[–Jeff: If I were a braver man, I would’ve told you this earlier. I just don’t want to be there for you like a hypocrite. You should shine like a star on your own.
Huh? How would his being here take the moment away from me? Did I say something to imply that?
[–Jeff: You are a really good girl. I mean it. But that’s why I’m not worthy of you. Anyway, good luck!
Is this a joke? I’m too good a “girl” for him?
I stare at the phone for a long moment. The bastard is dumping me on the one day I should be happy and triumphant?
Hell no. I deserve more than a breakup text!
I call him and let the phone ring. Is he ignoring me?
Then the ringing stops…and is replaced by the sound of heavy breathing. Lots of heavy breathing.
Is he running or something?
“You’re so fucking hot,” Jeff moans.
What the hell? This is not the response I expected, especially after he text-dumped me!
“You’re a beast, baby,” says a panting female.
Moans and groans reverberate down the line. My mouth dries as shock plows into me. Jeff answered my call, probably hit the wrong button accidentally, while having sex with another woman! And he sure didn’t wait long after sending me those texts!
My instincts were right. He was cheating on me!
You asshole! I want to scream. But I can’t do that here at the reception, even if it is finally winding down.
Shaking with anger, I go out into the hall. I clench my hand around the phone as more disgusting sex noises come out of it.
“Such a bad girl,” Jeff says. “What are we going to do about that?”
The woman laughs.
Rage explodes. Too angry to think straight, I smack the wall with my free hand, imagining it’s Jeff, although he’s never been this hard. Ever.
“Hey, hey, hey, pretty lady. What are you hitting that poor wall for?” Isaac’s voice wraps around me like some kind of greasy mist.
Ugh. I don’t need a confrontation with him right now!
He continues, “If you want to put some of that energy to good use, I’m always here for you.”
He puts a hand on my bare shoulder, stroking me. Chills crawl over my body like cockroaches.
“Get off me, you creep!” I spin around, ready to slap him in the face for being a disgusting nuisance. My cheating asshole boyfriend thinks I’m too good to stay faithful to, and this smarmy piece of human garbage just won’t get the hint I’m not interested. I don’t even want to sell my art to him—I want somebody better to own my creations.
But before my palm can connect with his face, he gets pulled backward.
“You heard the lady,” a man—maybe one of the reception guests, since he’s in a suit—says as he spins Isaac around.
Isaac flails around like some sort of large, ungainly insect. “Let go of me,” he says, smacking the man in the face with an open palm.
“Ooh, shouldn’t have done that,” the man says, then throws a punch.
Isaac’s head snaps back, his eyes rolling, and he drops to the floor. The man kicks him, and the art collector slides a few feet away on the smooth marble floor.
After making sure Isaac poses about as much threat as a sack of flour, the man turns to me. “Are you okay?”