Chapter 16 – Blake
It was almost like everything started moving in slow motion from the moment that Talia ran out of the gallery. She looked like a wounded animal moving far away from danger. I was sure that that must have been how she was feeling. I felt bad, like I had taken part somehow in hurting her. I think I had allowed myself to believe the delusion that I could somehow hide the truth from her forever, but I had never imagined that it would come out like this, at a moment when she should have been at her happiest, her moment of glory. And to have the news broastcast to everyone within ear shot at the party must have been the ultimate embarrassment.
When she left, I was right on her heels, trying to keep up with her, weaving through the sea of people that was beginning for form as everyone watched with curious delight at the scandalous display that had unfolded at the party. By the time that I reached the front door and stood on the sidewalk, there were too many people for me to see where she had gone. I looked everywhere that I could frantically, but all I saw was a sea of bodies, all dressed in fancy clothes, that had spilled out of the gallery onto the sidewalk. Some were calling it a night, deciding that the night's events were enough for them to say their goodbyes and head to their next engagement or home. It was fairly early enough that there were still things going on in the city.
But, I didn't care about any of that. My priority was making sure that Talia was okay. I ran back inside the gallery and tried calling her. Her phone went straight to voicemail.
"Did you find her?" asked Allison, a look of sincere worry on her face. I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. I know that it was wrong of me to feel that Allison was to blame for this, but I couldn't help but feel that if she had been more discreet with her conversation, none of this would have happened.
"I'm so sorry, Blake," said Allison. "I had no idea that this would happen."
"Maybe you should learn to be a better friend and stop blabbing your mouth to anyone who would listen about someone that you claim to care about," I said, my words punching the air.
Allison looked shocked, like she was taken aback by my words.
"Hey, look, Blake, I understand you being upset and all, but this is not my fault. Harvey is the one who came here starting trouble. Not me. I came to fully support my friend. Hell, if it weren't for me, she wouldn't have even been a part of this show."
"You mean, if it weren't for me," I said coolly, walking away from her. I didn't want to go back and forth and I knew that I was so angry that I might say something that I would later regret.
Talia didn't deserve this. No one deserved to have their hopes and dreams shattered to pieces right before their eyes, but least of all her. She had come so far. She was so incredibly gifted and everyone acted like that didn't matter. She finally had had the chance, even if it was something that I had orchestrated, to believe in her own greatness, and just because some prick was upset that he couldn't get into her pants, he tried to take all of that away from her.
I wouldn't stand for it.
"Where's Harvey?" I asked Linda, pulling her away from a conversation with an older couple who seemed enthralled by everything that was going on. She politely excused herself and stepped away.
"The last I saw he was being scraped up off of the floor threatening to sue everyone here," she said, hanging her head shame. I winced, kind of wishing that I would have handled things differently. But, largely, I wasn't upset with the way that things had happened. Harvey had been asking for it for a very long time. Even though I would now have to deal with the consequences of what had happened that night, I was glad that I had finally been able to serve Harvey a plate of cold, hard justice.
I would have to deal with Harvey later.
At the moment, my priority was Talia. I needed to find her.
"I'm going to head back to our hotel," I told Linda. "If you hear anything, please be sure to let me know. And I'll do the same."
I said my goodbyes halfheartedly and walked out of the gallery. The cool, night air felt good on my face. I took a few deep breaths, hoping that that would help to calm the nerves that were beginning to accumulate in the pit of my stomach.
The walk back to our hotel was a long one. I kept checking my phone to see if Talia had called me, but she hadn't. I walked into our suite, calling her name, hoping to find her curled up in a chair waiting for me. She wasn't there. I yelled out in frustration.
I pulled out my cellphone and called Jensen. I was sure that he would know what to do.
"Hello?" he said cheerfully. I could hear the sound of talking and the clanking of plates.
"Hey, Jensen. How's everything?" I tried to keep my voice as even as possible.
"All good here," he said, trying to yell over the noise in the background. "How did everything go with the art show?"
I paused, not quite sure how to share the less-than-favorable news.
"Well, that's kind of why I'm calling," I said, being sure to choose my words carefully. "A guy showed up and made a mess of things and Talia ran out. Now, I'm trying to find her."
"Any idea where she might have gone?" he asked. I coud hear the noise in the background dying down. I knew that he probably was stepping into a quieter space.
"No," I told him. "That's why I'm calling you. I need your help finding her. I know that you have connections all over the city. I need to make sure that she's safe, that I find her in one piece."
"I understand," he said. "Let me make a few calls and get back to you. And try not to worry."
I rolled my eyes at his last statement. How exactly was I supposed to not worry knowing that she was out in the city, distraught, and vulnerable? I just wished that I knew where she was, that I could hold her, comfort her. But, more than anything, I just wished that I could explain everything. That part made things that much harder, the fact that there was so much unresolved, the fact that she probably had so many questions about what was going on. I didn't want her to feel like she couldn't trust me. I wanted her to understand that everything that I had done, I had done with the best of intentions, wanting things to work out perfectly for her.
But, I had to find her to be able to tell her anything.
I paced the floor all night, stopping only to check my phone and peek through the blinds, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, to hear her voice, to see a text from her. I even went on her social media pages to see if there had been any updates. It was as if she disappeared off the face of the earth.
I didn't even bother trying to fall asleep because I knew that there would be no way that I could relax long enough for that to happen.
Before I knew it, the sun was coming up. And I still hadn't heard anything from Talia or about her.
At about 6:30 am, my cell phone started to buzz. I almost dropped it because it startled me. It was Jensen.
"Hey, we found her," he said. "She's about three blocks away from the hotel at a 24 hour diner. My sources say that she's been there for about twenty minutes now. Did you want someone to go and pick her up?"
"No," I said, grabbing my coat. I was already out the door before we hung up. I walked fast down the street, trying to stop myself from breaking out into a full run. I was relieved that she had been found and needed to see her right away. I wanted to get to her before she disappeared again.
When I got to the diner, I stood outside trying to catch my breath for a few minutes. I was also trying to collect my thoughts, hoping that I wouldn't say anything that might make her run off again. I needed her to understand what happened and why I had done what I had done.
The bell above the door chimed when I pushed it open. Talia's back was to me and she didn't turn when the door opened. She sat nursing a cup of coffee, staring blankly into her cup, absentmindedly stirring it.
I slid into the booth where she was sitting across from her. She looked up and had a look of surprise on her face when she saw me. The look was quickly replaced with irritation.
"Hey, Talia. How are you?" I didn't quite know how to open up the conversation or how she would respond, so I figured I'd start with a safe question.
"Besides being the biggest loser in America, I'm fine," she said, laying her head down on the table in front of her. My heart sank hearing those words.
"You're not a loser," I said, reaching out to put my hand on her shoulder. "You're the exact opposite of that."
She jerked away, her head popping up. Her eyes were so filled with anger they seemed to cut me like a knife.
"If I weren't such a big loser, why did you feel the need to arrange things for the showing? You made me think that I was picked because I was actually good, not because some rich guy bought out the gallery. And that's the other thing. Why did you make me think that you were some blue collar worker?"
Her eyes searched mine. I could see the depth of her pain, pain that was caused by my deception.
"I just wanted you to like me for me, not necessarily because of my money," I said. "But, why did you run away? I was so worried about you. And you didn't answer your phone. I thought that something had happened to you."
"I was so embarrassed. I just wanted to be as far away from you and everyone at the gallery as humanly possible. I had to think, really come to terms with the fact that I may never be an artist respected for my craft. My craft. Even those words together don't make sense anymore. I had to really sit and accept the fact that I don't have any real talent. Because if I did, you wouldn't have felt the need to orchestrate things so much that there would be no way that I would have been rejected. You would have truly believed in me and my art. But, you didn't. You figured that the only way that I would have success is if you paid for it."
"It wasn't like that at all," I said, still trying to get through to her.
"Of course it was," she yelled. "If it hadn't been that way, you would have been honest with me and just told me that I didn't have any talent and that I should just stick to being a cashier. At least that would have been the truth. Instead, you interfered, making me believe a lie, that I actually stood a chance at being a real artist. You should have just told me to stick to making my little paintings in secret, that the only place where my art would be considered something was probably on my mom's refrigerator or at the bottom of a bird cage. I trusted you above everyone else to at least tell me the truth about that. You didn't have any real reason to lie, or so I thought. But, it turns out that the very person that I have trusted through this process is the one who set me up for failure."
She covered her face with her hands, letting out loud sobs. My heart was breaking just listening to her and watching her. And while a large part of me felt sorry for me, another part of me felt angry at her. I couldn't sit and watch her tear herself to shreds without speaking my mind.
"You should be ashamed of yourself," I told her curtly.
She paused, looking up at me shocked.
"What?" she asked, incredulously.
"You heard me," I said firmly. "You should be ashamed of yourself carrying on like this. If you didn't have any real talent, if you weren't meant to be a real artist, answer me this: how is that all of your paintings sold last night?"
"What?" she asked, looking thoroughly confused.
"Yeah," I continued. "If you hadn't have run off like you did last night, you would have been able to see how quickly your pieces sold. In fact, we had people asking where they could find more of your work. You have a list of clients already waiting for you to create new pieces and are willing to wait until you create more. Now, tell me, if you didn't have talent, if this was all just some charade, do you think that that would be the case?"
A distance look was in her eyes as she considered what I was saying. She shook her head and sunk back into her seat, folding her arms.
"The only reason that that happened was because they probably wanted to have some sort of connection to the crazy whore artist at the gallery," she said. The words landed hard, annoying me even more than I already was. I just couldn't believe that she being so hard on herself. I took a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm. I knew that she was frustrated and me being frustrated on top of everything was not going to help diffuse the situation.
"More than half of your pieces had already sold before the whole scene with Harvey even happened," I informed her calmly. "So, if people had only shown interest because of the scene that happened, most of your collection would have still been in the gallery. Instead, the pieces were flying off of the walls faster than we could get them down. The only way that something like that would happen, whether I had helped things along or not, is if you had real talent. It's not like I hired the people to come to the show. Those were real art fans and collectors who wanted beautiful pieces to add to their collection and were willing to spend their own money to buy them. Give yourself more credit than that."
I could see a smile beginning to play on Talia's face, much like the sun peeking through storm clouds. But, it was so fleeting. Her eyebrows quickly furrowed and she frowned.
"Well, if all of that is true, why would you intervene and orchestrate things? Why not let things happen naturally and if I succeeded or failed, it would be because of my own doing? Didn't you realize that if I ever found out what you did, I would be embarrassed, that it would be a huge blow to my pride?"
I let out a deep, long sigh.
"To be honest, I hadn't even really thought of that," I admitted. "My only thought was doing all that I could possibly do to make you happy and keep you happy. I didn't expect that my feelings for you would grow as quickly as they did. But, they did. And I didn't want to hide from my feelings anymore. I didn't want to stop myself from doing the things that I thought would make you happy. And it worked. Seeing you smile, so full of light every day, fed my soul. I guess instead of wondering how things might end badly, my focus became how to make you happy and keep you that way forever."
Talia nodded slowly as she let the weight of my words sink in. I wasn't quite sure what to say after that or what was going to happen.
"I believe you about wanting to make me happy," said Talia after a few minutes. "You have been so amazing toward me and I have been so happy and satisfied staying with you on the island. But, I'm not sure if I believe that you believe that I am really a talented artist. I just can't be sure because of how things went. And I'm sorry for that."
"It's okay," I said nodding. "In hindsight, I see how me keeping the truth from you would make you feel like I didn't really believe in you as an artist. But, I really do. And I will do everything in my power to make sure that I prove myself to you. You can trust me, Talia. Completely."
She looked at me as if she were trying to decide whether to believe me or not.
"So, what now? Where do we go from here?" I asked, almost afraid of her answer.
"Where do you want to go?" she asked quietly, taking a sip from her cold cup of coffee.
"Well, I want to go back to my island," I said. "But, I don't want to go back alone. I want you to come with me."
I held my breath, hoping that she would agree to come back with me. I knew that there was a chance that she would refuse, that she would tell me that too much had happened and that she needed some time to think. We hadn't talked about our arrangement since we had agreed not to, but the time was close for us to start talking about how we would part ways. And now that there was no art show for her to prepare for, I would understand if she decided to go back home.
I hoped against hope that that wasn't the case, but I had to wait for her to speak.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke.
"I'll go back to the island with you," she said. "But, that doesn't mean that I'm not still upset with how everything happened. I want to know that I can trust you, but I'm not sure that I can completely. One thing that has been really bugging me is about you lying about being a billionaire. Why would you lie about that?"
I shook my head, staring down at the table.
"I hadn't planned on lying about that," I said. "It's just-when I saw you, I liked you. A lot. And I wanted you to like me, too. Me. Not my money or any of that. I'm used to people like me for my position or the material things that I have. I wanted to see if you would like me for the man that I am, not for what I may have or may be able to do for you."
She hesitated before answering.
"I guess I can understand that somewhat," she said. "But, I need you to do me a favor. If there is any hopes of us being able to recover from this, I need you to promise me something. From hereo on out, I need you to be completely honest with me about everything."
"Okay," I said with no hesitation.
"No, I really need for you to understand what I'm saying. I don't want any lies, whether it's you telling me untruths or hiding things from me for any reason. I need to know that you're going to be an open book so that I can trust the things that you say as being sincere. I need to know without a shadow of a doubt that you are a man of integrity."
I nodded profusely.
"Yes. Yes. I will do whatever it takes to make you know that you can trust me."
She smiled that sweet smile of hers, the one that eminated from her eyes and warmed my heart.
"Good," she said. "Now kiss me."
I obliged her, planting a juicy kiss on her perfect lips