m going to show my paintings. Finally. But I don’t think I have quite enough for a show, so I want to include some local artists as well.”
“Great idea.”
“And I’m not going to stop there, Jason. I realize this will be my first show, and it may not go over like gangbusters, but I’m not going to stop. Painting that is.”
“Wow, that’s great, Liz. I’ll do whatever I can to help you and I think it will go over like gangbusters! In fact, I’m sure of it. I know just how we can pull it off and the connections I’ve already made through the Country Club, my associates, my last merger with that Fortune 500 Club will put us over the top and…”
I held up a hand, halting him mid-sentence. “No, Jason. I’m going to plan an art show. Me. Just me. I need to prove to myself I can do it. I appreciate your help but will you please don’t do anything unless I ask you?”
His eyes widened. “Whatever you say, Sis but it’s a great idea. Can I at least come to it?”
“Of course. Now let me jot down my ideas before they pop right out of my head.”
“You got it, Claudine.”
“Who?”
“You know, the famous Claudine Monet.”
“Um, Jason, it’s Claude Monet and he was a man.”
He laughed. “I knew that.”
***
I don’t remember being more excited about anything in my life.
After all my research and meetings with various owners of different venues, I knew I’d picked the perfect place. I planned a two-week exhibition for the last two weeks in April, awarding a $1,000 cash award to one lucky artist, baring myself of course.
Everyone who was anyone wanted to be involved. Not only local artists, but people from across the country, which I suspected had Jason’s thumb print all over it, but despite my objections that he let me go it alone, I turned a blind eye because I was so happy. I’d had so many entry forms that I had to turn some of them away. Me! A literal nobody in the art world—had so many well-known artists involved, there was no way I could fail.
I had no idea there was so much talent in lower East-side Manhattan either. In the end, I decided to show more than just paintings, including a few sculptors, printmakers, and photographers as well. The show was becoming bigger than I’d expected, which was the reason for the long run. I simply couldn’t show everything I wanted to in a few days so I staggered the competition, including my own work in every showing.
Jason was beside himself with enthusiasm. I couldn’t say no when he agreed to take care of refreshments and cater the show himself. I knew he would go overboard, because he was almost more excited than I was. Like a little kid, I actually fed off him, which gave me even more confidence. I probably would never have attempted such a huge event without Jason’s support. No, I knew I wouldn’t have.
My brother had always been my hero. He’d always been there for me, including testifying against our stepfather when he was brought up on drug trafficking charges.
I was on my hands and knees pulling weeds out of my begonia beds when Jason called my name. “They’re going to announce the verdict on TV,” he said, standing in the entryway to our townhouse. The sun glinted on his dark hair, his hands stuffed firmly in his pockets. “You wanna watch it with me?”
Shielding my eyes from bright sunlight with a gloved hand, I shook my head. “Why? I have no desire to look at his disgusting face. Even on television.”
“All right. I get that. I’ll tell you what the jury decided later then.”
“If you must.”A sour taste glazed the back of my throat. Revenge was supposed to taste sweet, wasn’t it? I heard the door slam, as Jason disappeared inside the house, leaving me sitting there in the dirt, my hands covered in mud, bewildered at my own feelings. On the one hand, I was glad to be rid of Jake, but on the other, I didn’t want any more publicity. Not that kind. Would this ever go away, or was I forever tainted as the daughter of a famous mobster who pimped out his children?
I sat back on my haunches, thinking how absurd this whole thing was, and how everything happened for a reason. Jake had threatened to tell Damon about my past. A past I was desperate to keep a lid on, and without my help at all, the Feds managed to plaster it all over national television. They flashed pictures of me as a child. Because I’d changed my name with my last marriage, most people wouldn’t put two and two together, but of course Damon knew of Jake now, so he would be the one exception. Just thinking about it made me shudder and almost cry. In the end it didn’t matter. But it did. To me.
An hour later, I put the garden tools in the shed. I rinsed off my hands with a garden hose, switched shoes, and went inside. Just as I was changing my clothes, my phone pinged inside my pocket.
My heart thumped against my ribs, and it took me a minute to process the text I was seeing.
Damon: Can we talk?
Liz: Why?
Damon: I have something of yours. I’d like to deliver it to you if that’s all right?
Liz: No.
Damon: You don’t even know what it is.
Liz: I know what it is.
I actually did know. It was the painting of Delilah, but I wanted it to be displayed at the Delaney Club so I’d left it behind.
Damon: I want you to have it, Liz. Please.
Liz: No, and I have to go. Don’t text me again.
Liz: And don’t call either.
Liz: And do not show up here!!!!!!!!!
I didn’t know why I added that last part. What were the chances? We were nothing to each other. Tears filled my eyes as I stared at the phone.
Silence.
No further messages.
How was it that this guy could turn me into a train wreck in thirty seconds flat? Six months had gone by. Six…damn…months! Why couldn’t he leave me alone?
It had taken everything in me to put Damon Donovan out of my mind, and I’d done that. Or I did. Until now. Once I started working on the show I’d switched the love off.
Damn him! I scowled at the phone still in my hand, hating it more than anything.
In a fit of rage, I threw it across the room.
It smashed against the wall, making a terrific noise when it connected with the one photo of our mother, bursting the glass frame.
Jason came running in.
“What the hell! Liz…?”
A sharp pain twisted in my stomach. I didn’t answer because I couldn’t speak. Hell, I couldn’t even move. I just stared at that damn phone. Stared at it like it had just ripped off a scab off an open wound and I hated it for that.
Finally, I looked at Jason who had pulled me into his arms, knowing I needed it right then. “Liz…?”
“I….I need a new phone,” I said into his shoulder and then broke down into tears.