Max was riddled with anxiety. Her lies had grown to involve everyone in her immediate vicinity. She was rapidly sinking into a bottomless pit of quicksand, unable to move, unable to save herself, unable to keep from hurting the man she loved.
Jon took her to lunch. They didn’t talk much but he told her he loved her several times. All during the meal, he kept looking at her. That wasn’t unusual in itself, but it was the way he was looking at her that made her feel uneasy.
After their meal, Jon drove her back to the gallery. He found a parking space a block away and they held hands as they walked back to the gallery.
“Are the people who come to the opening going to be able to find places to park?” Max asked. “If everyone you invited shows up there won’t be a parking space for eight blocks.”
“Don’t worry, Millie,” Jon said. “I’ve arranged for valet parking at a lot not far from here.”
“You seem to have thought of everything.” She smiled up at him. “You’re the man in charge.”
“Am I?” Jon stopped in front of the gallery and drew her into his arms.
“Yes,” she laughed. “You’re the man.”
His voice had an edge to it. “I just want to be your man. Your only man.”
She smiled. “I thought I was the one who was feeling insecure.”
“It’s catching,” he said tersely. “So tell me, am I the only man in your life?”
“I have a father.”
“The drug pusher.”
She giggled. “Yes, and a brother.”
“And Max.” His eyes were riveted on her face.
She sighed, pressing her lips together. “We can’t forget Max.”
“I love you,” she said. “Can’t that be enough?”
“It’s enough.” He kissed her again and then held her at arm’s length, to gaze into her eyes. “I have another appointment at my office, but I can come see you later tonight. If you want me to, that is.”
“Of course I want you to come over. I’ll see you at the loft.”
A wave of dizziness roiled up from her stomach. She felt faint. She’d worked so hard on this painting and now it was ruined. She gasped for breath.
Merrick looked furious. “You put your foot through it. That’s how.”
“This big old painting fell down and I accidentally stepped on it.” Cherise was hovering over Merrick.
He raised his gaze to meet Max’s. She knew from his expression that he was about to blow.
Unsteadily, Max reached for his arm. “Let’s load this one back on the truck.” With a tight little smile on her lips, she straightened and faced Cherise Gilman, her emotions tightly in check. “This painting was valued at over twelve thousand dollars, Miss Gilman. We’ll need your insurance information to make a claim.” She experienced a small sense of satisfaction as Cherise Gilman paled. Max paused a moment and said, “I’ll need that information now, please.”
“Way to go, sis.” Merrick stood up and lifted the painting. “I witnessed the whole thing. She was hitting on me, big time, but when she saw Jon kiss you goodbye, she had some sort of little hissy fit. She knocked the painting down and put her foot through it. It was definitely deliberate.”
“Listen Merrick, I know you’re angry. I am too, but I can’t afford to completely alienate this woman.”
“I’m calling Willa,” Merrick said. “She’s your agent and she needs to know what happened.” He walked outside and had a cell phone conversation that involved a lot of angry gestures. When he returned to the gallery a muscle in his jaw was still twitching. “She’s on her way. Willa is totally pissed.”
“Merrick, could you help me get the painting back to the loft.” Max tried to give him a little smile.
“You might as well toss it in the dumpster.”
“I know, but I feel completely violated. She murdered my painting and I want to mourn in private.”
“The driver said he’ll take you to the loft. Since this crazy woman thinks I’m the artist, I think a little righteous anger is called for. Don’t worry about anything, Max. I won’t go too far.”
“I told you, babe,” he said. “That Cherise Gilman is one stone cold bitch.”
“I feel so helpless,” she said. “I need the show, but I’m so hurt and angry, I want to choke the life out of the woman.”
“Maybe someday we’ll open our own gallery. We can treat artists better than this.” Sherman rose from the futon and planted a kiss on top of her head. “Sorry babe.”
“Thanks, Sherman.” She watched him leave, shaking his head and muttering as his dreads danced.
A short time later, she heard Merrick and Willa talking as they climbed the stairs. When they entered the loft Merrick was grinning. Willa looked like she’d slain a dragon.
“Max,” he said. “You should have seen Willa in action. I mean, she’s a little terror.”
“It’s all on me,” she said. “Everything that’s happened is entirely my fault.”
“How did you arrive at that brilliant conclusion?” he asked.
“It’s my karma catching up with me. Everything is so messed up. This painting is just a symbol of everything else in my life.” Her tears erupted again.
“I know, but that one was so big and Jon said it was brilliant. I don’t have anything else to equal it.” She turned to Willa. “You said it was the cornerstone of the show.”
“That was just bullshit.” Willa leaned back on the futon and stretched out her legs. “Each and every one of your paintings is equal to this one. The only person who’s going to have a sinking spell is Oleg Cantwell. He’s been counting on this for his client.”
Max’s hands flew to her face. “Oh, I forgot about him.” She rose to stand in front of the painting and put her hand in the gash. “What am I going to do now?”
She leaned against him as they stared at the remains. “Maybe I could cut it up and make a smaller canvas.”
“I’ll help,” he said.
“She is, isn’t she?” Merrick removed the duvet and lifted her in his arms. “You should have seen her at the gallery. She’s amazing.”
“Willa has always been amazing. It’s about time you got around to noticing.” Max closed the door behind them and turned back to the painting.
“I can’t believe she’d do such a thing,” he said.
She shot him a look. “Believe it.”
“How upset is Max?”
“Beyond pissed. This was a commissioned work for your friend Oleg Cantwell. Now Max has to start from scratch.”
“Sorry. It was a magnificent work,” Jon put his arm around her shoulder.
“I was told that she knocked it down and put her foot through it after watching you kiss me outside the gallery.” She turned to face him. “What could make a woman that angry? Why would seeing her old friend kiss someone cause her to flip out and destroy a painting?”
“What are you implying?”
“That there’s more to your relationship with her than you’re telling me.” She turned away from him and went to stare out the bank of windows on the north wall. “Look, Jon, I know I’m not the first woman in your life, but if you’re in the middle of an affair with Cherise Gilman, let me out.”
He followed her and lightly massaged the tense muscles in her shoulders. “I’m not involved with Cherise. It was never serious. We only had a few dates. When I got to know her I found I didn’t want to continue, so I bowed out. I didn’t know she had any leftover feelings.”
“Apparently she does.”
She brushed away the tear that trailed down her cheek. “You broke up with Cherise when you got to know her better. Perhaps you should get to know me before you make such broad statements.”
“Okay,” he said. “After the opening, we’ll take a trip far away from everyone and everything we know. We’ll go to Aruba or Cayman and walk on the beach and watch sunsets together until we know enough about each other to make a lifetime commitment.”
She sniffled and gave him a dimpled grin. “That sounds like heaven.”
“Anywhere we’re together is heaven.”
“I have to go to the gallery in hell tomorrow to help hang the paintings. I dread facing Cherise.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll be embarrassed over her behavior.”
“I’ll get through it, but I’m really tired. It’s been an emotional day. Would you forgive me if I turn in early?”
“Wow!”
“What do you think?”
“Put down that knife and I’ll tell you.”
“Smart ass.”
“It’s amazing. What gave you the idea to do this? It’s not like anything you’ve ever done.”
He turned to stare at her, his mouth agape. “Max, you’re speaking a foreign language. Could you give me a down and dirty translation?”
She snorted. “No, Merrick. I’m speaking in art bullshit. I’m taking lessons from Willa.”
“We have to go set up the paintings.”
“Give me five minutes.” She tossed the knife in the sink and sorted through her tubes of oil paints. She squirted several shades of red on a disposable foam plate and smeared the colors on the ragged canvas in a seemingly random array with her largest brush. “That’s it!”
“It looks awesome,” he said. “You’re going to leave it like this?”
“It’s just the way I want it. Let’s go.”
“Tell them the paint is fresh so they have to handle with extreme care.”
“I’ll go with them,” Jon said.
“I left the door open.”
Jon gazed at him, his brows knit into a frown. “How did you conceive of something like this?”
“The paint had transcended its two-dimensional plane and was screaming to be released.” Merrick finished with a grin.