“Guess it’s just you and me tonight, Bear.” I pull the cat close as I reassure myself that this is what I wanted.
My hands are shaking as I take the steps to her apartment. When I get to the door, I don’t bother to knock as I burst through the door and see Roxy on the sofa.
“Hey, who the fuck—” he starts to say, but I cut him off when my fist connects with his face. He had it coming and I don’t feel any guilt about it.
He goes down hard in the middle of the room, and I let my anger and frustration guide me as I pick him up off the floor by his shirt. I hold him a few inches off the floor so we’re face to face.
“I heard you’re giving my girl a hard time,” I say, getting in his face.
“Who?” he asks, confusion clear in his eyes.
“Blair,” I say through my teeth. I have to remind myself that I can’t kill him. “She’s been complaining about you, and I don’t like it.”
“I didn’t touch her,” he says, holding his hands up. It’s then I see real fear from him as he tries to explain. “It was just a joke that one time. She’s so uptight.”
I backhand him across the mouth for daring to speak anything negative about her. “Listen, you little punk bitch. You so much as look at her sideways and I’ll take your eyes out.” He tries to push away from me, but I hold him tight. “Do you understand?”
“Yeah, yeah, man. We’re cool,” he says, and there’s no fight in him.
I release him and take a step back as he tries to stand on his own feet. “No, we’re far from cool. But you’ve been warned.” He nods, coughing as he rubs his neck. I take a business card out of my pocket and hold it out to him. “If anything strange happens with her, or that guy Fritz shows up, you call me.”
He takes the card and nods, glancing up at me then away.
I don’t say anything else as I turn away from him and walk out the door. I’m too on edge and too worked up. I would have never done anything like this before Blair, and I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take.
Chapter 4
Blair
When I wake up the next morning, Bear is sitting on my chest. He grunts like some kind of wild animal instead of the adorable cat I know he can be. He’s hungry. I smile and scratch behind his ear because I can’t even be mad at him. I know what it’s like to have that hollow feeling in your belly. It’s probably the reason he’s so robust. I wouldn’t ever call him chubby, but he’s definitely on the upper end of his weight requirements.
“Look at you wasting away to nothing. Let’s go get your breakfast,” I coo as he prances on the bed, waiting for me.
I walk out of my room and straight to the kitchen. There’s no chance of me seeing Roxy this early. He usually sleeps until noon, which was nice when I had later classes. But my new schedule means I don’t get the place to myself much anymore.
When Bear is fed and no longer screeching like he’s dying, I head back to my room to get ready. Thankfully I’ve got my own bathroom. I can’t even begin to imagine what Roxy’s looks like. I was tempted to go peek a few times when he was out, but I knew I couldn’t un-see whatever was in there.
When I’m showered, I lotion up and then grab the clothes I laid out for the day. I wanted something nice to wear into the gallery, and I noticed no one really wore color. That eliminated about half my wardrobe, but luckily, I’ve still got plenty of black.
I needed an outfit to wear into work while I was on the floor, as Lilith said. So, I chose a sleeveless black shift dress with black ballet flats. Then I have a small bag with a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers. It gets hot as hell in the warehouse, but I need jeans because I might have to climb on some crates.
I pile my long dark hair up in a messy knot, but it still looks cute. I put on some dangly earrings and remind myself to take them off when I change later. I line my hazel eyes and put on dark mascara, then just some soft pink lip gloss. I want a simple look that seems professional and young. I don’t know if it’s right, but I’m just going to go for it.
When I’m all finished I grab my bag, pet Bear one last time and then go to the kitchen. I grab my to-go coffee and keys then make my way to work.
Thankfully my feet have recovered from yesterday and the simple flats are good for a walk this morning. Once I’m outside, the warm morning air is already thick with humidity. Growing up in Louisiana I’m used to this kind of steam, but I don’t believe anyone is ever truly comfortable with the south in the summer. Thankfully Charleston is one of those old port cities that’s on the ocean, so we get a bit of a gentle breeze. It will keep about one percent of the mosquitos off of you, and that’s better than nothing.
My favorite way to go to work is down Rainbow Row. The brightly painted houses are like little beacons of hope as I walk by them. These are homes I’ll never be able to afford, even if I had ten lifetimes to save. But they sure are pretty to look at.
Suddenly my mama’s voice rings in my head saying, “they got more money than God,” and I can’t help but laugh. At least there are some good memories I can hold on to.
I walk by one and notice a sleek charcoal-gray car. The windows are so black I can’t see inside, and I wonder if some kind of international dignitary is living in one of those places. I stop for a second and look it over. Something about the car catches my eye and I love the way it looks. I stand there probably longer than I should, because suddenly I feel like someone is watching me. It’s an odd sensation, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I even reach back to touch it, thinking maybe a mosquito got me, but there’s nothing there. It’s like a cool breeze just drifted across that one spot, and though I don’t feel scared, I feel aware.
I look up and down the street but don’t see another soul on either side of the road. There aren’t any cars either this early in the day, but I know with everything inside me, there are eyes on me at this very moment. I give the car one more glance before I decide I may have worn out my welcome on the Row.
When I make it to the gallery, I’m about a half an hour early. Lilith is standing at the front desk looking at something when she hears me come in. She actually gives me a surprised smile when she sees I’m already here and ready to work.
“You’ve beaten Gemma,” she says, and there’s a smugness to her voice, and her Spanish accent is thick.
“Oh, is that a bad thing?” I ask, now unsure if I should have come so soon.
“She’s going to really hate you now,” Lilith says, and lays a stack of folders on the desk in front of me. “Since you’re here I’ll give you these myself. I’ve got a conference call with Germany in five minutes, and I was about to leave a note for Gemma to give them to you. This saves her the trouble.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking them from her. It’s a thick packet and I can already tell my day is going to be full.
“Remember, if you need anything with those clients, come to me directly,” she says, nodding to the folder. “Anything at all.”
“Will do,” I answer, but I really would like to avoid asking her for help.
I watch Lilith click-clack down the hall and notice for the first time she’s in all black again, and still covering almost every inch of her skin. Her face is flawless, and I can only imagine her body is the same. But she’s so severe that I can’t picture her in a floral print or even something simple like sweats.
Asking her for help would be admitting defeat. I’ve got flaws and my own insecurities, but I absolutely hate to lose. If there’s a challenge I’ll meet it, and she’s given me a hefty one.
Going to my small office
area, I drop the folders on the desk and close my door, clicking the lock. I change quickly in here, because I didn’t see much of a private space in the warehouse, and the bathrooms are co-ed. It’s just the three of us ladies that work in the gallery, but the guys in the back sometimes come in and I didn’t want to chance it. After I’ve got my work clothes on, I make my way back to where I’ll be spending most of my day.
When I get there, the room is already starting to get warm, and I switch on the fans to circulate the air. I’ve got my coffee, though I wish it was iced, and I begin to go through inventory.
As I work my way through the crates that have been here the longest and cross reference those with what I have on file, I find a couple that are either missing in the system or on a paper invoice I haven’t been given yet. I mark all of them down with their corresponding crate numbers and make a note to ask Lilith later. I don’t want to slow progress at this point and I don’t want to break them open either.
Most of the art out here is in large wooden crates. They’re in all shapes and sizes, but the heavy wood boxes are made especially for each piece and to protect the art. Some of the boxes are made right here in the warehouse by a few of the guys that work here. I met some of them yesterday and when they come in this morning, I say hello to them again, making small talk and trying to be friendly.
If I had to open a crate, I’d have to get a couple of them to help me, and if Lilith can identify them for me, then opening them up won’t be necessary.
There are about a dozen pieces that are overdue on shipment because they’ve been mislabeled or put in the wrong place. I sort out which ones we can do immediately and take care of as many as I can at one time, taking as many notes as possible so as not to mess anything up.
When my stomach rumbles it startles me and I glance down at my watch to see it’s after one already. I packed a bunch of snacks in my bag last night, but I left them in my office. The foreman comes over about the same time and tells me they’re taking lunch. Well, at least someone around here does.