Closer (14 page)

“Which means what?  You have the right to put up our pictures for everyone to see?”

“You say that like you are ashamed of them.”  Enzo reached out and ensnared her hand, drawing her into his personal space.  “But I am not ashamed.  I told you exactly what I wanted to do with them when I was taking them because they are a declaration of my love.  You didn’t believe me then.  And you still don’t believe me.”

He pulled her against his smooth chest beneath the open neckline of his white painter’s shirt.  His sleeves were rolled up past his forearms, showing off his massive tattoo. 
The one he got for her
.  Two snakes entwined around an apple—a symbol of the Garden of Eden. 
His primal, eternal love for her
.  She closed her eyes and inhaled his seductive scent. 
Varnish and
honeycomb candles
.  He often burned candles in his studio while working late at night—the same candles he burned whenever they made love in the dark.  Her mind flashed to all the times she had lain in his bed, entangled within his strong possessive arms, wanting nothing more in life than her time with him never to end.  She caught herself missing him more than she should and attempted to push away.

“No, you’re wrong,” she whispered.  “I did believe you then, but now I know that was a mistake.  One I won’t make again.” 

Her mind traveled back to those days.  He
had
promised her that he would showcase the photographs in the most prestigious art galleries around the world.  But that was when he was still a fledgling art student at the School of the Art Institute, and back then, the possibility of viewing his work on display in the museum’s temporary exhibits seemed like a romantic compliment, not a voyeuristic peep show.

“Now, I realize you’re a bigger whore than I thought.”

“I love it when you say these things to me.” He swept his lips against her ear.  “And Sarah told me that you said you don’t care about me anymore.  But I knew she was wrong.  You still care about me—about us—and your anger proves it.”

“No—” She pressed back on him, but he secured his forearm around the back of her waist.

“I still remember what made me take every photograph because I remember every single moment that I have spent with you.”

She shut her eyes, pained by the familiarity of his touch and the tenderness of his confession.

“Let me go, Enzo.”  She whispered her plea, and he dismissed it.

“I cannot forget everything you mean to me, just because you have decided not to forgive me.  Nothing has changed for me and these photographs prove it.” 

Without warning, Sven cut between them, flinging Enzo’s arm away from her waist with a violent jolt. 

“She asked to be let go,” he asserted, shoving the full force of his palm against Enzo’s torso, driving him backwards. 

Enzo recovered and closed the gap again.  Sven squared off with him, eye-to-eye—both men equal in height, prowess, and pride.  Inez bit her fake fingernail.  Her ex-boyfriend and her faux boyfriend wanted to murder each other while surrounded by half-naked photos of her. 
God, how did her love life suddenly become an epic telenovela?

She stared at Sven’s threatening stance, realizing he intended to start a fight. He tossed down his cane, confirming her fear that he was more than capable of throwing the first punch than she thought.

“Please don’t, Sven.  Not here.  Not now.”  She reined him in by the arm. 

“So this is the new rich boyfriend?” Enzo said it like an accusation, as if he had already heard all about him.  Then, he scanned Sven’s business shirt and formal dress pants and sneered at Inez. “I don’t believe it.”

“Why?” she countered.

“Because you would never date someone who looks like a…dentist.”

“Architect, asshole.” Inez spat back. “Which means he’s a true artist who actually knows how to build something useful rather than a fake artist like you who exploits smutty photographs of his ex-girlfriend without her permission.”

“Without your permission?” He scoffed and pointed at the most seductive portrait in the room—a close-up of Inez’s face, eyes closed, head resting on a pillow, chin tilted upward as her mouth slackened with arousal. 

“Look at your face.”  Enzo’s fierce black eyes flashed as he edged closer to her. “Do you remember how much you begged for me never to stop?” 

He drew closer and touched her cheek.  In a brief moment of weakness, she acquiesced before brushing him off.

“
Claro, mi amor. 
I had much more than your permission
. 
I had your cooperation.  You just don’t want to admit it in front of your new boyfriend.”

“How much do you want for them?” Sven challenged him.

“How much?” Enzo cocked a glance of interest at Sven. 

“I’ll pay you for them.  All of them.  Name your price.”

Enzo laughed, his belittling amusement ending in a dry smoker’s cough. “They’re not for sale and neither is she.”

Like his possession, Enzo seized Inez by the wrist and pulled her across the invisible line dividing the two men. 

“No—” She fought against him and quickly reclaimed her position next to Sven.

“How much?” Sven insisted, sliding his arm around Inez.  “How much for that one?”

Sven pointed at the portrait of Inez’s full arousal, as if he sensed it was the photograph she wanted taken down the most.

Enzo ignored him and settled his dark, brooding glare onto Inez. “You are upset at me for what I did while I was in Buenos Aires, but that is unfair because I could have told you nothing.  Instead, I told you everything.”

Inez rolled her eyes.  “Whatever, Enzo.  I get that celibacy isn’t the coolest thing when you’re Rico Suave out tangoing every night, but I didn’t expect you to become the Champion of Whoredom either.”

“Inez,” Enzo warned her, his accent turning sharper and more aggressive.  “My life in Argentina has always been separate from my life here.  You have always known that.  But now, I am back and I want you back with me.”

He held out his hand for her—his final attempt to bid her away from Sven. 

Their eyes locked.  She could feel Sven’s possessive grasp, persuading her not to leave his side and she drew strength from it.

“You didn’t name a price, so I will name one for you,” Sven said, slipping out the handkerchief from his pocket and peeling off endless one hundred dollar bills like disposable tissues.  He flicked them onto the gallery floor like he was dumping garbage at Enzo’s feet. 

Enzo’s jawline flinched as he gazed down at the cash.  He was counting the bills, just like Inez. 
Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen…Fifteen hundred dollars
.

“Here, even more.”  Sven tore off five more bills and tossed them into the air like worthless confetti.

Inez locked eyes with Enzo. 
Had he meant what he said?
  This was the test.  Were the photographs an expression of his love for her?  Or were they something he would easily sell off to another man for the right price? 

Enzo glared back at her.  When he seemed certain that she had made her choice, he turned to the seductive portrait of Inez and unhinged it from the wall.

“We were lovers every night of every day.”  He raised his voice, intentionally loud and brash, garnering attention from every spectator in the gallery before tossing the canvas at Sven who caught it by its rim.  “And still, I could never make her come.  Maybe you will be luckier with that than me.”

Bastard
.  She swept up Sven’s cane and charged at him until Sven restrained her into his arms.  He cradled her body into his lustful embrace and kissed her with a ferocity that tamed every angry impulse flaring inside her.  His wet hot tongue and supple lips entwined with her own, arousing the deepest part of her soul with burning, yearning desire.  It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise of more to come if she would have him.

As swiftly as he swept her back for his kiss, he swept her up to face the man who had lost what he had gained.

“I already have been lucky,” Sven punctuated, grazing his thumb over Inez’s lower lip.  “Many times over.  And so has she.”

Chapter Twelve

“You’re unusually quiet.”

Sven’s soft accent interrupted her thoughts. 

She had been gazing out the window of his Rolls Royce at the children frolicking through the puddles of the Crown Fountain in Millennium Park.  The children screamed with glee and darted merrily across the black granite pavement, glazed with water. 
So happy and carefree
.  It was one of those magical autumn afternoons, deceptively warm and sunny, as if the twilight chill in the air was nothing more than a cruel joke rather than the inevitability of colder weather.  Inez had lived in Chicago her whole life, and never once had she pranced through the fountain’s pooling waters like those children, barefoot and unrestrained while anxiously waiting at the base of the looming black towers for the cascading swell to crash down upon them.

“I don’t have much to say.” She shrugged because it was the truth.  She didn’t feel like talking after what had happened at the museum, and the last thing she wanted to talk about was Enzo.

“I should apologize to you…” Sven said, then paused. 

Inez had only known him for two short days, and it was one of the few times she had truly seen him hesitate before speaking his mind.

“Apologize for what?” she asked, puzzled at his words.

“For what happened in the gallery.  I took liberties that I shouldn’t have.”

Inez peered out her window again.  She knew what he meant, but she wanted to avoid the whole discussion.

“I don’t know what came over me,” he continued.  “I suppose I became jealous.”

“Jealous?” Inez voice raised slightly in surprise.  “Of what?”

“Of you, of course.” 

He cleared his throat and smoothed down the imaginary wrinkle in his shale grey dress pants.  Silence lingered between them.  “I still need your assistance this week, and I can’t afford an ex-boyfriend coming into the picture and sweeping you away from me.”

“There’s no sweeping me away,” Inez replied, nipping at her fingernail.  “Trust me, Sven.  I’m not a princess looking for my Prince Charming, and I don’t believe in fairy tales anymore, so no one is going to be sweeping me anywhere.  Especially not Enzo.”

Her gaze fell onto the portrait of her—the one that he had bought for two thousand dollars.

“You realize you overpaid for that?” She nodded at the portrait, hiding the true pain it caused her to have to look at it.

“No,” he countered, hoisting the canvas onto his lap and turning it towards her like a mirror.  “I was willing to pay even more it—for all of them.”

She dropped her fingernail from her mouth, realizing she was gnawing at it like a squirrel.  “What are you going to do with it?”

“What would you like me to do with it?”

She stared at it, filled with rage and resentment. “Burn it.”

“
Tsk,
” he clucked, as if her suggestion was unfathomable.  “You’re angry.  I understand.  But despite the fact that your ex-boyfriend is an opportunistic bastard, he does have an eye for lovely things.”

“He used me, Sven.  You’re a man.  You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand better than you think.  You feel betrayed,” he replied, letting her know that he recognized her pain. “But are you really so angry about the fact that your ex-boyfriend displayed naked pictures of you to the public without your permission?  Or is it because you are still in love with him?”

His question echoed her question—the same one she posed to him after their dinner with Celeste.

She shrugged off his insinuation like it was a distasteful joke and glanced back out the window, avoiding his gaze.  “Don’t worry, Sven.  I’m not going to quit on you and go back to hooking up with Enzo.  If that’s what you’re afraid of.”

He gazed at her sideways, as if he was deciphering the meaning of ‘hooking up’.  “No, I’m not afraid of that.  Ebony’s sent over your gown, and I am afraid that you are going to hate it.”

She studied his smile, sly and baiting.  “More ridiculous lingerie?”

“Perhaps.” He nodded.

“And heels?”

“A certainty.”

“You’re right.  I hate it already.”

He nodded as their fleeting amusement evaporated into silence.  Lowering his voice, he made a confession. “Inez…tonight is very important for me and my career, but there’s no way that I can navigate it alone.  There will be too many unfamiliar faces and wide, open spaces to navigate…” He paused, as if he wanted to ensure that she understood him.  “There will be many real estate developers and investors there.  And many of them are going to want to discuss future commissions.  Normally, it would be one of the highlights of my career. But these days, it feels like I’m attending my own funeral, and I’m certain that I wouldn’t be able to face it without you there to assist me.”

She stared at him—the sharp angles of his profile, his threatening eyepatch, his crisp ice blue dress shirt—but she only focused on the rare whisper of vulnerability in his tone because it disarmed her.

“I understand,” she whispered, wondering if she was imagining the sensation of his fingertips touching her own.  She dared not look down to confirm the truth.

Suddenly, an unmistakable squeal of delight burst through the window pane.

“The children at the fountain,” she clarified, noting how he squinted hard to ascertain the source of the noise.

“Crown Fountain?”

“Yes.”

“I know the architecture firm who executed its design.  They won the commission over Hans and me.”

“Really, why?”

“Because I wanted to erect a solar tower for recharging cell phones on that site rather than a fountain for screaming little children.”

He unclipped his seat belt and leaned over her lap, reaching for the button to lower her window.  Shrieks of excitement flowed into the car like an uncontrollable breeze.

“A solar tower for charging cell phones?  That would have been vomit worthy.” Inez contemplated the horror of what had barely been avoided.

“Well, I never understood the trite proposition for another public fountain…” His voice trailed off as he closed his eyes, taking in the shrill sound of jubilation.  “Until now.”  He turned his attention to is driver.  “James, stop here please.”

“Here, sir?” James asked.  Inez shared his concern.  It was rush hour traffic on Michigan Avenue and if they stopped, they would be blocking an entire lane.

“Here,” Sven insisted to his driver who immediately obeyed him and pulled to the curb.

“Sven, what are we doing?”

“We’re going to have some fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yes, fun,” he said before flinging open his door.  Inez cringed as the blurry streaks of speeding yellow taxi swerved and blared their horns.  Sven disappeared around the rear of the vehicle and re-appeared on Inez’s side.

“You’re scaring me, Sven,” she joked, half-heartedly, peering out at him through her window.  There was ferocity in his face.  She recognized that look—it was stern with determination. 

He didn’t respond with words.  Instead, he whipped open her door and grabbed her by the hand, dragging her out of the car with a physical strength that startled her. 

“Go home, James,” he called out to his driver.  “We’ll walk back to the penthouse.” 

James raised his hand in acknowledgement.  Sven slammed the door and Inez watched the Rolls Royce tear away from the curb.  Taxi horns bleated as it crossed into their path.

“You lead.”  He took up her hand into his own and squinted past the streaming sunlight. “Let’s find the fun.”

“You act as though it’s some kind of treasure hunt,” she replied.  “Finding the fun.”

“Yes, perhaps it is.  And if we both fail to find it, then we’ll know there’s no hope for us.”

“I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to that.”

“Come on,” he said with an encouraging shake of her hand. 

“Okay, where?”  She sighed, supremely annoyed that they were actually out of the car in the middle of Millennium Park rather than lazily cruising through traffic in his Rolls Royce.  His hand felt like an anchor, willing to drown her at the bottom of the sea.

“Surprise me.” He said it like a challenge—for both of them.

She acquiesced and led them towards the center plaza between a pair of towering glass brick fountains.  Like a football Jumbotron, surreal video images of local residents flashed across their flat-paneled walls. 

“My favorite is when they pretend to shoot water out of their mouth, and it actually happens,” Inez said, staring up at the goofy video image of a woman puckering her lips and blowing up her cheeks like a fish before a stream of water jetted out of her mouth.  The cannon blast struck a trio of unsuspecting teenage girls who had been trailing their bare feet through the shallow pool of water.  Startled and drenched, they shrieked and shivered, pointing up at the offender who had changed to a video image of a young boy, smiling with the innocence of childhood, like he could do no harm.

“See?  That’s how you can tell who the tourists are,” Inez said as her eyes lingered on the three girls. 

She suddenly realized Sven had let go of her hand and abandoned her.  She glanced back over her shoulder and spotted him on the edge of the pooling water.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking off my shoes.”  He had removed both his dress shoes and socks, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Why?” she insisted.

“Because they’re ten thousand dollar Crivellaro leather, and I’d rather not ruin them in the water.”

Inez watched him meticulously roll the hem of his dress pants up to his knees.  “I’m not certain whether I’m more horrified that you’re wearing ten thousand dollar shoes or that you’re willing to make yourself look like a Dutch milking boy.”

He performed a surprisingly authentic barn jig, just to spite her.

She looked away, hiding her smile.  “This isn’t fun.  It’s ridiculous.”

He submerged his foot into the pooling water, enduring the chill.  “It doesn’t feel ridiculous.  It feels liberating.” He inhaled and swept his gaze across the skyscrapers along Michigan Avenue. “In fact, I feel like I’m seeing more clearly than I have all week.  Come on.  Your turn now.” He held out his hand to coax her in.

“Me?  No, no way.  This is how people get toe fungus, Sven.”

“You honestly expect me to believe that you have no desire to take off your shoes and wade through this water?”

“No, none.” 

“I think you’re afraid to show me your bare feet.  What’s the matter, Miss Sanchez?  Is that why you despise heels so much?  Do you have fat feet and stubby little toes?”

“I can’t believe you’re actually mocking my feet.”

He hiked his cuffed pants higher and performed his ridiculous jig again.

Inez crossed her arms and glared at him.  “If you keep doing that, I’m going to pretend that I don’t know you.”

“I think you’re secretly jealous that I’m having f-u-n and you’re not.”

“News flash, Sven… if you think
this
is the epitome of fun, clearly you’ve been hanging out with the wrong people for far too long.”

“Perhaps.” He splashed through the water with broad, scuba fin steps, intentionally circling closer and closer to her. “But I’m pretty certain that the epitome of fun is making you shriek like that.”

He nodded over at a little girl who wailed with ear-piercing glee.  The cascading waterfall had just swelled over the top of the two-story tower and crashed down upon her. 

“Our turn.”  He suddenly swept Inez into his arms and wrestled her like a flailing kite to the base of the fountain.

“No, please, Sven…Don’t!” But it was too late.  Holding her in his arms, he forced her against the side of the tower before a cresting swell of water surged over its top and shattered like a pane of glass, dousing them completely. 

A shriek escaped Inez’s throat before she recognized the sound of her own horror.  Then, she recognized the sound of Sven’s merciless laughter, enjoying every minute of it. 

She peered through her black sodden bangs, plastered against her eyes, barely able to comprehend the sight of Sven, adjusting his black eyepatch and running his hand through his own drenched, disheveled hair. 

“I—I—can-not—be-e-e-lieve you just di-i-iii-d that.” 

She was freezing and stuttering, and the only thing she could think about was the fact that every part of her body was soaked, right down to her panties. 

He gazed at her with an obnoxious cocky grin.  “Are we having fun yet?”

Shell-shocked, she pressed herself against his own waterlogged shirt.  His hard chest shook with laughter as his strong, protective arm wrapped around her body and nudged her away from the gaggle of squealing children who had lined up behind them, signaling the next assault was about to crash upon them.

“Come on,” he encouraged her, hugging her shivering body and trying to conceal his own sadistic amusement. “Let’s go back to my penthouse and get you undressed.”