Clear and Bright: Chapter Eleven: Letting Go

                                              
                                   
"Your guests have arrived, Claire."

"Thank you, Michel." I take a deep breath and turn to Jaimin, "I'm doing the right thing, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are."

I nod and take his hand, "Come with me, they want to meet you."

They're on their feet before we even get to the table, and I'm pulled instantly into their loving embraces. "It's so good to see you, Claire. Your call was such a lovely surprise." Nadine's parents greet me this way every time they see me.

"It's good to see you, too." I feel another pang of guilt, knowing how unhappy my decision will make them. "Mr. and Mrs. Bouchard, this is Jaimin Guillory."

Mrs. Bouchard wastes no time on subtlety. "So, we finally meet the infamous pompous chef! I hope you no longer make Claire beg for her food?"

"That's rude, dear. Jaimin, it's a pleasure to meet you. Forgive my wife, you've met my daughter... now you see where she gets her manners. The women in my life are an endless test of a man's patience."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Jaimin laughs and shakes his hand, giving Nadine's mother his most charming smile. She's toast.

"Oh my... " is what he's reduced her to.

"Close your mouth, dear."

I laugh and whisper to her, "Happens to me all of the time. Evil, isn't he?"

"Mmmm" is her only response.

Jaimin gives me a wink and pulls out my chair, fully and shamelessly aware of my sudden need for it. He chuckles and leans down to me. "Never gets old."

"You're wicked," I whisper back.

"So, will you be joining us?" Nadine's mother asks hopefully.

"I think I'll let you catch up for a bit, and I have to see to it that Claire is properly indulged. I can best do that from the kitchen." He gives her another smile and her face flushes.

"Oh, I doubt that."

Now she's turned me a thousand shades of red. He laughs and excuses himself, and I'm left to face my task. I don't even know how to begin. Their faces begin to grow serious now, they know something's wrong. They know I'm unhappy. They care about me, they always said I was like a daughter to them. They've done a lot for me, I'll always be grateful to them for that. This hardly seems the way to show it. This is going to be even harder than I thought.

Mr. Bouchard reaches over and takes my hand. "So, tell us, honey, what's she done?"

I don't know how to answer him. I don't want to bad mouth her to her parents. I don't want to go through the details of yesterday, and what led me to my decision. "I don't know what to say... I just don't feel safe anymore. I have to protect myself. I can't do that and continue to work with her."

"You're leaving? What did she do? We knew it was something for you to need to speak to us. She won't get away with it, whatever it is. We may let her run the gallery, but she still has to answer for herself. If she's done something to make you feel unsafe... something to make you want to leave... then it must have been something terrible... that's unacceptable. Tell us, I'll set her straight. I won't let her do that to you."

"There's really nothing you can do. Some things happened... it was personal... I wouldn't have let it affect our professional relationship... but then she did something else... she doesn't see the wrong... she's willing to exploit me, my art... I never thought she'd do that. She's damaged everything. The trust is broken. It can't be fixed... I just can't... "

"Exploit you? We'd never allow her to do that, Claire, not to anyone, but you? I'll throw her out on her ass. She may be our daughter, but we care about you as if you were, you know that. We've always respected your wishes, the way you needed things to be, I thought she did too. If that has changed, she'll be the one to leave. Let me fix this for you."

I'm not surprised by his words. It's not the first time he's taken my side against her. Nadine and I weren't always friends. I knew her parents long before I knew her. We didn't always like each other. That took time. They've always taken my side. That they would do it now would only make things worse. That they would choose me...

My pause has given the waiter an opportunity to come to our table. I think he's been waiting. I can't seem to remember his name. They give him their order, and I tell him it doesn't matter, anything is fine. He looks at me oddly, but leaves. I can't think about that right now, Jaimin will choose something for me. I hear my phone, and I know it's him.

J: Anything? Are you okay?

I quickly type my reply.
C: Yes, anything. I will be... this is just hard.

J: I'm here if you need me. Always.

C: I know. Thank you.

I look up and they're watching me. "I'm sorry..."

Nadine's mother speaks this time, "Don't be. Talk to us, honey. Tell us what she did."

I can't just walk away without giving them some understanding of why I have to. They know some things, some details about my life, and they know about my parents. "I had a dream... about the day I left my parents house... her goodbye to me... I couldn't get the image out of my mind... the door... my tiny hand against it. I needed to see it. Once I saw it, I knew I could let it go. I painted it...

I didn't need to keep it. I'd given myself what I needed. I asked Jaimin to take it away, destroy it... Nadine was there. She tried to take it. She said it was valuable. She said she could sell it... He took it away from her, but  that doesn't change the fact that she tried. She knew what it was, just like I know you do...  She didn't care...  My feelings meant nothing to her. That hurt, and on top of everything else...

I know that has nothing to do with my position at the gallery, but I can't break myself into pieces that way. I have to be whole. I'm not willing to separate it. I can't make that sacrifice for her, or for you. I'm sorry... you've done so much for me... I don't mean to sound ungrateful... "

My voice trails off. I'm feeling overwhelmed. I can't look them in the eyes. Am I being selfish? Am I acting like a spoiled child? Jaimin understands, he agrees with me completely, but he sees me differently than anyone else. He puts me first. I don't doubt that he would tell me if he thought I was wrong or being a brat, but I know he probably gives me a lot of leniency in that, especially now. I put my head in my hands, I need a minute to collect myself, I don't want to cry.

Our lunch arrives, and the waiter who's name I still can't remember looks worried, like he's done something wrong by bringing it. I look up to attempt to give him a smile and I feel Jaimin's hand on my hair. I didn't realize he was there.

He drops down beside me and speaks quietly, "I'm sorry. I glanced out to check on you and saw your face in your hands. I don't like to see you upset, is there anything I can do?"

My thoughts are spoken for me. "I think what you can do is join us. You're clearly someone very special to her, and my daughter did something unforgivable that you were witness to. I would like you to know how unhappy her father and I are about that, and how much Claire means to us. If she has no objection, and you have the time, I would like you be a part of the rest of our conversation."

He needs only to look at me to know my answer, although he shouldn't have had to. He sits down next to me, and I am instantly calmed.

Mrs. Bouchard takes us back to the subject at hand. "On top of everything else... that's what you said. Did she do something, Claire? Something to you?"

"She tried to put me on the outside."

"Of what, honey?"

"Me."

Her eyes grow sad. I think she understands.

"She's always been jealous of you. Do you know that? Certainly you must?" When I don't answer, she continues, "It started with your relationship with us, our affection for you. It spread, like a vine, wild and out of control. When she found it impossible not to like you, and you became friends, it only grew. It always amazed me that you didn't seem bothered by it, you couldn't have not seen it. She was jealous of everything. She was jealous of your beauty, but then, I suspect most are. You've lived with that face all of your life, and people's reaction to it, perhaps you're just used to it. She was jealous that everyone liked you, wanted to be near you. It only made her want to be closer to you, be closer than they could be. You let her. Maybe you didn't see it clearly, see it for all it was... " She looks to Jaimin now, "Forgive me if what I'm about to say makes you uncomfortable, but I suspect it has bearing here. She was jealous of men's affection for you, the intensity of it. She knew it made you uneasy, that made her happy, they wouldn't get closer to you than she was... but at the same time, she was jealous that she couldn't affect them the same way. You didn't want it, you didn't have to try, yet it was constant. She made a fool of herself trying, again and again, and couldn't attain it. She felt threatened by Alex, that's why she interfered. I remember how upset you were. I remember what you said... that she tried to put you on the outside, just like you said a moment ago. I don't know what happened between you, but I think she must feel threatened by Jaimin. Your shared passion for art was what threatened her with Alex, that was something she couldn't control, something he shared with you that she never would. Again, Jaimin, forgive me... I promise you I'm getting there."

He's tense beside me, his jaw clenched. I reach over to place my hand on his, and he takes it possessively. Yours, I will him to hear. He looks at me with an intense knowing in his eyes, and I believe he has. It sends a shiver through me, and he gives my hand a gentle squeeze.

I turn my gaze back to her, and she's watching us intently. She smiles at me and continues, "There's something rare between you, it's impossible not to see. Certainly Nadine saw it. I know that she cares about you, Claire, but I imagine it was finally too much. I know my daughter... I shudder to think of what she may have done. I'm not asking you... that's between the two of you, or maybe the three of you... what you've told us is more than enough. She's always needed you more than you needed her, but you've never really needed anyone. She was jealous of that, too, jealous of your strength, your clear head. She's always been in the clouds... she wanted to pull you up with her, but you didn't let her, your feet stayed firmly planted on the ground. I think perhaps that's changed now... that you've felt the air beneath them... and the fact that she wasn't the one to put it there...

I don't know what to say... she should be happy for you. On some level I'm sure she is, but since we're here, I know that's not the case. I'm sorry for whatever she tried to take from you... I have no doubts that's what she did. It breaks my heart. For both of you."

Mr. Bouchard makes another plea, "There isn't just one choice, Claire. It doesn't have to be you."

"I know you mean that, but it does."

He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he looks at me I see a father's love. It doesn't matter that I'm not his daughter, it's never mattered. "I've always wanted the best for you. I'm more proud of you than you'll ever know for fighting for it for yourself. Darkness will settle without you, but I'll take comfort in knowing the light is still bright around you, and that you kept yourself whole."

There it is. The tears fall. There's no stopping them, it's pointless to try. I knew they would come. I knew who would bring them. Jaimin reaches up with his free hand to wipe them away, and I wish we hadn't have chosen here to do this. "I'm sorry," I whisper to him.

He cups my chin in his hand, his voice so sweet it turns the rest of me as liquid as my tears. "No one's watching you, sweetheart, no one but me. Don't ever be sorry for being loved, don't ever apologize for letting it wrap it's arms around you, no matter where you are."

"Are you breaking rules for me again?"

He gives my hand a gentle squeeze, "I don't have rules about crying here, Claire. That wouldn't be fair. Anything I put on a plate would bring a person to tears."

Thank you.

"Tell me, Mr. Arrogant, does it make you dizzy to flip so quickly?"

"No, beautiful. The only thing that makes me dizzy is you."

My tears have turned to laughter, and I roll my eyes at him. He rewards me with a wink, and as usual, I am reduced to mush. Every. Time. It's so unfair...

I look helplessly at the Bouchards, and they're smiling at me. I can feel the blush on my cheeks. I'm sure they've never seen it before, certainly not on serious, sensible Claire. I think it's time to get back there for a moment.

"Your support means a lot to me. Thank you. I'm sorry I had to make this decision, I know you're not happy. I wish things hadn't taken this turn, but I can't change what's been done. I can't make it not matter to me."

"We would never ask you to do that."

"I want to be fair to you, I won't just walk out, but Nadine isn't going to be reasonable about this. She doesn't know yet, I wanted to speak with both of you first. How do you want me to proceed?"

Jaimin interjects now, "No, she won't be reasonable. You don't owe her anything. Clear out your office, take your paintings, and walk away. I insist on it."

"You insist?"

"Yes, Claire. I do."

I don't want to argue with him. I'm not really even upset, although I probably should be. I know why he feels that way. "That would be very unprofessional, don't you think?"

"I can't care about that. I care about you. It's what's best for you. I won't let you go back."

Let me?

I raise a brow at him, but his expression is completely unapologetic. Does he want me to argue with him? I know the answer to that, of course he doesn't. Well, too bad. "I don't like that, Jaimin."

"You'll get over it."

What? No... I won't do this. Not here. Not in front of them. He knows it, too. I'd like to slap that smirk right off of his face...

"Claire," Mr. Bouchard begins, looking amused by our exchange, "I have to agree with Jaimin. As soon as she knows you're leaving, she'll make your time there unbearable. It's unfortunate, but it will happen. I don't want you to be subjected to that. If your decision has been made, then I don't think you should delay your exit. In fact, I think we should go there now."

"Oh. Okay. I wasn't prepared to do that now, but if it's what you want... "

"You sound hurt. I didn't mean it that way, honey. I think it's the best decision for you. She's already hurt you. No one here wants that to happen again." He exchanges a look with Jaimin, and it's clear that they have a mutual understanding. They may have a different approach, but the intent is the same. Me first.

"Okay. Jaimin, do you think you might have a box or two around here somewhere?"

"Ready and waiting in my truck."

"Of course. How very control freak of you."

"You get plenty spoiled, sweetheart."

"As you see fit."

"Yes."

"Are you coming?"

"Ridiculous question."

"At least I'm consistent," I say with a sigh.

He smiles at me and stands. "Shall we?"

"We haven't received the check yet," Mr. Bouchard protests.

"There isn't one," Jaimin replies with a shake of his head.

"Don't argue with him," I say to Mr. Bouchard, "He'll get offended and his head might spin around or something."

"You've both known her a long time... has she always had such a smart mouth?"

Mrs. Bouchard laughs, "No, I think you bring that out in her. And thank you for lunch. Everything was wonderful. I must say, you've named it appropriately."

"Please don't encourage him," I plead, "He's already impossible."

"Perhaps, dear, but I think you like it just as much as he likes your smart mouth."

"She does," he answers with a cocky grin, and leads us out.



                                                  ~



"Well, well, what do we have here? Really, Claire? Big, bad Nadine made you cry, so you ran and told my parents? God, you really are a child. A spoiled rotten, pathetic little child. Shouldn't you be at a funeral? Yours are dead, remember?"

"Nadine!" they scream at her in unison.

I grab Jaimin's arm as he moves away from me, but he gently pulls it free. He was only moving to step in front of me. It makes me sad that I didn't understand. Of course he only wants to protect me, even from her words. I inch forward and rest my forehead against his back in a silent apology, before addressing her.

"Hello, Nadine. I do, in fact, remember, however, I didn't feel that my presence was necessary or wanted there. That being said, this isn't a social visit, I'd appreciate it if we could dismiss with the childishness. I'm here to discuss business."

"Not necessary? Of course you feel that way, being the selfish little bitch that you are. You're right about one thing, however... I'm sure you weren't wanted there. They never wanted you, did they?"

Her father is outraged. "You will not speak to her that way. I won't have it. You get control of yourself this instant!"

"Surprise, surprise, my father takes your side. Since the day he met you, you were the daughter he wished he had. Of course he would choose you, they all do. Isn't that right, Jaimin?"

"No one here is interested in your games, Nadine. I strongly suggest that you dig deep and find some level of humanity and professionalism."

"Are you sure? I think you may be wrong. Claire looks interested, and a bit confused. You mean you haven't told her?"

He looks at me, but I can't read his expression. He turns back to her, visibly irritated with something I don't understand. "There's nothing to tell her."

I am confused, but I'll ask him later. My stomach flip flops at the possibilities of that conversation, but I can't let that interfere with what I came here to do. I want to get this over with. "Nadine, I'm leaving, effective today. I've spoken with your parents, and everyone feels that an immediate exit would be best. I think we should direct our focus to any questions you may have about what I'll be leaving you with. I'm confident that nothing has been left unattended to, but you've never involved yourself  in my responsibilities, so perhaps we should go over a few things before I go."

"Don't try to make me look bad, Claire, like I don't know this business. I didn't involve myself because I trusted you."

"I know that. I wasn't implying otherwise."

"Trust is a funny thing, isn't it? How easily it's broken. How hard it is to build... unless you're Jaimin, of course. He didn't have to do anything but smile at you and you gave him everything. I know he's absurdly good looking, but Jesus, Claire, wake up. He's everything you don't like in a man, yet here you are, ready to turn your back on your best friend and your job because he probably told you to. Has life without a daddy finally caught up to you? Do you suddenly feel some need to be controlled and told what to do? You didn't let Alex do it, but him... oh, he's willing, but it's a little sick if you ask me, from both sides. He's taking advantage of you, and the misguided trust he knows you have in him. He's the pompous ass that he is, he can't help himself, but you could if you opened your eyes. Look at yourself. See more than the pretty face that looks back at you, for once. There's something in there. It's a train wreck, but it's you. You're not as perfect as everyone thinks you are, far from it. Take my advice, before he destroys what's left of you, no matter how fucked up it is. Seek some help for your daddy issues. And your mommy issues, for that matter. Oh... and I was thinking... is your if you get too close to me, I run away issue about your mother stuffing you in a chest as a child? I think maybe it is. It's called claustrophobia, but most apply it to close spaces, not people. Of course, you're not most. You're Claire. Claire is special. That is your biggest issue. Mention that to the therapist while you're on the couch."

Mrs. Bouchard is crying, "Stop this! Stop right now! I can't believe the things I'm hearing. How could you say such things to her? Are you really so jealous of her happiness, and Jaimin for being a part of it, that you'd try to turn it into something sick? That you'd want to hurt her so much? She's been nothing but good to you, a better friend than you ever deserved! How could you treat her this way? How could you say such horrible, dreadful things?"

I hear Jaimin take a deep breath next to me, and I know he's struggling to stay calm. His voice is low, "Go to your office and start gathering your things."

"Okay," I say quietly, and turn to go, because he's right. I knew she'd be unreasonable, but I wasn't quite expecting this. He was. There's no point in trying any more.

"Yes, sir, whatever you say, sir," Nadine spats. "Tell me, Claire, how's that leash working out? Is it hard to breathe when you wear it? Does he tug hard? Does it suffocate you?"

Jaimin's voice is a warning, "You should be careful how far you go, Nadine."

I spin around to face her, but when I see her parents, these wonderful people that have been so good to me, I just can't bring myself to say the words she deserves. I won't do it. I can't disrespect them that way. I know it's the only reason he's maintaining his calm. Her expression is taunting, but I won't let her push me to it. I hold my head high and say simply, "I'm a better person than you are", and walk to my office.

"You bitch! You're not better than me! You're cold and heartless and the most self-centered person I've ever known! You don't care about anyone but yourself. You cry only for yourself. You've never given a damn about anyone else's feelings. Your mother was right, you drained the life out of Alex. You killed him! You're not better! You're a devil with an angel's face. You fool everyone, just long enough to make them love you, and then you rip their hearts out. You didn't fool your mother, though, did you? No, she knew how evil you were before you were even born. I wish she'd have done it. I wish your father hadn't stopped her. You wouldn't be able to hurt anyone. You wouldn't be able to take from anyone. Alex would still be alive."

Her words bring me back. "Why do you keep bringing him up?"

"That's the only thing you want to respond to? That's interesting, Claire. Don't you find it interesting, Jaimin?"

He's glaring at her, but doesn't respond. It's starting to become clear to me. "Don't think I don't know that you tried to throw yourself at him. He told me. He told me every time. He didn't keep secrets from me. And the others... they told me, too. They all told me. You always wanted what I had. You've always tried to take from me. I never confronted you about it, because I wasn't threatened by you. I had nothing to worry about. None of them wanted you. None of them would have left me for you. I felt sorry for you, to be honest, the way they laughed at you.

You tried to interfere with Alex. You said you were trying to help... but I think I've finally figured it out. You wanted him. Really wanted him. You were just trying to get close to him. You had other intentions. He denied you over and over again, so you thought you'd try a different approach. You tried to establish a friendship with him, make him believe you could help him keep me... He's the only one you ever did that with. Until now. Is that what this is about, Nadine?"

"I hate you. I hate how highly you think of yourself. I hate how much you make people want you. I hate how selfish you are. I saw him first. I wanted him first. Then you came along and ruined everything. I didn't stand a chance once he saw you."

Saw him first? She didn't meet Alex until... oh.

I look at Jaimin now. He's looking at her with disgust.

Oh please...

Not her...

Many women...

Just sex...

Used for his needs...

She met him several times before I did...

She wanted him...

She would have let him use her... I have no doubts about that...

Please no...

"Jaimin?" my voice is a whisper, "Have you... "

I can't bring myself to finish the question. He knows what I'm asking. I close my eyes and wait for the answer I'm terrified to hear.

He's in front of me now. "Look at me."

Please just say it...

"Claire, look at me."

I know he won't lie to me, but the truth could put me on the floor. Can I hear it? Maybe I shouldn't have asked him. Do I really want to know? Yes. I do. I have to know. Oh, please let him say no.


I open my eyes and and he tilts my chin up so I look at him, and I know the answer before he speaks it. "No. Not that she didn't try, but I swear to you, I never even considered it."

Thank you.

"When? When did she try?"

"Before I met you."

"Where?"

"Here. The first time I came in, looking for paintings of you. I told you I searched...  There wasn't a gallery I didn't look in. I didn't find any, of course, but I bought my first painting of yours that day. She was flirting shamelessly with me, it was disgusting. I wasn't interested. I thought it was appallingly unprofessional. I wasn't polite. I thought it would be enough, but she was unperturbed. I came back, hoping I'd be greeted by someone else, but it was always her. Always the same. She got bolder, she made many propositions, but I refused them all. It made me sick to walk through those doors, but I was enthralled by your work, so I always came back... God, Claire, where were you?"

So much wasted time...


Nadine's voice breaks into my thoughts, "You'll regret it, you know. You'll see. Claire's sweet. You don't want sweet. You'll be bored. She won't be able to please you. I would have. She's not very experienced. She's a master tease, but that's all. She's only ever been with one man, and that was Alex. She never let any of the others have it. The poor schmucks all waited, they thought she was worth it, they waited and waited, but she never gave it up. She teased and teased, and played her little girl games until one day it got her into trouble. Someone got tired of her games. If she wasn't going to give it to him, he was going to take it. He was tired of waiting. Lucky for her, someone else was still willing. Someone she'd left... he never gave up. He stalked her, still does, actually. You'll meet him soon enough. He was here this morning. He hadn't been around lately... he's less crazy when he knows she's alone. I told him she wasn't alone anymore. That's all he needed to hear. He's insane. She did a real number on him. He was insane that night. He'd been watching them. He was waiting to see him leave her apartment. It started to get late... he didn't like that. He shouldn't have still been in there with her. He went to the door. He heard a struggle. He heard her crying. She was in trouble. She teased one too many times. He knew... she'd done it to him. He wouldn't have taken it from her, he wanted her to give it to him, but someone else... he'd take it. He wouldn't let that happen. He broke the door down just in time, a few more seconds and it would have been too late. He had her pinned on the floor... her clothes were ripped... a few more seconds... he saved her ass. You should have seen what he did to him. He almost killed him. He got away with it, his brother's a detective, pulled some strings. He thought she'd go back to him. She was grateful, but not that much. Selfish.

Does she tease you, Jaimin? I bet she does... she should have learned her lesson, but she's a brat. She can't help herself. No, she won't make you happy. Her sweet little pillow games with Alex couldn't have prepared her for you. You have needs she won't be willing or able to satisfy. Your dream girl will disappoint you. I actually feel a little sorry for you. You could have had a woman, you chose a little girl. I don't judge you, you're all helpless against her. It's not your fault. I won't punish you for it, either. Give me a call when you get tired of sweet."

I can't believe what she just did. I am in complete shock. Jaimin wraps his arms around me, and I know he's only thinking about one thing at this moment. Someone tried to hurt me. He can't see or hear past that. I've seen many emotions cross his face today. Concern. Adoration. Confidence. Anger. Jealousy. Animosity. Disgust. And now... I don't know how to put into words what I see.

Mr. Bouchard clears his throat, and I turn to face him. Jaimin lets go of me as I do, but I lean against him and pull his arm protectively across my body, his hand resting on my shoulder.

He speaks quietly, "I am truly at a loss. I'm sorry that I let so many things be said. Nadine's behavior, her words, they're unforgivable. I'm mortified. I'm embarrassed. I'm ashamed. I don't know what to say to you, Claire. Nothing would be enough. Nothing could even begin to be enough... "

"You don't have to say anything. All I ask of you is that you understand. I imagine that now you do. What you've heard here is just a continuation of the last few days... I can't say I understand why, but it doesn't matter. I have only myself to blame. I overlooked many things for a very long time, because I cared... I thought, despite everything, that she did too. I see now that I was very wrong about that. She despises me. I'm baffled as to what would have made it worth it to her all of these years to spend so much time with me, it must have been miserable for her."

Nadine hisses her response, "Sheer and utter hell, to be exact."

"Don't listen to her, Claire," Mrs. Bouchard pleas, "I don't know why she's doing this, but she doesn't mean any of it. You weren't wrong, she loves you. She's not herself, you must see that. When she realizes what she's done, she'll be devastated."

"That's enough. Don't you dare defend her! I won't have it! She has shamed herself, this family, and this business in every possible way. I have never been more disgusted or humiliated!"

"This business?" Nadine asks, incredulous, "Do tell, dad, how exactly have I done that? I run this place, because you and mom didn't want to anymore. I do all of the work while the two of you relax. I make money for you. A little appreciation would be nice!"

"How? You ask me how? Do you think it appropriate to proposition patrons? This is an art gallery, not your personal playground! Gentlemen don't come in here to be propositioned by my whore of a daughter!"

"Ouch, dad, that hurts. Or it might, I suppose, if I gave a damn about what you think of me. Lucky for me, I don't. Now, allow me to clarify a few things for you. He's no gentleman. He's fucked every skirt in Paris. That's the kind of man your precious little Claire thinks is so special. As for me, rumor has it he has a big dick and knows how to use it. You saw the name above the doors, it's not just about his food, the pompous fuck. I wanted the pleasure, being the whore that I am. The fact that it will be wasted on her makes me sick.

As for the rest of our gentlemen patrons... Sure we have some art enthusiasts, but most of the men that come in here have one goal. Claire. All they have to do is see her through the windows, and in they come. The only shame here is the ridiculous amount of money that they're willing to spend just to get to talk to her. Of course, she's all business, she pays them no attention whatsoever. An automatic guarantee that they'll be back to try and buy again. It's smart, I'll give her that. She's not completely worthless."

I've heard enough. I feel sick. Nadine and her parents are arguing, I'm as stunned as they are that she would say such things in front of them, to them. It's too much. For them and for me. I just want to get out of here. I reach up to move Jaimin's arm and he tightens his hold. He knows what upset me.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "Please don't think about any of that."

"I want to go. Would you get the boxes please?"

"Claire... "

"Please, Jaimin." I pull on his arm again and he sighs, but let's go of me and I head to my office for the last time.



                                                          ~




My head is spinning. Nadine did not make today easy. She fought everything. She even tried to keep my paintings, claiming they belonged to the gallery. I wasn't going to take them with me today, I was going to make arrangements to transport them properly and allow her time to fill the space I would leave... but no one trusted her. She would have damaged them all rather than let me take them later. She laughed at this accusation made by her father, which prompted me to inquire of the pieces I knew were already missing. I checked the books when she refused to answer, and discovered she'd sold four of my paintings in the last two days. She said there was no accounting for taste...

Mr. Bouchard insisted I take the rest, and helped Jaimin take them all down and load them carefully into his truck while I went over a few details with Nadine's mother. The Bouchards were coming out of retirement, no longer trusting their daughter to run things properly. They asked me to stay, me over her, reminding me of the way things used to be before Nadine came to work for the gallery. I sadly declined, my decision firm, but I can't say that I wasn't tempted. I think back to the day that changed so many things, and it makes me smile.

"Where are you?"Jaimin asks quietly, "Is it someplace I can come?"

I've been quiet since we left the gallery, quiet as we brought the paintings in and up to my studio, quiet through dinner, lost in thought, my mind a haze. He's been patient, but I know my silence is bothering him, probably creating doubt and unrest in his mind. "Just thinking. I never would have imagined myself leaving there. It made them sad."

"She made them sad."

"I know."

"Something made you smile."

"I was just remembering the day I sold my first painting."

"That's definitely something I'd like to hear about."

"Okay. Do we have any more wine?"

"We're out of your favorite, but there's a few others you've yet to try, or I could run to the restaurant and grab a bottle."

"You'd do that?"

"Of course. I'd do anything for you. Is that what you want?"

"No."

"I think it is."

"But to do that you'd have to leave me. That's not what I want."

"You don't know how happy that makes me."

"Good. Now get me some wine. I want to be spoiled."

"You're adorable. Bossy, but adorable."

"Are you still here?"

"And there's my favorite smart mouth."

"All yours."

I pucker at him and he leans down and kisses me sweetly. "Yes it is. Tell me, why is it I sense trouble coming?"

I shrug innocently and he narrows his eyes at me, before walking to the kitchen. I take the opportunity to go change, wine and storytelling calls for comfort. I opt for my favorite pink shorts and a hoodie and head back. He's sitting on the couch, two glasses of wine in front of him, the bottle beside them.

"Good boy," I say, "You learn fast."

"There you a..." he stops when he sees me.

"What's wrong?"

"Jesus, Claire, what are you wearing?"

"What?" I look down at myself, confused. When I look back up at him, his eyes are hooded.

His tone sends a shiver up my spine, "Come here."

Is he... ? He can't possibly find this sexy?


I do as I'm told and walk over to where he sits, my heart racing in my chest. He pushes the table away with his foot, never taking his eyes off of me. He reaches for my hand and pulls me to stand in front of him.

"You wouldn't be trying to tempt me, would you?"

What? "No."

"No?"

I shake my head and his hands move to my hips. "I think you are," he moves them down my legs slowly... agonizingly slowly, his fingers applying the slightest pressure, like fire across my skin. "You shouldn't do that," moving them back up, wrapping around my thighs now, squeezing gently, his eyes following his trail. "It isn't nice." His hands reach my ass, and his breath hitches.

I try to stand still, but my legs are shaking. I bob forward with every movement of his hands over me, stroking, caressing, pulling me to him with the force of their appreciation. My arrogant bastard is an ass man. Lucky for me, it's one of my best attributes. I watch the rise and fall of his chest, and focus to regulate my own breathing. I'm making very little progress, his hands having no mercy on me, but when he speaks I forget my struggle.

"Turn around," his voice is so deep and low that I think my heart actually stops.

"What?"

"You have something to show me, right? You want me to see, so show me. TURN AROUND."

Definitely an ass man...


"I wasn't... " I start to declare my innocence, but his eyes silence me. Okay. If that's what he wants. I turn slowly, my legs threatening to give. He makes a sound low in his throat and my heart starts beating again. Furiously.

He slides his hands between my slightly parted legs and his fingertips trace up and down the insides of my thighs and my legs start to buckle. I reach out in front of me, but there's nothing to grab onto. I feel his left hand leave my body and I gasp at the loss of contact.

"You won't fall. I won't let you." He extends his hand up to me and I take it in both of mine, trying to steady myself. "But now I have to do with one." He trails his torturous fingers out from between my legs and up and over my ass, his thumb dipping and tracing the curves just beneath the bottom of my shorts. My very little shorts. Maybe subconsciously I did ask for this when I put them on, but really...

I should object. I should be appalled at being made to stand here under his gaze, like some possession on display for his amusement... but I'm not, and I won't. Who am I kidding? It's what he likes, he's turned on, and it's sexy as hell. I don't know where the courage comes from, but I find my voice, "You like what you see back there?"

He groans deeply, and whispers, "Such a smart little mouth you have," gripping me hard, and pulling himself to his feet, spinning me to face him. He gives my ass a rough squeeze. "It and this are MINE."

I can't take anymore. I reach up, fisting my hands in his hair, and pull his mouth to mine. He's not gentle. Not his hands. Not his mouth. He cups both of his hands under me, lifting me to him. My legs wrap around him of their own will, and we crash onto the couch. I lock them tightly, pulling him closer to me. I need pressure, I need him hard against me, to relieve the ache he's built in me. He needs it too, he doesn't resist, and he is definitely hard. His lips leave my mouth and trail hungrily down my neck, his left hand threading through my hair and cupping the back of my my head. He grazes his teeth along my neck, biting gently, causing me to arch my back in newly discovered pleasure. His right hand slides under me, gripping my ass once more, pulling me up to him as he grinds mercilessly against me. Oh God, this doesn't relieve the ache, it only makes it stronger. I want him. I reach down, struggling with the buttons of his shirt. He doesn't pull away, he leans up slightly, making it easier for me. I get through the buttons, and free it from his pants. I try to pull it off, but his hands don't budge from their possessive holds on me. I forget his shirt, leaving it half way down his arms, and move my hands to his chest. His skin is on fire beneath them, his heart beating rapidly. His lips move back to my mouth, claiming his favorite part of me... or maybe that's second now... and I let him take. It doesn't matter... I belong to him. I want him to take everything. I want to give him everything. My hands grip the back of his neck, the muscles there hard and strained. "Please," I whisper breathlessly against his mouth, "Show me who I belong to. Show me I'm yours."

I hear a low, animalistic growl come from him, his whole body shaking with it, and I tremble in response. He tenses. His body goes rigid against me. No.... please...  He starts to pull himself up, and I try with all of my strength to pull him back down to me, but he doesn't budge. Not an inch. He looks down at me, and his eyes are angry. Shit. He's mad at himself, and probably at me.

He sighs deeply and lifts me into a sitting position, and begins fixing his shirt. He's not looking at me. I know what's coming. Please don't say it.


He shakes his head, a disgusted expression on his face. "I'm sorry, Claire."

"Of course you are."

"I had no right... "

"How much more of an invitation do you need? You had every right, Jaimin. I gave it to you."

"No you didn't. I took it from you. You don't understand that. You're too innocent to understand. Too sweet... "

"Ouch."

"Claire... "

"You agree with her? Is that what this is? You think she's right? You think you'll be disappointed, you think I won't please you, so you don't want to waste your time?"

"That's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said."

"Is it? Or is it the most accurate? Maybe you just don't want to admit the truth because you don't want to hurt me. Well, too late. You already hurt me."

"I don't want to hurt you... that's the last thing I would ever do. I'm... "

"Don't! Don't say you're sorry...  Every time you say that to me it's like a punch in the stomach. Just be honest with me. I know I act like a little brat sometimes, but I'm not a child."

"I know that."

"Am I saying it wrong? Is that the problem?"

"Saying what wrong, sweetheart?"

"I want you. I want you to make love to me. I've tried to tell you, I've tried to show you. Maybe my words are just too sweet for you. You said I'm different from all of the other women... I doubt any of them were sweet. What do you need, Jaimin? Do you need me to tell you I want you to fuck me? Is that what turns you on? Don't assume I won't please you without giving me the chance."

"I don't like to hear things like that come out of your pretty mouth. That's not what I want or need. Don't make me angry."

"I'm trying to understand what you do need to hear. Can you help me? I know you shouldn't have to, and I'm sorry... I'm clearly doing it wrong, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do different. This has never happened to me before. I'm used to fighting it off, not begging someone to want me. Am I just not sexy to you?"

Oh crap. He's mad. What did I do?

He grabs my chin roughly, and the fury in his voice matches his eyes, "What did I tell you about trying to make me jealous?"

"I wasn't... "

"I think you were. DON'T."

My voice is barely a whisper, "I swear I wasn't. Please don't be angry with me."

"I am angry, Claire. You think I don't know that men want you? You think I don't see? You think I don't know there were others before me? Why do you insist on giving me reminders? I've had more than enough of those today, I don't need them from you. I DON'T LIKE IT."

"I didn't mean it that way. I wasn't trying to do that. I'm sorry for all of the things that were said today. I know you didn't like that. I didn't either. You told me not to think about it. Can I ask the same of you?"

"You were awfully concerned with Nadine's words a few moments ago."

"That's because I thought maybe you agreed with her. I'd like to know if you do."

"I don't. I told you that's ridiculous."

"Neither do I. Just because I haven't been with... " His eyes grow darker before I can finish my sentence. I'm not trying to make him angrier than he already is. I try a different way, "Please stay calm. I want to say something to you."

"Choose your words carefully, Claire."

I'm not very confident in my ability to do that. My words never fail to piss him off. I eye the forgotten wine on the table. That's what I need. I lean forward to pull the table towards us. It's farther than I thought it was. I think I can reach it if I just stretch a little more...

I hear him take a sharp intake of breath and immediately feel a very sharp slap on my behind. Damn him!
 "Ow!"

"You want to play games... okay, I'll play, but perhaps you should have considered the consequences first. Rules, sweetheart. We play by mine."

"What the hell are you talking about? I just wanted my glass of wine. Why did you hit me?"

"Watch your mouth. If you wanted your wine, you should have asked for it. I would have given it to you, but you know that already. Don't bother trying to play innocent, I'm not buying it. You did that intentionally. You got what you deserved."

"I told you never to do that again."

"You did."

"So why did you?"

"Because I can. Now go put some clothes on. You can have your wine after."

"I have clothes on."

"That's up to interpretation."

"Yours?"

"You're learning, but leave the smart attitude in your bedroom when you come back. Go."

"I'm comfortable, thank you. If my appearance offends you, don't look at me, if you can help yourself."

"You can change, or I can do it for you. I strongly suggest you choose the first option."

"I prefer the second."

"Claire."

"Yes?"

"You don't want to do this."

"You're right, I want you to do it."

"I promise you you won't like it. Don't be foolish. Now, I'm going to give you one more chance to do as you're told. I advise you to take it."

I wonder what that means. I'm not sure I want to know. He shakes his head, and starts to stand and I know I don't. Definitely not.

"Okay!" I jump up from the couch, "If I listen, will you stop being mad at me?"

"I'll consider it. Bring me the shorts when you're finished."

"Why?"

"Because I told you to."

"You're very bossy."

"You're very disobedient."

"I don't think you like me very much anymore."

He rolls his eyes, "That's absurd. I adore you, but you're trying my patience. I don't like that so much."

I pout at him, but his expression doesn't change. Okay. I give up. He wins. Again.

I change into his sweats, the same pair I slept in last night, really having no other options for comfort that won't get me into even more trouble. I guess I need to do some shopping. Maybe some pajamas with cute little kittens all over them. Surely that would be sweet enough. Ugh.

He gives me a cocky grin when I come back. "Good girl. Much better."

"That's up to interpretation."

"Yes, it is. Mine." He holds up my glass of wine, and holds his other hand out to me, "Now, you give me those, then you can have this."

"What are you going to do with them? They're my favorite, please don't damage them."

"I have no intention of damaging them, sweetheart. I forbid you to wear them again, until I give you permission. You have a tendency to disobey me, so I'm going to help you this time. I'm quite fond of your pretty little ass, as you undoubtedly now know,  I'm merely taking a precaution to lessen the chances that I'll have to damage it. You should say thank you."

"I think you take as you see fit a little too seriously."

"That's just because you can't have your way. The sooner you accept the order of things, and that my intentions are to protect you, the easier things will be. Give them to me. I won't ask you again."

Geez. I put them in his hand, and take the wine, sitting down next to him. I just have one question to ask him, "Do you want me to be afraid of you?"

My question surprises him. "Of course not. I would never want that. I just want you to listen to me. You said you trusted me to take care of you... if you meant that, then you should understand that the things I tell you to do are what I think is best for you."

"I did mean it, but I also told you I don't want you to protect me from you. Can't we compromise just a little?"

"No."

"That's not fair. You just said you don't want me to be afraid of you, so what is there to protect me from?"

"Just trust me, please."

"Is it about sex?"

"I believe you're supposed to be telling me a story."

"Are you a freak?"

He laughs, he can't help it. "You're adorable. I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it may incriminate me. I think we should move along."

"Okay, that's a yes. Moving along, as you wish... "

"That is not what I said. Don't put words in my mouth. Story please."

"In a minute. I've heard things... You do have a reputation. Women talk. I'm not saying I believe everything, although you've already confirmed some, but there is one constant. Is it that you think you'll hurt me?"

"I'm not sure what you're asking me, but this is not moving along. I implore you to do so."

"You always tell me I can say anything to you. Are you telling me now that I can't? No wonder I'm always in trouble, you change the rules for your own convenience. You're mean." I pout at him again, for effect, and he runs his hands exasperatedly through his hair.

"I have no doubts that I'm going to regret this, but since you've made a valid point, I won't deny you. Ask me anything you want."

"I already asked, do you think you'll hurt me? You know, because of how big it is." He chokes on his wine, but I think he's okay, so I continue, "If that's true. Should I be afraid? How big is it, anyway?"

His face is priceless. "You did not just ask me that."

"Yes I did. You said I could."

"No, I don't think I did."

"You said anything."

"I am not answering that question."

"Actually, it was three questions."

"Don't be smart."

"Are you going to answer any of them?"

"No."

"Can I see it?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Why not? I just want to see. I promise not to touch, unless you give me permission. You get to have full control. You should like that."

Oh God, his face...  he's completely at a loss. It's killing me. I want to laugh. I'm trying so hard to keep a straight face. I think he wants to be mad, but he's not, he may even be amused.

His jaw twitches slightly, "I think you like to be spanked."

"No I don't."

"You're practically begging for it."

"No I'm not."

"Oh, but you are."

"I think you just like to do it. That's because you're a freak. You already admitted that. Hmmm... okay, I'll let you if you show me."

"You're going to get it... but you'll see nothing."

"That's not the deal."

He laughs, "You don't get to make the deals, beautiful. My rules, remember?"

"Oh, I'm sorry... how rude of me! I know what the problem is. Of course I'll be fair. You can see something, too. I'm guessing a rear view would be to your liking? I'll even let you go first."

"How very sweet of you." He pats his leg and grins wickedly, "Put it right here."

I smile at him and lay myself across his lap and his mouth falls open.

"Claire... "

"I know."

"There's no deal."

"I know."

"You want me to?"

"You want to."

"Is that what you think?"

"There's a spark in your eyes. If it makes you that happy, then I'll let you. Like I told you, don't assume I can't or won't please you without giving me the chance."

His eyes narrow slightly and he immediately places his hand on my ass, cupping, squeezing, watching his own manipulations. He's not looking at me, but I'm watching him. I want to see. I feel him pull his sweats taut against my curves, and I see his mouth open slightly, hear his breath catch. His arousal is pure, it fascinates me. Such a simple thing. We all have our weaknesses. Everything about him is mine, it's nice to have one more thing on my side. Adorable and an ass he can't resist, I'll take that. He gently rubs the very place he last struck, slow, careful circles, and looks over to find me watching him. He's not phased by my fascinated gaze, comfortable with himself. It's impossibly sexy. He smiles at me, and the flush I wear like a second skin.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No."

"Sting?"

Crap. I know it's about to. "No."

His only response is a playful raise of his brows and a sly smile. My heart is beating fast. I don't like what he's about to do, but I like seeing him like this. His hand stills and I know it's coming. I brace myself and focus to keep my eyes on his face. I want to see what it does to him, what I'm able to give him. His hand rears up and I suck in my breath in anticipation.

He erupts into a fit of laughter.

"You're so adorable. Come here, you little brat." He pulls me up and into his arms, nuzzling his face in my hair.

What the hell? "What just happened?"

He's laughing again. "You got felt up. Thank you for the opportunity, I'm honored."

"And?"

"You have a great ass."

"Thank you. And?"

"I chose to spare it."

"Why? You were aroused. I saw it. Why stop? I was offering it to you, to make you happy."

"I was aroused by you."

"My offer."

"No... you. You're so completely different, Claire. You are sweet, in a mischievous way sometimes, but there's an innocence about you that confounds me."

"I'm not sexy," I frown.

He shakes his head, "You're wrong. You don't understand. You couldn't be more sexy. Your sweetness, your innocence, your unassuming beauty, your playfulness, your smart mouth... everything. You.

I don't want you to do anything differently. You couldn't be more irresistible just the way you are. I don't want you to say things that aren't you because you think it's what I want to hear. Don't ever do that, Claire. That's not what I want. I don't like it.

You know that I want you, I know you do, but you tell yourself that I don't. I want you to stop doing that. I went too far tonight, that's my fault. I lost control, I didn't put you first. I'm not happy about that. I told you I was sorry because I was, for losing focus of what's most important. You. I didn't say it to hurt you. I didn't stop because I didn't want you. I wasn't rejecting you, I know that's how you felt, but you're wrong. I don't want you to feel that way. Ever.

I told you I'd make mistakes. I make them with you every day. I'm sorry for that. I swear I'm trying. I wish I was doing better. You deserve better. You deserve everything. The last few days have been hell for you. You don't want to focus on it, I see that. I try to understand what you need, I want to give it to you, but only if it's what's right for you. Please try to see that. I can't always give you your way, no matter how much you want me to. I'll spoil you in every way I can, as long as it doesn't hurt you... "

I try to interject, to plead my case. "But... "

He puts his finger to my mouth. "I know you think you're ready. I know what that means to you, and I am  honored that you feel so deeply for me to be willing to take that step. I know you want me to make love to you, and I want to more than you could possibly understand, but I can't take advantage of you. I won't, sweetheart. You trust me. I don't know how I earned that from you so quickly, but I cherish it. I can't break that. I can't take what you want to give me. It's just not the right time.

What you just did is proof of that. You tried to give me something, something that we both know you don't like, because you want to please me. I don't want that. That doesn't make me happy. I don't ever want you to sacrifice yourself to please me, to make yourself less than whole for me. See how unselfish you really are? You're willing to give, but it's too much. I'm not so arrogant that I'm willing to take it from you. I care for you too deeply.

I was never going to take what you were offering me, but I was arrogant enough to toy with you. I couldn't resist. You don't need to offer it. You'll get it, it's inevitable, your smart mouth will see to that. I won't apologize for doing it, and you won't like it, but it doesn't arouse me. The only thing it means is that I'm angry. I could never be turned on by hurting you. I'm not sure what kind of a freak you've convinced yourself that I am, but I promise you, you'll never have to worry about that.

Don't give me too much, Claire. Don't break yourself into pieces for me. It's very sweet that you want to make me happy, but you do that by just being you. If I want something from you, I'll tell you, but it doesn't mean you have to give it to me. You'll always have a choice. You can always say no. Don't give me something that breaks you. Until I'm confident that you won't do that, I won't let you give yourself to me, no matter how much I want you.

And I want you to know something. I love your words. What you said to me... my God... You have no idea what that did to me. That's the sexiest thing that could ever come out of your beautiful mouth. I wanted to give you what you asked me for, I wanted to show you, believe me...

That was perhaps the most difficult test of will of my life, but I couldn't fail it. I couldn't fail you. I hope someday you realize that I did exactly what you asked me for by stopping. You do belong to me, Claire. I treasure you above all else, far more than any wants that my body has for you. I faltered for a moment, but I found the will. Your words gave it back to me. The trust that poured from them.

You are mine. I made you mine the moment you put your hand in mine. You were trembling, but you gave it to me. I took it selfishly. You let me. I told you not to be afraid, and you went with me. You let me show you. You let me explain. You didn't run away. I know now how much you gave me by not running. You stayed with me. You trusted me not to hurt you. You knew how much I wanted, and still you stayed. You let me hold you. You looked into my eyes a thousand times that day, finding your answers, building your trust from what you saw. You gave me so much that day, more than I could have dreamed of, and you've been giving ever since.

Trust. Everything you give me comes from trust.

I'm asking for it now, Claire. Can you trust me just one more time? Can you trust me to decide when the time is right? Please?"

Why do I feel such desperation? Tears are welling in my eyes. Tears for his beautiful words. Tears for the beautiful man he is. For me. The beautiful man he is for me.

Tears for how much I want him, how much I want to give myself to him.

Tears for how much he thinks he needs to protect me from himself.

Tears that are falling now.

Tears for what I tried to give him. I feel stupid. I'm embarrassed. I thought it was what he wanted.

Tears for not understanding that he just wants me. That I'm enough.

Tears for the fear I have that I'll destroy that. That all of the stupid things I do will someday be too much.

I keep my eyes down, I can't look at him, ashamed of the desperate words I can't stop myself from speaking. "I'm afraid it will be never."

I hear him expel a frustrated breath, and he repositions me to straddle his lap. He never does this, tensing and immediately taking control of me whenever I do it. I'm shocked even further when he removes his hands from my hips and reaches up with both to wipe the tears from my face. A mix of gestures. Tenderness and trust. It only makes them fall again.

He lifts my face, and kisses them away. "Oh, Claire, what am I going to do with you? What a beautiful mess you are. My beautiful mess. Look at me, please."

I do as he asks, and the tenderness I'm met with could crumble me. How can he adore me so much?

His voice is achingly soft. "What do you see? You've always looked into my eyes for the answers. Look now. What are they telling you? Do you see never? I don't think you do. I never want to be without you, but that's the only never you'll find there. I'm sure of that. I ache for the day I can accept the gift you want to give me. I promise you it will come. There's no rush, sweetheart, we have all of the time in the world. Look. I hope what you see is forever, because that's everything I see when I look at you."

He's right. That is what I see, exactly what I see, clear and bright and beautiful, and the final wall comes crashing down. I didn't even realize it was up until it came down around me. I crumble with it, overcome by his love, his limitless patience with me. I collapse into him, the tears now a downpour, my body convulsing violently, letting go of everything that's held me down all of my life. I gasp for air as the weight lifts from me, the lid is opened. I cling to him, like I've never clung to anyone or anything, because I'm afraid I'll float away. My fear is irrational, his arms are tight around me, holding me close, letting me need him, letting me take. He won't let go, in this he will spoil me.

I struggle to catch my breath, new breath, long enough to speak one word to him. I need him to hear my answer. I need him to know what I saw. It comes out in strangled syllables.

"For... e... ver."