Trifecta (29 page)

However, even with her fast track to the medical field, she spent more time waiting in doctors’ offices than anyone.  When here for work, she couldn't cut in front of patients, but had to wait at her place last in line while the doctors did their work.

On most days she found this bit of quiet time welcome.  Time to catch up on emails, text Russell and Jason, or plan her sales, but right now sitting in Dr. Dalton's office, she couldn't focus enough to play a game of solitaire.  In the course of thirty minutes her entire world changed. 

All the closeness, the confessions of love, the promises they would be together would go down as only memories.  Russell still couldn't accept them.  She knew his schedule, they didn't have any trips planned, he just didn't want to reveal them to his world, and he never would. His parents only happened by accident.  Now she could only sit in the leather chair facing Dr. Dalton's mahogany desk and wait for the diagnosis.  No wonder patients complained.

"Well, my favorite rep finally shows herself." 

She swallowed and sat up straighter in the chair.  "I want to apologize for what happened in Vegas."  This man was still her account, he had done nothing wrong and maybe if she quenched this early they could put it behind them.

"I accept your apology."  Dr. Dalton came around the desk, taking off his white coat before sitting down.  "Funny, I thought the next time I saw you in my office I would be sneaking you in the back for a kiss, not begging you to come here."

She stared straight ahead, trying not to look directly at him.  "I think threatening me was more accurate."  This was no time to get combative, and she pressed her lips together.  Her goal was to somehow get a cordial relationship with the man again.  No more inner dinner circle, just rep and doctor. 

"I didn't mean to do that.  I didn't know what else to do to get you here.  I would never call corporate.  I don't even have their number."  He leaned back in his chair.  "Can you tell me what's really going on?"

She garnered enough courage to look at him.   "I'm involved."  The first time she said it to someone she didn't think it would be Dr. Dalton and she didn't think she would be questioning it.  Maybe she wanted to say it one time to make it official before it all vanished.

"Were you involved in Vegas?" He picked up a pen and began turning it over and over in his hand.

Russell always talked about ramifications.  It was one of his favorite words, and today she realized the ramifications of that night were far reaching.  The mistakes she made were like a spotlight blaring down on her, causing her to have to shift in her chair and cross her legs.  "Things are complicated." 

"I have no doubt."  He nodded and concentrated on the pen.

"You know everyone says their life is complicated, but it's probably no more or less complicated than anyone else."  She fought the need to fling herself out of the chair and run out. "As I said I truly apologize for what happened."  Once more she could hear Russell talking about ramifications.  She should have remembered that around the time she decided to play dumb games with her top account and a man who had been nothing but nice to her.  She should have remembered that when she made love to her two best friends.  She should have remembered a lot of things.

"What if I told you that I understand and I'm willing to wait for your life to get less complicated?"  He put the pen down.

She opened her mouth, but didn't know what answer to give. 

"Don't look so surprised."  He moved his chair in and strummed his fingers on his desk.  "It is not unusual to wait for what you want.  I think you've been doing it for quite some time."

"What?"  She almost felt like looking behind her to make sure he wasn't speaking to someone else.

"When you’re a doctor it takes a lot to make us lie awake at night.  We've seen everything, we've had to tell people they are dying and then we have to go home and be able to sleep so we can get up the next day and do it again."

She found herself holding her breath.

"I lie awake at night thinking about you."  He motioned toward her.

If this man were saying this to her three months ago, her heart would have swelled enough to float her across the room.  She put her hand to her chest.  "Why?"

"When you are in my position you know what you have to do.  Know you need to settle down, but you worry if you will be satisfied."  He exhaled.  "I have no question you are that woman."

"I don't know what to say. I told you I'm involved."  The words left her mouth again, as if she were trying to convince herself.  After this she was going to go down the street to one of her normal accounts to get something to stop the throbbing in her head.  At least she would have to wait to be seen by a doctor.

"This is what I want you to do.  I want you to place a big order to get your commission, and then I want you to go home."  He pulled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch.  "Right about now the holiday gift I got you should be delivered to your home.  Just think about it."  He stood up.  "I'm sorry I have to rush this, but you can't miss the courier and I have a VIP patient coming."

She got up, or she thought she did, she didn't realize she was moving until Dr. Dalton guided her to the door and put her bag over her shoulder.

"May I apologize once more for how I got you here?"  He took her hand.  "Please consider what I said."  He bent down and gave her a kiss on her cheek.  "Go rid your life of complications." 

She stepped into the hall and turned back to him.  Complications ruled her life.  Why would Dr. Dalton step into the middle of this when he could have anyone?

"I hope you enjoy your present."  He walked back into his office and took his coat. 

"Goodbye."  She spun around and rushed toward the back exit.  Something told her she had to get home before her boyfriends intercepted her gift.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Jason?"  Russell put his bag down and for the first time in weeks, loosened his own tie. 

He stepped into the living room and turned around.  The vibe in the room was strange.  Jason would say the energy was off, Lauren would say it was creepy.  He swallowed and decided it had to be because he couldn't remember the last time he came home to an empty house.  Probably around the same time he undid his own tie.

The day had been a waste and he knew he had to leave. 

There were times when a man needed his best friend.

With Lauren on calls, he would have the perfect opportunity to talk to Jason, man to man.   They were men.  Men who loved one woman - not each other. 

He walked to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and then opted for a beer.  After opening the bottle and taking a long gulp, letting the icy liquid cool him down, he glanced in the laundry room.  Gone were the days of three hampers with three people doing their own clothes, now everything was intermingled.  Lauren joked she was going to have to label his and Jason's underwear.

He finished off the beer and put the bottle on the kitchen counter as he walked toward the bedrooms.  His old bedroom was now their bedroom, Jason's old room was now an office as they reorganized their lives, Lauren's old room turned into her own personal closet and shopping receptacle.  At the end of the hall was the garage turned Jason's studio and storage.  The door was half open, as if Jason rushed out. 

"Strange."  His best friend never left the door to his studio opened.  He never wanted anyone to snoop at his creations, and normally Russell wouldn't breach that trust, but he spied something strange in the studio. 

After a peek he turned away.  No way he was seeing right.

"No."  He couldn't snoop around like this. Go looking at someone's possessions and someone's artistic work.

His feet refused to walk away.  The brief glimpse he got of the painting left a hole in his chest that wouldn't be filled until he checked to see if he was right.  His body tightened and he clenched his fist.  If they were together the way they claimed, if Jason could touch him the way he did two nights ago, if they could live like this, it was his right to look.

             
He forced himself to turn, and stomped into the studio, hitting the door hard enough for it to slap the wall. 

There on the easel in the middle of the studio was apparently Jason's painting.   His style, his colors, his use of light and shadow.  If someone were studying the works of Jason Morgan there would be no doubt this would fall into the category of a traditional piece for him.

All except for the subject matter.

It was all three of them.  All of the three of them.  Every last inch of the three of them in a graphic, intimate moment. 

The chemical tang of oil on canvas still hung in the air and as he stepped closer, the telltale glossy paint strokes told him that his best friend had put the finishing touches on his masterpiece quite recently.

Jason had to have created this as a present to the two of them, but still Russell backed away.  It was one thing to do these things behind closed doors, another to have a picture of it. 

His back hit Jason's desk, and he stumbled knocking some papers to the floor.

More than ever he needed to talk to Jason.  He bent down, but before he could clean up his mess, he caught sight of two sketches and an email.

He supposed his best friend was done drawing book covers.  The sketches were more of the three of them in compromising positions, but the shock wasn't from the pictures, it was from the email.

The paper vibrated from his shaking as he read the words and then reread them.  He had to make sure he had this correct.

"What are you doing in here?"  Jason came bounding into the studio.

He inhaled, taking a moment to collect himself and straightened up still holding the email.

"I guess you saw my latest creation.  I sort of wanted to show you with Lauren."  Jason walked over to the painting and reached for a cover.  "I meant to hide this, but the paint was still wet and I wasn't expecting anyone to come home."

Without a word, he rubbed his chin, thankful for only one thing, he was numb, utterly numb.  Right now Jason could touch him anywhere and he wouldn't even feel it.  Too bad this didn't happen two nights ago.

"I find quite the inspiration in the three of us." Jason put the drape over the painting.

"You also find quite the profit in the three of us."  His words came out flat and he dropped the email to the floor, watching it flutter as it landed.

"What?"  Jason faced him and crossed his arms.

"I should have known."  He shook his head. 

"What are you talking about?" Jason came toward him.

He held his hand up and swallowed, shutting his eyes and remembering the words he just saw on the page.  His chest seized or was it heartache?  It didn't matter, all that mattered right now was he spoke.  "This whole thing, the three of us, it was for your art."  If he had any moisture in his mouth he would have spit the word at Jason.

"Russ."  Jason swatted his hand down.

"Stay away from me."  He pointed at Jason but wouldn't retreat.  "Now I know how you got your show.  You sold us."  He took off his glasses and wiped the sweat off his face.  "You planned this all along." 

"What I planned was the three of us being together."  Jason lowered his voice.  "What you are seeing is some inspiration I decided to put on canvas." 

His teeth ground together, scraping inside his skull and he picked up the email from the agent Jason mentioned describing in detail the show the man secured to feature his threesome, or
trifecta
artwork.  "What you planned was a sick way out of your block and into a gallery."

Jason's eyes flicked to the page and back up to him.  "I don't think you understand."

"I know better than you do."  He held the page out to his best friend.  Were those even the right words to describe him? "I know you have no bounds, I know you'll do what it takes, I know you thought this was some grand experiment."

Jason stayed silent.

"Your so-called agent even had the gall to congratulate you for seizing your passion."  He balled the paper in his fist. 

"Let me explain."  Jason cleared his throat.

"I think I'll wait to read the review.  Your agent didn't neglect to mention that Catherine Dumar will be at your show."  He took the paper, tossed it at Jason and turned to leave.

"Damn it, Russell!"  Jason caught his shoulder.  "Let me say one thing."

"Don't touch me." He tensed at this man's hand on him, spun around and pushed him away.   

"Can I say one thing?"  Jason held his hands back as if in retreat.

"Can you tell me you didn't do this for your art?" He forced himself to inhale and raised his chin.

Jason opened his mouth but said nothing.

"I don’t know who I feel more sorry for right now, you or Lauren."  He stepped forward.  "This is going to kill her." His only hope was he could intercept her before she walked in on the madness.  They started out knowing they both had to have her or it would ruin their friendship.  Now neither would have her, and their friendship was through.

"So that's it?"  Jason stood up to him nose to nose. 

"It wasn't me who decided to take twenty years and toss it."  He stared at Jason.  He knew every inch of that face maybe even better than his own, but he may as well be staring at anyone, a stranger.  "This is over."

"What's over?" 

Russell shut his eyes at Lauren's voice.

***

"What's over?"  Lauren asked the question though at the moment she could identify many things that were over, including the beat her heart was trying to make, and any hope she managed to scrounge up on the way home.

Truth be told the second she stopped in the driveway in her spot next to Russell's car, her hope took a detour.  The man was never home in the middle of a workday unless he was injured or sick.  She couldn't remember the last time he was ill, and as far as she knew, he wasn't injured, at least physically.

Upon walking into the house and finding her two boyfriends in Jason's studio, her hope tried to flee, but she dug her nails in her palm and refused to let it leave.  Russell seldom went into the studio for any length of time.  He only entered to get one of them or deliver some life altering news.  Russell saying something was over seemed about as life altering as things could get.  She tried to ignore the fact she was only home to intercept some mystery gift from another man.  Something she wasn't sure she could handle if the situation were reversed.

Now neither man would glance in her direction. "What's over?" 

If she were truly honest with herself, in the flash before Russell turned she would admit she knew what was over.  She knew once she called Russell's work.  Maybe she knew before.  She wrapped her arms around herself.

Russell faced her.

Jason shook his head.

She was glad she never opted for lunch, because right now she would be throwing it up all over papers scattered across Jason's studio floor.

Without a word Russell held a paper out to her.

She pried her hand away from herself and took the page.  It rattled as she shook, but a quick scan told her Jason got a new agent, a new show and a new chance with Catherine Dumar.  Why weren't they celebrating?  "I…" Her dry throat made her cough.  "I don't understand."

"Lauren."               Jason said her full name, and any drop of hope that remained evaporated.

"You can't explain this away." Russell took the paper from her and crumpled it in a ball.  "Why don't you show her how you got your newest show?"

She bit her lip and waited.  The scene in front of her reminding her of walking in on the middle of a horror movie where the villain came out and slashed someone with a knife for no reason except shock value.  Her trembling wouldn't stop, rattling her teeth and making it hard to focus.

"I'm not ashamed of any of my work."  Jason walked across the studio to the easel, and pulled the drape off his painting.

She blinked, once, twice, a third time.  The painting was most definitely them in the most private of moments.    If Jason would have presented her with this painting over a candlelight dinner and a bottle of wine she knew her insides would have warmed and swirled rather than seizing.  They were Jason's muse, but weren't they always?  She still didn't understand and shifted her attention to Russell, the man who knew every answer.

"He sold us out.  This whole thing was for his art."  He shook his head and filled in the blanks.

She shut her eyes and took a breath, her mind fighting to process what Russell just laid on her.  New art, new show, new agent, new chance with Catherine Dumar and a painting of the three of them having sex.    No, this wasn't true.  Jason said he loved her.  He didn't sell them.

She opened her eyes, willing the scene before her to change, waiting for Jason to say something, to deny Russell's accusations, anything.

Jason looked between her, Russell and the painting.

She pressed her lips together.

"Lauren."  Russell took two steps toward her.  "He was blocked, he got bad reviews, he concocted this."

The backs of her eyes heated with tears she didn't want to fall. 

"He pushed us and now look."  Russell motioned behind him.  "He's selling us."

"You don't know anything."  Jason rushed forward and pointed at Russell.  "You are thrilled this is happening like this, you never wanted this work, you were always trying to hide us and now you have the perfect opportunity to walk away the victim."

"Don't blame your deception on me."  Russell turned to him and pointed right back.  "You lied to us so you can profit."

"Then explain why you're home right now?"  Jason got in his face.  "Did you come home for an afternoon quickie, or could you not handle that I touched you this weekend and it turned you on?"

Lauren's vision blurred through the unshed tears, and she was partially grateful she didn't have a crystal clear view of the two men she loved going at it. 

"I was totally fine with this weekend.  I'm allowed to come home whenever I want, this is my house.  Something you would have if you could create art off something other than a literal interpretation of your life."  He inched closer to Jason and clenched his fist.

"Maybe you don't like that your life is mimicking my art."  Jason raised his chin.

Lauren held her hand out.  She had to stop this before they resorted to blows.  They were best friends.  Best friends since elementary school.  "Please."

Russell pulled back his fist.  "I may have had issues in the beginning, but I worked through them." 

"That's not true!"  Lauren lunged between them.  "That's not true and you know it."

"Lauren."  Russell caught her hand.  "You have proof of what happened right here."

"She's not ashamed."  Jason put his hand on her shoulders and pulled her back.