Fixer: A Bad Boy Romance (46 page)

"Worth a shot. Have a good night," Carter said, and I ended the call.

I lowered my phone from my ear, smiled at it, and leaned back against the soft and well-used cushions of the couch. Salem, apparently done eating and no longer angry with me for deserting him, wandered over and hopped up onto the couch. He tried the cushion next to me but, apparently not finding it to his liking, instead attempted to crawl into my lap.

"Hi there, you fat bastard," I told him fondly, scratching him behind the ears. "You might not know this, but your owner's been going through some rough times as of late. Maybe you've heard me spilling out my troubles to you one of the last dozen times. Remember those?"

Salem just purred louder and squeezed his ears apart as I scratched him, tilting his face up so that I could run my fingernails along the line of his cheek.

"Yeah, you definitely remember," I went on. "Well, guess what?"

He didn't ask, but I paused for a moment for him anyway. Sure, if Carter could see me now, he'd definitely think that I was acting like a crazy cat lady, but talking to Salem really did sometimes help me feel better. He always listened - and, unlike Portia, never interrupted or made sexual insinuations.

"I think that things are finally starting to look up," I told him, running my hand down along the length of his spine and feeling how he arched his back against the pressure. "The last guy, Barry, is now all settled and out of the way. And there's a new man taking his place." I closed my eyes and pictured Carter, his hot eyes on me as he gently caressed me and memorized every inch of my body with his hands, tracing me, loving me, not caring about any of my imperfections. "A much nicer man."

Salem tilted his head around to look back at me and blinked, slowly. I'd read somewhere that this was a sign of trust for cats, a way of acknowledging that they felt safe around you.

"Yeah, that's about how I feel with him, too," I told him, scratching him under the chin. "Of course, I'm going to take things slower than you do - you go running up to anyone new in hopes of getting scratches - but he really makes me feel safe."

I settled back a little further on the couch, closing my eyes. I knew that, given the lateness of the hour, I really ought to head off to my bed. I still had a big day tomorrow - I needed to find the contact information for these art movers that Onyx had mentioned, arrange for them to come pick up the statue, and collect the check from Albrecht! Would I need to go out to his mansion to get paid in person?

And then, once I had the check in my hands, I could finally hand off the payment to Barry, close that chapter of my life. Then, with that weight off my shoulders, I'd finally be able to start looking forward, no longer just filling in the holes in the road of my life so far, but looking forward to my next steps of my journey.

I felt my eyelids growing heavy, but I forced them to stay open, glancing around the bare little apartment. Oh, and maybe I'd have some money left over to spruce up this place, make it seem a little less depressing!

For a moment, I remembered how wonderful Carter's little house had looked, how it felt both comfortable and lived-in, but stylish and fashionable at the same time. He might not be gay - definitely not gay, I reminded myself as I remembered how we spent the earlier part of the evening getting very busy together - but he possessed the best decorating style of any guy I'd ever met.

My apartment didn't come close to matching the style of his house, and I knew that it would never look as good as his place. He had more space, better design, more light coming in through larger windows.

Still, I could maybe replace those old curtains, I thought as I looked around. Get some wood furniture instead of the cheap particle board stuff that I'd been forced to accept when I couldn't afford anything else, maybe add a couple accent rugs to brighten the place up, get Salem a cat tower where he could focus his scratching activities (and perch to stare imperiously at me, his subject and slave), perhaps add a print or two, framed, to hang on the walls...

A yawn interrupted my brainstorming, forcing my eyes shut as it emerged from my mouth. "Okay, clearly time for bed," I said once I managed to regain control of my jaw. I headed for the bedroom, Salem still tailing after me.

I considered taking a shower, getting cleaned up after my sweaty activities with Carter from earlier, but any remaining dregs of motivation and energy fled as soon as I sat down on the bed. I barely had the strength to peel off the rest of my date outfit before I was down with my head on my pillow, reaching out with one hand and feeling around for the little pull string attached to my bedside table lamp.

I didn't even feel Salem jump up onto the foot of the bed, where he curled up to nap alongside me. I was out only seconds after my light turned off, exhausted by feeling less stressed and more at peace than I could remember for years.

The next day would bring more challenges, and I knew that there would be more stress in the future, but for now, I felt content. My old troubles were falling away, and I had new opportunities shining on the near horizon. A sexy, warm, wonderful man was interested in me, and he seemed willing to take things slow, to let me slowly work my way back into the chilly water of the dating pool once again.

And, although I hadn't nearly expected to see working at the Halesford Gallery as anything but a chore, I really didn't mind the job that much. Actually, I kind of enjoyed it, in a quiet sort of way. Most of my days were spent sitting alone in the gallery and waiting for customers to wander in, but I liked looking at the art, talking to the senior citizens who browsed the pictures and sculptures, and watching someone's eyes light up when they fell in love with an art piece.

I wasn't going to keep working at the gallery just so that I could keep on seeing Carter (and maybe Onyx, too), but I felt, in some strange little way, like I'd found a new home. I felt comfortable there, and I needed a source of comfort in my life.

Still, even in my sleep, I occasionally rolled back and forth, the stray thought passing through my otherwise pleasant dreams and making me frown. I'd tackled plenty of challenges so far - but what would I have to face next?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

*

The next day...

Carter crossed his arms across his chest as he looked at the statue standing on the pallet in front of him. He resolutely stood with his legs open, although a little part of him felt tempted to cross his knees in a gesture of unconscious embarrassment at the possibility of being compared to the behemoth that stood in front of him.

It's just stone, not even to scale, he reminded himself. Onyx probably makes the damn things because he's trying to over-compensate for a lack of something, not because he's trying to brag about what he's packing.

Of course, Carter had also crossed paths with a couple women who enthusiastically insisted that the artist worked from an excellent real-life model, but he really, really didn't want to think about that. Especially not now, here, with the man himself standing beside him.

"The flagship of my series," Onyx murmured, perhaps the only one not intimidated by the size of his art. "I almost broke down this block for smaller pieces, but the lines were so perfect, so well defined, I had to give them shape. It practically shaped itself; I just wielded the hammer and chisel, but the sculpture was inside the stone the whole time."

"Uh huh." Carter nodded along, not really listening. Damn, the thing even had what looked like a little bead of sweat running down the shaft!

Or at least, he hoped that it was supposed to just be sweat.

"It looks bigger in person," Robert Albrecht commented, standing on Carter's other side. "I mean, I saw the pictures, but I didn't realize that it would be this, well..."

"Big," Carter finished the buyer's sentence for him. "And it's all yours, buddy."

Albrecht turned towards Carter, although he needed to put in a little more effort to pull his eyes away from the statue. "Yeah, thanks to you. You do realize that this is a big cost even for me, right?"

"I told you, this makes us even," Carter said, but the older man shook head.

"No, more than even. What possessed you to call me up and insist that I really ought to buy this piece, that you'd see it as a huge favor?"

Carter didn't reply, but Albrecht kept on looking at him, still frowning. "It's the girl, isn't it?" he finally asked. "That's why?"

Distinctly aware of Onyx listening in to the entire conversation, Carter shook his head. "Honestly, I think that the piece would be a great fit for you, Robert," he lied, turning and patting the older real estate millionaire on the shoulder. "Come on, right out in front of your house, maybe with a fountain nearby - can't you just see it?"

Albrecht just made a low noise in the back of his throat. "I guess it could work, if it's understated enough," he allowed.

"That's the spirit. Now, why don't you go outside and see if the movers are ready to bring the forklift in and get this thing loaded up and off to your house?"

Albrecht didn't look especially cheery, but he did as Carter suggested, heading for the exit from Onyx's studio. At least, Carter thought to himself, Onyx had a roll-up garage door so that the forklift could come in and pick the sculpture up directly, instead of requiring the efforts of several sweaty, muscled men to haul it out to a truck.

With Albrecht gone, Onyx sidled a step closer to Carter, still looking at the statue as if recollecting how he'd carved the thing. "I couldn't help but overhear," he said softly.

"That's too bad," Carter fired back, but Onyx didn't even blink.

"And I also remember hearing how, without a big sale, one just like this, Rebecca Grace would be in serious financial trouble."

"Really? I didn't know anything about that," Carter said, lying through his teeth. He risked a glance sidelong over at Onyx, and saw the other man smiling ever so slightly, showing just the smallest glint of his white teeth against his light brown skin.

"And then, at the eleventh hour, the notoriously flighty and unpredictable millionaire Robert Albrecht decides to commit to a purchase, saving her from all those money woes that were about to sweep Rebecca away."

"Sometimes, people get lucky."

"Sometimes," Onyx agreed, but he didn't sound convinced in the slightest.

The two men stood there for another minute, both of them looking at the giant black stone cock on the pallet. Distantly, from outside the warehouse, Carter heard the rumble of the forklift's engine turning over.

"You've invited her over to the studio a couple times," Carter said after another minute of silence.

He glanced sideways at Onyx to see if these words provoked a reaction, but if they did, the artist did a good job of hiding them. "She's come over and viewed some of my pieces."

"I bet." Normally, Carter considered himself pretty adept at reading others, but Onyx proved more challenging than most; the man's face might as well have been carved from the same stone that he used to create his sculptures. A little voice told him that it might be best to hold his tongue here, but he plunged on regardless. "You know, she spent last night with me."

"The whole night?"

"Well, no, not the whole night," he answered, stung a little that Onyx managed to ask the one question capable of deflating his story somewhat. "But the time we did spend together was quite... intimate."

That last word hung in the air between the two men for a minute, both of them feeling it out and getting a sense for it.

"The game's not won yet," Onyx finally said. "This is just the first quarter. She might come to her senses at some point."

"Or she already has," Carter countered, but he didn't exactly like the thought of what challenges might lay ahead. For someone like Onyx, with a legitimate reason to keep on showing up at the gallery, and his obvious, almost overwhelming sex appeal... the man literally carved dicks for a living, by god!

Another minute passed, both of the men carefully not saying anything. Carter caught the rumble of the garage door to Onyx's studio lifting up, as the forklift finally headed in to come and collect the pallet. From here, Carter knew, it would be loaded up into the back of an enclosed truck, and then the forklift itself would be rolled up onto the back of another truck. Both trucks would head over to Albrecht's mansion, where the process would run in reverse. Finally, once Albrecht had decided where he wanted to proudly display his newest art acquisition, the sculpture would carefully be removed from the pallet so that it could settle into its new, more permanent home.

"I'm fronting her the money for the commission on this sale," Carter said, as they moved aside to give the forklift operator room to maneuver his vehicle forward. "She's very appreciative."

Was that a wince that he saw for an instant on Onyx's face? "Mixing money and emotion is never a good idea," he replied, but he didn't sound quite relaxed and confident as before.

Carter just shrugged, feeling like he'd scored a point.

Of course, he told himself, this whole thing is ridiculous. There was no need for the two of them, both professionals, both of them adults, to be fighting over a young woman like a couple of boys tussling in mud on the playground.