Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

A riel dabbed her paintbrush in the crimson daub on her palette and slashed across the canvas propped on the easel in front of her.

Red, the colour of anger and fury.

She followed with a dab and slash of ebony.

Black, the colour of darkness and gloom.

Another slash, this time with sunshine yellow.

Yellow, the colour encapsulating that lily-livered, no-good, Cooper Vance, the coward.

She slashed at the canvas with her brush over and over, combining colours in a frightening free-for-all of rage and disappointment. The painting would never see the light of day but it soothed her battered soul nonetheless.

The colours summed up her mood perfectly. She'd never felt as angry, gloomy, or scared as she did right now, the afternoon she would lose her dream. Not to mention renege on a promise to Barb that she'd vowed to keep.

Cooper Vance was evil. He'd used her, schmoozing up to her, acting like a friend, playing on her emotions, initiating her into the best sex she'd ever had in her life, making her love him and all for what? To whip the gallery right out from under her nose anyway.

What Cooper wanted, Cooper got, and she'd been justified in calling him a selfish spoiled brat earlier. She just wished she'd had the guts to say more.

Slumping forward, she rested her forehead against the canvas, not caring about the oil paint imprint. She'd never felt so alone, so defeated…and in the midst of her absolute misery a thought so profound, so awful, pierced her gloom.

What had she thought a few seconds ago? Something about making her love him?

She loved him? Was she out of her mind?

No way. It must be the stress sending her loopy. She'd heard about people going crazy with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Maybe her bout had set in early?

She couldn't love him.

He was cocky, self-centred, and a heartless businessman. He had insinuated his way into her life and got under her skin before flaying it with cold, calculated precision, all in the name of sealing his precious deal.

The very idea she could love a guy like that was preposterous.

But what if you do ?

"Hell," she muttered, sitting bolt upright and staring blankly at the vivid canvas, wishing she could turn the clock back a few minutes and wipe out her insane thoughts.

Because once her stupid inner self had raised the possibility, she knew without a doubt the truth would destroy her and she wanted to head-bang the canvas repeatedly in the hope it would knock some sense into her.

" Bella , are you here?"

Ariel hadn't heard the chimes signalling Sofia's entrance into the gallery—the fault of her insane inner voice whispering crazy stuff about loving Cooper Vance—and she wasn't in the mood for a chat.

Maybe if she pleaded a headache she could get rid of her friend, close up for the day, and harass some poor courier to deliver a bomb along with the signed papers to Cooper?

Thanks to him, she had no option but to sign his stupid proposal courtesy of his traitorous deadline.

"I'm in the studio, Sofia," she called out, cleaning her brushes and palette out of habit rather than a driving necessity to do so.

Besides, she needed something to do with her hands other than put the finishing flourish on the document signalling her ultimate demise.

"There you are, my beautiful girl." Sofia bustled into the studio, dressed in head to toe fuchsia and sporting a hat boasting massive feathers that could take out a person's eye at twenty paces. "How are you?"

Ariel turned from the sink and rubbed her hands down the front of her smock. "I have a headache."

To her surprise, Sofia laughed rather than cooed in concern. "Must be all that paint seeping into your brain," she said, pointing to Ariel's forehead and grinning, her perfectly capped teeth in stark contrast to the bright pink of her dress.

Ariel managed a rueful smile as she picked up a nearby rag and swiped at her forehead. "I forgot in all the excitement."

"Excitement?" Sofia's nose twitched at the faintest hint of gossip usually and, like a rabbit sensing a juicy carrot, her nostrils quivered.

"Yes, the excitement of trying out a new technique. I read about a tribe in Africa who only paint with their heads so thought I'd try it. Want to see the results?"

Ariel's grin broadened at Sofia's confusion. In a way, Sofia's impromptu visit had achieved a miracle already. She'd smiled, when a few minutes earlier it had felt like she'd never smile again.

"What on earth is that?" Sofia's hands flew to her mouth as she stared at the canvas, her shocked gaze darting between the painting to Ariel's face and back again.

"You don't like it?"

"It's horrible." She tut-tutted. "It's nasty. Angry. Ugly." She waggled her finger. "No, no, no, this is not you at all."

Ariel stood alongside Sofia and stared at the canvas, the vivid streaks of red, black, and yellow telling an emotional story she couldn't hide.

"I take it you don't want to buy this one for your collection?" Ariel asked, slightly embarrassed as she cast a critical eye over the painting. Usually, she expressed herself through her art, a way to feel good about the world, a cathartic experience. But seeing the angry slashes of vibrant paint saddened her and reminded her exactly why she'd picked up the brush on the return from Cooper's office.

She'd needed to debrief, to off-load, to express the devastation wreaking havoc on her psyche and painting had been her only option. Sadly, it hadn't helped, and now she had to allay Sofia's qualms before she blurted the whole sorry tale to her friend.

"What is it, bella ? What is the problem?" Sofia grabbed her hands and squeezed, her coal-black eyes beseeching, a frown creasing her brow.

"No problem," Ariel said, using every ounce of self control not to fall into Sofia's arms like a babbling mess.

"Is it money? You need more than what the commission brought you? I can give it to you right now." Sofia released her hands to scramble in her handbag for the cheque book Ariel knew she always kept on her ‘in case of a bargain'. Nobody used cheques these days but Sofia was old school—cash was king, apparently—and credit cards were for suckers.

Ariel laid a hand on Sofia's arm, stilling the scrambling woman. "I don't need money," I need a miracle , "but thanks for offering."

"You sure?" Sofia didn't appear reassured, studying Ariel's face with an intensity that bordered on uncomfortable.

"I'm sure."

Ariel could never ask Sofia for the money to buy out the lease on the gallery. She would never risk their precious friendship over a loan she had no way of repaying.

Aunt Barb had taught her many things, one of them being never borrow more than you can repay, and she'd adhered to that policy her entire life; which explained why she didn't own a car, had no mortgage, and paid her rent on time most months.

Until now.

"Okay. In that case, I dropped by to invite you over for dinner tomorrow night." Sofia paused, and Ariel didn't like her sly grin. "And I thought you might like to bring that delightful young man of yours. He likes lasagna?"

"No!"

"No?"

Ariel calmed her voice with effort. "What I mean is, Cooper isn't my young man. He's busy with work and I'm busy here, so we won't be seeing much of each other anymore."

Try never. Which would be too soon for her.

Sofia's mouth drooped in disappointment. "What a shame. Cooper is a nice boy. Excellent manners, such class, so handsome."

Nice boy? Ariel tried not to choke on the lump of disgust lodged in her throat.

"Aah…now I understand." Sofia pointed at the painting and grimaced. "You are very sad about not seeing him anymore. You love him and you are pining for him. It all makes sense now."

"I don't love him."

The moment the denial left her lips, Ariel knew losing the gallery didn't make her want to weep as much as the thought of losing Cooper.

For once, Sofia didn't push or probe or offer a ten minute matchmaking lecture. "Don't worry, bella . It will all work out in the end."

As Sofia wrapped her in a smothering hug, Ariel seriously doubted it.