Save Me: A dark romantic thriller (Novel) (32 page)

Obviously, this did not make for a pleasant frame of mind. The unventilated lounge where Ashley and Stephen sat waiting, flipping through magazines, felt like a stadium during a rain delay.

“You should break out your sketch pad,” Stephen told Ashley, after tossing the crinkled Time magazine he had been looking at aside. He elected to browse through a copy of USA Today instead. “Since right now we have nothing better to do, maybe you can come up with some new ideas . . . You went through your phase of painting violence against women, then you had your famous building phase. Now you’ve conquered seashore themes. I‘m curious to see where you‘re headed next.”

Ashley, who had her red, down jacket folded on her lap, fidgeted in her seat. “Are you kidding? You want me to start sketching?”

“Yes. There’s no sense for you to be sitting there wasting your time reading those silly lady’s periodicals.”

“Silly?”

“Yes! Silly.”

“What is so silly about Glamour Magazine?”

“You know what I mean. There’s nothing in there except superficial nonsense on how to look beautiful. You certainly don‘t need help with that.”

While flipping to another page, Ashley rolled her eyes in frustration. Why did Stephen have to nag her constantly? What a bully he could be. Did he expect her to bring her sketchpad to bed with her as well?

“Anyway, like I was saying before,” he ventured back to his previous topic, once he realized that Ashley wasn‘t going to do what he suggested. “At your exhibition we’re mainly trying to impress the multi-millionaire art collector, Jonathon Royal.”

“I understand that, Stephen. Jesus! You don’t have to keep repeating yourself. I‘m not hard of hearing.”

Aside from being a frequent patron of many European and American art exhibits, Jonathon Royal, who was from Great Britain, also had a reputation for being an extremely high bidder.

“Okay. Don‘t get all up in arms.”

“I‘m not all up in arms. I just don‘t want to keep listening to you telling me the same thing over and over again.”

In an attempt to reduce her agitation, Stephen put his hand on Ashley’s shoulder.

“Look, all I’m trying to say is I wouldn’t be surprised if this eccentric Englishman bid upwards of five-thousand dollars for one of your paintings. But first you‘ll need to impress him with your charm. Believe me, this guy throws money away the way a normal person disposes of trash.”

Jonathon Royal grew up in London, but currently owned a mansion in Wales. He also had a yacht and his own private jet.

***

Fortunately, as it turned out, Claire and Troy made it into Newark before Ashley’s plane had departed. If the flight hadn’t been delayed, they would have been late.

“What time is it?”

“One-thirty.”

“Do you see them?” Troy asked, scanning the stuffy lounge. There were hundreds of passengers, in jackets and sweaters, massed together. Most had frowns on their faces.

“No,” said Claire, carrying the baby. “But they must be around here somewhere.”

“Maybe we should have her paged.”

They had tried to call Ashley’s cell, but could not get through. The storm had fizzled reception.

“If we don’t find her soon, we might have to page her.”

They did not have to resort to that.

Eventually Troy spotted her.

Ashley had just put down whatever it was she had been reading. When she saw Troy, she jumped up from her seat.

“There they are,” he said, pointing.

“Where?” asked Claire.

“Over there, near the gate.”

***

Surprised, Stephen Sorbello had abruptly glanced up from his newspaper and had watched his protégé’s mother, and former boyfriend hurry through the crowded lounge, headed toward where he and Ashley sat waiting. With them, they had the baby. And what appeared to be another piece of art.

“What are they doing here?” Stephen asked, staring at Ashley with heated eyes.

“I forgot one of my paintings,” she explained. “A portrait. They drove up here to drop it off.”

“A portrait?”

“Yes. Remember when my cell phone rang while we were in the limo?”

He nodded.

“That was my mom.”

“But I thought we had all of the paintings.”

“Well, the one they brought, originally, I wasn’t planning to put up for auction. I’ve changed my mind.”

Discouraged, Stephen turned his attention from his protégé, to her former boyfriend. Aside from boots, a green winter coat, Troy also wore a cap.

“Hey,” he said to Ashley, grinning. “Do you think this is too big to bring on the plane?” He placed the portrait on the floor of the lobby in front of her.

“No. It should fit in the overhead compartment.”

“We‘ll just have to be careful,” Stephen interrupted, “and not cram it in there. We don’t want to risk damaging the art.” Now he almost went into a rage as Ashley and Troy stared at one another longingly.

“My God,” Ashley said passionately, suddenly leaping into Troy’s arms. “I feel like I’ve been away from you for so long.”

“I feel the same way,” Troy declared, kissing her tenderly on the lips. “Are you sure you‘ll be safe in England?”

“Don’t worry,” she promised. “I’ll be fine. Really, I will. Also, London isn’t that far away. If you start to miss me too much, you could always call. Or if I start to miss you too much, I’ll call you.”

“All right. But you’d better be safe, Ashley. Because if anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I would do.”

“I love you,” she said, squeezing Troy tightly. “I don’t want to deny that any longer.” She started to cry.

“I love you too,” he also admitted, kissing her again. “I love everything about you, Ashley. Especially your gorgeous smile. You can light up a room with that gorgeous smile.”

“Oh Troy, I missed the way you hold me. I belong here in your arms.”

Look at them
, Stephen thought, amazed by the powerful affection Ashley and Troy clearly felt for one another.
They’re like two love-struck teenagers who can’t bear to be apart
.

“So Stephen,” Ashley said, “how much money do you think we can get for this painting?”

Humbled, he examined the portrait. What Stephen saw left him mesmerized.

If he hadn’t been convinced before that Ashley was born a creative genius, he certainly was now. Of all of the paintings that would grace the walls at her London art show, Stephen decided that this piece would likely receive the highest bid.

The portrait’s theme was a fascinating mixture of love, pain, and indecision. In it Ashley seemed to be conveying that, throughout our lives, one must often battle great suffering in order to appreciate what we have. The painting’s message was simple, yet universal.

“For this,” he replied. “I’m not sure. However, if Mr. Royal is in good spirits, you never know, the profit from this piece might buy you what‘s behind curtain number three.” He laughed; pretending he was Bob Barker from the Price is Right. “A new stove. Refrigerator. Or camper-”

“I take it then that you like it?”

“I do, Ashley. This portrait exudes so much depth and feeling. It could be your finest work.” He paused to capture his breath.

“Thank you. That‘s sweet of you to say.”

“And now I realize where your heart does in fact lay.” Pushing his ego aside, Stephen smiled, and then looked at Troy. “It’s with this handsome gentleman here.”

Once again, Ashley and Troy kissed.

“You two are definitely in love and I don’t want to stand in the way of it . . . You were right, Ashley. This man is your inspiration.”

Thrilled, Ashley beamed. “Gosh, Troy, I wish you could come to London with us.”

“Hey,” he told her. “I always could. That is if it‘s okay with Stephen. The store does owe me six weeks vacation. And they usually prefer that I take part of it during this time of the year when business is slow. All I’d have to do is get Adam to fill in for me and we‘d be good to go!”

There was a long suspenseful intermission, as everyone, including Claire stared at Stephen to judge his reaction.

Finally, he threw his arms up into the air and uttered, “Well, I guess I don’t mind, and they probably do still have more tickets available. However, if you really do want to come to Europe with us, you’ll still need a passport.”

“Actually,” Troy patted his coat pocket, “I happen to have my passport with me.”

“What about money, you’ll need clothing? You can‘t attend Ashley’s exhibition wearing that.”

“No problem. I have that covered as well.” Troy showed everyone his wallet. “I brought my American Express card. When the plane lands, I’ll buy a suit, tuxedo, whatever you think I might need.”

“So you definitely don’t mind?” Ashley asked Stephen again, to reconfirm.

“No,” he said, still admiring the portrait. “Now I consider allowing your boyfriend to tag along an investment. Besides, if I don’t let this gentleman come to Europe with us, I’ll probably never hear the end of it.”

“Probably not.”

***

This had been Troy’s plan all along.

He had secretly been hoping that Stephen and Ashley would let him go to London and Paris with them.

He had even told Adam that if that were to happen, to get ready to manage the department. If Troy had known it would have been this easy to get a green light on the idea, he would have packed a suitcase.

He was relieved. Troy knew it would have been punishing on his heart watching Ashley board the plane without him.

Now thankfully, with them having confessed their love for one another, he did not have to worry about experiencing another heartbreaking loss the way he had with Naomi.

Troy wanted to build a long-lasting relationship with Ashley. There was something about her that made him want to honor and take care of her.

Presently, he was smiling like someone who had just won the lottery.

***

“So when’s the wedding?” Claire suddenly joked. She was relieved to see the three of them reach a compromise. At long last, it seemed her troubled daughter had rediscovered happiness. Claire could not have asked for a finer moment.

“Wedding?” Both Ashley and Troy cried out in unison. “Who said anything about a wedding?”

“Calm down kids. I was only teasing.”

Dear Diary, Jan 2005

I know it has been quite sometime since I last wrote to you, so here goes.

Things for me are going well.

My art exhibition in London turned out to be fabulous. Our weekend in Paris was also fun.

I auctioned every one of my paintings. Made a lot of money and impressed many critics.

As they say in fairytales, I guess I have officially arrived.

Stephen set up two more exhibitions for me, scheduled for the Summer, one in Chicago, and another in Miami.

I am pleased that he is lining me up with these art shows. However, I am also becoming increasingly nervous that I might not be able to meet the deadlines.

Also, it does not seem as if Stephen plans on selling his own artwork anytime soon. For the most part, he seems content on remaining my manager-agent!

As you could imagine, I am also incredibly happy to have Troy back in my life.

Even though the other day I found myself again thinking about Peter. I am not upset; I suppose part of me will always think about him.

How could I not?

Peter’s parents, Brad, and Eve have now started to call and email me on a regular basis.

I sincerely suspect that they want to stay connected, because not only have I at last become somebody worthy of mention, but also because I think they realize how amazing Kimberly is and do not want to sever that bond.

Anyway, even though I still think of Peter on occasion, things are different now.

I am with Troy, and I plan to give myself to him completely.

My heart melts whenever I see him interact with the baby. He and Kimberly have developed such a clear-cut affection for one another.

And since I cannot bear to be away from Troy for long, we have decided to buy a house together. One in Wichita, which would allow Troy to be close to his job, and for me to be near my mother.

As far as other things go, I pray that Craig Elliot and Buck Kennedy never return.

It seems that as soon as I had stopped taking the pills and had drastically cut down on my alcohol intake, the ghosts have no way of entering my world.

I am now back in therapy and have learned that low self-esteem is one of the driving forces that creates depression, leaves the heart vulnerable.

The success of my artwork, combined with Troy’s special love, having Kimberly in my life, and my mother’s forgiveness, are also important factors, which I believe have helped me to exorcise my demons.

At last, I feel I am whole again.

“Would you like to see the kitchen now?” the realtor asked.

It was the third week of February.

Ashley and Troy were looking at a beautiful two-story house, tan with red shutters, which they were thinking of purchasing. The recently built home was five minutes away from Ashley’s mother, and even closer to where she and Peter used to live.

“Yes. We’re ready,” Ashley answered excitedly, snuggling up close to Troy. They had the baby with them.

“Okay,” said the elegantly attired realtor. “Right this way.” Her black pumps reverberated against the bare walls and the shiny wooden floor.

The big modern home had that quintessential new smell, which one often associates with cleanliness.

“Wow!” Troy declared in admiration, when they had reached the kitchen. “This is fantastic! It’s like the type of kitchen you would see on one of those home improvement shows.”