Burn
She sighed and rose, stretching her stiff muscles. She stumbled into the kitchen to make herself coffee, thankful that she still had an old canister in the cabinet. She would have to restock her apartment. All of the perishables had been thrown out when she’d moved and only a few items remained. One of them being the coffee. She needed to bypass a mug and go straight for an IV infusion of caffeine.
Holding the steaming cup in her hand, she went back into the living room and opened her blinds to let the early morning light in. Outside, the streets were quiet, only just now starting to come alive with the traffic of the day.
She’d always loved her apartment. The rent for the brownstone was costing her a mint, though, and the realization hit her that she would have to move somewhere cheaper. There had been no unexpected windfall. No customer who loved her work and would buy whatever she brought in.
She needed to make a trip to the art gallery and speak to Mr. Downing. Make it clear that if she were to continue displaying her work there that he couldn’t sell it to Ash. He probably wouldn’t allow her to bring in anything else since she was refusing what had to be his best customer. How could she trust that Ash wouldn’t simply buy it under a different name, one she’d never be able to trace back to him?
Yes, she would have to move, reorder her priorities and think about her options. She needed to create more jewelry and put it up for sale on her site. The site had languished since she’d moved in with Ash, all her focus going into her art. But she needed the money from the sale of her jewelry. When she produced regularly, she sold regularly. Her art would have to take a temporary backseat until she built up enough reserves to give her time to think about a new direction in her artwork.
Mr. Downing had said she lacked vision and focus. That she was too scattered and all over the board. Evidently he was right. But what would her new focus be? If people didn’t like the cheerful, colorful works she created then she had to rethink her vision.
It shouldn’t be too hard to come up with more of the depressing, gloomy paintings that she’d done this morning. She wouldn’t get over Ash in a day, a week or even a month. She loved him. She’d fallen hard and fast without a safety net. The old adage about playing with fire came to mind. She’d definitely played, throwing caution to the wind, and as a result she’d been burnt.
Shaking her head, she finished off her coffee and set the mug on the coffee table. She needed to get back to work, perhaps draw a companion piece for the Rain in Manhattan painting. She could then take both to Mr. Downing and see if he thought they’d sell better than her previous offerings. If not? Plan B. Whatever that was.
She eyed her cell phone, which she’d put on silent, debated whether she should check for calls or messages. Then she sighed. No one would be calling her. Except maybe Ash, and she didn’t want to think about him right now. Resisting the temptation to look at her messages—if there were any—she went back to work, driven to complete another piece.
Her paintings usually took days. She tweaked endlessly, frowning over every little detail. But today she put paint to canvas and didn’t stop until it was done. So what if it was imperfect? It wasn’t like all that attention to detail had gotten her very far before.
She shook her head. God, she sounded like a whiny, feeling-sorry-for-herself nitwit. This wasn’t her and she wasn’t going to let it be her. She wasn’t one to give up. She’d never given up her dream. Her mother had made her swear that she wouldn’t. No way in hell she was going to let herself or her mother down.
For hours she worked steadily, the sun rising higher and more sunlight shining through her window. At one point she closed her blinds because she felt too exposed to the passersby on the sidewalk. She’d noticed a couple of guys walking back and forth on the street outside, seeming like they were trying to get a glimpse of her painting. Painting was private. Even moreso now that she was spilling her heart and her devastation onto the canvas.
She’d just put the last touches on the painting when a knock sounded at her door. She froze, dismay coursing through her veins. Was Ash here? He’d been blunt about the fact that he’d give her last night but that he wasn’t giving up on her or them. He’d wanted her to think about it but she’d shoved the whole issue solidly from her mind and immersed herself in work.
She rose, hands shaking. She could ignore the door, but she wasn’t a coward. And if Ash had come all this way, the least she could do was tell him that she needed more time. Space.
Her heart beating a mile a minute, she wiped her hands and went to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it. Blinking in surprise, she took in the fact that it was not Ash at her door. Was it disappointment she felt? She shook that idea off and stared wordlessly at Mia and Bethany who wore determined expressions on their faces.
“You look awful,” Mia said bluntly. “Have you slept at all?”
“What are you doing here?” Josie asked faintly.
“To answer what will likely be your next question, no, Ash didn’t send us,” Mia said firmly. “To answer your first question, we’re here because we’re dragging you to lunch with us and don’t even think about telling us no.”
Josie’s mouth fell open. Bethany laughed.
“You may as well give in gracefully, Josie,” Bethany said, laughter still in her voice. “Mia is very determined and she’s kind of scary when she sets her mind to something. I’m sure Gabe will attest to that fact.”
Mia elbowed Bethany and scowled. Despite herself, Josie smiled, relief settling over her shoulders.
“Can you give me just a minute to clean up? I’ve, uh, been working,” she finished lamely.
“Sure,” Mia chirped.
“Come in,” Josie said hastily. “Have a seat. It’s kind of a mess. I haven’t unpacked or anything and as I said, I’ve been working.”
“Is this your new stuff?” Bethany asked softly when they entered the living room.
Mia and Bethany were staring at the two paintings she’d just finished. Josie rubbed her hands down her pants legs and nodded.
“They’re really good,” Mia said. “So much emotion in them.” She turned sympathetic eyes toward Josie. “And it’s obvious you’re very upset.”
Josie didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I’ll, uh, just be a minute, okay?”
Mia and Bethany nodded and Josie hurried into her bathroom to make herself more presentable. When she got a look at herself in the mirror she winced. No wonder they’d told her she looked awful. She did.
She splashed water on her face and hastily applied foundation and powder. She brushed her lashes with light mascara and then swiped on lip gloss. She wouldn’t win any beauty pageants but at least she didn’t look quite so washed-out and hollow. No amount of makeup in the world was going to fix the dark shadows under her eyes.
The two guys Josie had noticed earlier caught her attention once more and she frowned. No doubt, they were Ash’s men. Watching her. Even though he’d sworn to give her at least last night. She shook her head. Trust Ash to do things his own way. Just as he’d always done. In the back of her mind she supposed it was good that he was still protecting her, but her trust in him had been shattered. Now what should seem like protection was just one more sign of how controlling Ash was.
“We would have invited Brittany too but we worried it might be a little awkward since she’s Ash’s sister,” Mia said in a low voice once they were inside the car.
Josie winced. Okay, obviously they did know about her breakup with Ash and they weren’t just inviting her to lunch as if everything was normal.
Bethany slid her hand over Josie’s and squeezed. “Don’t look like that, Josie. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
Tears burned her eyelids and she battled fiercely to keep from breaking down. “I’m not sure anything will ever be okay again.”
“It will,” Mia said fiercely. “You can tell us all about it at lunch. Then we’ll figure out how to kick Ash’s ass.”
Bethany laughed and Josie just looked at her in bewilderment.
“But Ash is your friend,” Josie said. “Aren’t you mad at me for breaking up with him?”
“You’re our friend,” Mia said. “Ash isn’t our only connection to you, Josie. And women have to close ranks and stick together! I’m sure whatever the problem is that it’s Ash’s fault.”
“Absolutely,” Bethany said loyally. “Gabe and Jace messed up plenty of times so it’s certainly par for the course that Ash would too. He is a man after all.”
Josie laughed even as tears welled in her eyes.” Oh God, I love you guys.”
“We love you too,” Mia said. “Now let’s get something yummy and fattening to eat and bitch about men.”
Ten minutes later, they were seated at a small pub not far from Josie’s apartment. They placed their orders and then Mia all but pounced on Josie.
“Okay, give us the dirt. All Gabe and Jace have said was that you broke up with Ash and moved out and that Ash got shitfaced drunk last night.”
Josie winced and put her face in her hands. “Oh God. I don’t know what to do. On one hand I’m pissed and hurt and a whole host of things. And on the other, I wonder if I’ve overreacted.”
Josie sighed and then recounted the entire story from beginning to end, leaving nothing out. Not the fact that Ash had her followed, him buying her mother’s jewelry and him insisting on her moving in with him after what happened with Michael, and then her discovery that he was the one who bought all her paintings.
“Wow,” Mia said, sitting back in her seat. “I would say I was surprised but that so sounds like something Ash would do.”
“Gabe and Jace too,” Bethany pointed out. “They’re very determined when they want something.”
“True,” Mia admitted. “They’re persistent if nothing else.”
Bethany nodded her agreement.
“Did I overreact?” Josie asked. “Part of me says yes while the other part of me is hurt. I mean I’m pissed too, but more than that I’m devastated.”
“You didn’t overreact, Josie,” Bethany said.
Mia sat forward again, her gaze earnest as she stared at Josie. “I understand why you’re upset. But listen to me, Josie, and I don’t say this to hurt you. I’m saying it to make a point. Ash could have any woman he wanted. There are literally thousands of women who’d line up to have a chance with him. But he wants you.”
Bethany nodded rapidly.
“I absolutely get what you’re saying about taking away your independence and how what he did negated a lot of what you’d worked very hard to achieve. But here’s the thing. Men are thick. Thick as a brick! Ash wanted to help you. Men like Ash only know one way. Their way. But, Josie, he was so proud of you. He bragged to Jace and Gabe and even to me and Bethany about how talented you are. I don’t think he ever in a million years meant to hurt you the way he has. He saw a way to help you, to provide for you and to give you a sense of accomplishment. He may not have done it in the best way, but his intentions were good. I absolutely believe that. Ash is just so intense. But he has a huge heart, evidenced by the fact that he helped his sister who was a bitch to him for years. And despite the fact that his family are huge assholes, he still can’t quite turn his back on them.”
“I had a lot of issues with the fact that Jace wanted me,” Bethany said quietly. “It baffled me that he turned the city over looking for me after that first night and that he went to such lengths to help me, to provide for me. He, like Ash, could have any woman he wanted. But he wanted me. Just like Ash wants you. We can sit here and analyze it and try to understand it, but at the end of the day, they want who they want and that happens to be us. And Jace made plenty of mistakes along the way, but we worked past those issues and I’m so glad we did because he makes me so happy. I’d never have this with another man. I wouldn’t want to.”
“So you think I’m making too big of a deal out of this,” Josie said ruefully.
Mia shook her head. “No, honey, I don’t. I think it’s obviously important to you and I absolutely think Ash should know that and recognize what he did was wrong. But at the same time, is it something you can’t forgive him for? Because really, what did he do that was so bad? His heart was in the right place even if he went about it all wrong.”
And there it was. In a nutshell. Was it really so unforgivable? Sure, she had a right to be angry, but moving out? Breaking up? That was so . . . permanent.