The Art of Zen, page 25
“Perfect!” she gushed. “Today I’m being a cheesy tourist. I spent the morning at the Eiffel Tower, and this afternoon I’m taking a boat tour along the Seine River. Tomorrow I’m spending my day at the hotel’s spa. You need to come with me next time.”
“Maybe I will. It sounds wonderful.”
“I’m surprised I’m hearing from you two days in a row, so I believe you’ve called me for one of two reasons. One,” she continued before Tia could interject. “You’ve realized you can’t walk away from painting and you’re starting to think about your next creation.”
“Wrong,” Tia answered.
“Then two,” Vivian said smugly. “You’re going to have sex with The Chadwick.”
“Tonight,” Tia confirmed, her voice shaky.
Vivian softened when she heard the tremble in Tia’s voice. “Don’t overthink it, my dear.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “What if I disappoint him? What if I do it wrong?”
“How can you do it wrong? Nothing’s changed in sex during your dry spell.”
“You know what I mean,” Tia huffed.
“I do,” Vivian agreed. “Nerves are normal. Use them to your advantage. Does he know this is happening?” Vivian listened while Tia filled her in on the drawing she left in Spencer’s wallet. “Oh, what a clever way to tell him.”
“He wasn’t supposed to find it until he was well into his workday, but he found it before he left, so he knows. I know, he knows, you know. Now I’m going to spend the day overthinking absolutely everything and working myself into a frenzy. Even talking about it makes me want to run away and hide.”
“Relax. I highly doubt he’s going to come in that door tonight and jump you. He knows about your past. He'll take it slow.”
“What should I do? Wear something sexy? I don’t have any lingerie with me, but there’s no way I’m sending Marcelo out to buy me sex clothes. Should I answer the door naked? Should I be in the bathtub and have it full of bubbles? How do I do this? I haven’t initiated something like this in years and now I feel like an idiot for putting that picture in his wallet.”
Vivian’s soft laughter interrupted her rambling. “All of that sounds fabulous, except for someone buying your sex clothes, I agree. Keep it simple. As this progresses-”
“What if it doesn’t?” Tia interrupted. “What if I’m so bad at this tonight that he kicks me out?”
“As this progresses,” Vivian repeated. “You can do any one of those things you just mentioned, but keep tonight simple. Pour wine, have some soft music playing in the background. Make him dinner.”
“Dinner,” Tia echoed the word. “I can do that. Nothing fancy though.”
“He won’t need fancy. Not if there’s a promise of sex.”
“Ok.” Tia nodded, then repeated herself. “Ok. Wine will calm the nerves, music will set the mood, and it will be a nice gesture to have dinner ready for him.”
“Excellent,” Vivian approved. “I’ll want details, of course, but not tomorrow since I’ll be at the spa. In the meantime, let’s talk about what you should make for dinner.”
While Tia and Vivian brain-stormed menu options, Spencer walked into the restaurant with purpose. His footsteps were confident and his stride was long. He couldn’t help but whistle a happy tune, even as he walked through the rubble that resulted from the vandalism.
Carlos and Mario watched his entrance. They gave each other a sly grin as Spencer headed their way.
“Good morning,” Spencer greeted.
“You’re in an awfully good mood this morning, boss,” Carlos teased. He turned to Mario and held out his hand, then nodded when Mario placed a twenty dollar bill in his palm.
“What was that for?” Spencer asked about their exchange.
“Nothing but a friendly bet with my cousin, boss. We saw the way you and Miss Tia were looking at each other on Saturday. Now on Monday, you walk in here, practically skipping while you’re whistling. And you’ve got a satisfied grin on your face. It’s obvious you got yourself laid last night.”
Spencer’s steps slowed as he reached the bar. He looked between them with a smirk then took the twenty dollar bill out of Carlos’s hand and gave it back to Mario. “I’ll thank you two to not wager on my sex life. I did not get laid last night.” He couldn’t help but indulge in a little locker room talk. “With any luck, it will be tonight.”
“Told ya!” It was Mario’s turn to hold out his hand while Carlos opened his wallet for a twenty dollar bill.
Spencer reached for it before it landed in Mario’s palm and gave it back to Carlos. “Show a little respect. At least exchange the money when I’m not around.”
“I’ll get you in the kitchen, cuz,” Carlos promised. Carlos glanced past Spencer’s shoulder when the door opened and Marcelo walked in. He held up his hand before he could talk. “In the kitchen. Boss doesn’t want us betting in front of him.”
“Let’s focus,” Spencer said, suddenly all business. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Mario reach under the bar and place a large envelope on the counter. “Carlos, what’s the schedule like today?”
“Alarm company should be here any minute and the tables and chairs will be taken care of by noon.”
“Perfect,” Spencer praised. “Marcelo, I need you and Mario to run some errands, and please make sure you swing by here at noon so you can get lunch for Tia and deliver it along with the items I need you to pick up.”
“Sure thing,” Marcelo acknowledged.
“What is that?” Spencer addressed Mario and pointed to the envelope.
“Well...” Mario briefly shuffled his feet. When Carlos and Marcelo both gave their nods of encouragement, he pulled a sketchpad out of the envelope. “I was wondering... I mean... if it’s not too much trouble... Do you think Tia would mind looking at some of my work and giving me feedback?” When he noticed Spencer hesitate, he rambled on. “I realize she said she doesn’t want to paint anymore, but maybe she wouldn’t mind just taking a look and telling me what she thinks. But I don’t want to impose...”
Spencer flipped through the sketchpad, impressed with the images that flashed by. “I don’t think you’re imposing, but what you said is true. Tia doesn’t want to create anything right now. I don’t know if this would be a good distraction for her or a harsh reminder of what happened.”
Mario reached for his work. “It was just a thought... it’s stupid, I know.”
Spencer held it out of his reach. “It’s not stupid. Don’t ever say that about something that means a lot to you. You’ll be there with Marcelo in a few hours, would you like to ask her yourself?”
“Nah...” He shuffled his feet once more. “I could never directly ask someone as talented as Tia to waste her time looking at my stuff. I just thought... maybe I could ask you a favor... I know I have no right with all the Ainsley shit... stuff,” he corrected himself. “It was dumb, I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” Spencer demanded. “I had no idea until Saturday that you even knew how to doodle, much less produce work like this, and your tattoo.” He pointed to Mario’s arm. “I’ll take it home and ask Tia, then I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, man!” Mario gushed. “I hope she likes it!”
Spencer slid the sketchpad back into the envelope and placed it into his briefcase, ready to dig into his day. “Marcelo, Mario, come with me so I can fill you in on what I need done. Carlos, let me know when workers start to arrive.” As they all agreed, he turned away from the bar and stopped briefly to look at Tia’s ruined mural. He turned back to Carlos and pointed to the wall. “This?”
“I have a man coming by in about an hour for a quote to sand it down and patch the drywall and to...” He trailed off.
“To?” Spencer wondered, but the feeling in the pit of his gut told him what he already knew.
“To have it painted over to start fresh. It’s the only way, boss. If the gouges weren’t there, it might be salvageable, but it’s completely ruined.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Spencer agreed with a heavy exhale.
“Is there enough time for Miss Tia to start over?” Mario inquired.
“Even if she was interested in doing this again, there’s not enough time. I’ll have to think of something else.” Spencer had thought of something else, but he wasn’t going to announce his plan yet.
Once Spencer sent Marcelo and Mario on their way to run errands, he settled at his desk and got to work. Carlos was on top of the repairs. Spencer was going to keep on top of his daily tasks, stay as on schedule for the opening as he could, and figure out what, if anything, he wanted to do for the wall space that only a few days ago featured Tia’s mural. He wanted her work there and loved the skyline with all the touches of the city she had created.
There was one way to feature Tia Zen’s work in his restaurant, but Tia would kill him if he did it. A few weeks ago he wouldn’t have cared what her reaction would be if he took the image of the artwork he owned, per their contract, and turned it into a canvas for the wall. Spencer normally took the road less traveled and followed his head and not his heart when it came to business. Now that his heart was involved, he wasn’t sure what to do. If he asked for Tia’s permission, which legally he knew he didn’t need, he was certain he would be met with resistance or downright refusal. If he made the executive decision and transferred her image to canvas, he would get what he wanted, but at what price? Even though Tia didn’t know how he felt about her, to do this without her consent felt like he was going behind her back. The last thing he wanted to do was bother Vivian, yet again, while she was out of the country and on vacation, but as Tia’s manager, he needed to know her opinion. Vivian understood Tia well enough, but she also understood when business was simply that... business.
Spencer reached for his wallet and removed the drawing Tia had snuck in there. A smile lit up his face as his eyes soaked in not only the sight of the two of them side by side but the promise of that one word. Tonight. This evening they would take that next step. It was barely nine o’clock in the morning and he was already anxious to get home. Spencer straightened out the bend in the Post It and adhered it to the top corner of his laptop for motivation to get through the day quickly. He'd dig into his day and give Vivian a call when the time was right.
All in all, the day went smoothly. Carlos took control of the table and chair replacement. Spencer took a break from paperwork when the alarm company arrived so he could make sure the technicians knew how many security cameras he wanted and where he wanted them placed. The quote on sanding the wall and patching the drywall was in the range of what Spencer expected. He signed the paperwork and scheduled the contractor to come out at the end of the week. In just four short days, the wall would be good as new. A blank canvas. He couldn’t help but feel a stab of disappointment to see Tia’s work so easily erased.
Toward the end of the workday, Spencer lost track of time in emails and phone calls. He snapped to attention when he heard footsteps rushing down the hall toward his office and Carlos’s raised voice.
“Wait! Give me a second to tell him you’re here. He’s busy. Ainsley, wait!”
The moment Spencer heard Ainsley’s name, he stood up quickly from his desk. The door to his office flew open and Ainsley rushed in, a mass of blonde hair flowing over her shoulders. Her perfume permeated the air, the scent of Angel he once thought was intriguing and sexy. Now he found it overbearing and cloying. Sickening sweet.
“I’m sorry, boss,” Carlos said, breathless from chasing Ainsley. “The door was open because of all the workers. I tried to stop her.”
“It’s ok.” Spencer held up a hand to stop his prattle. His blue eyes glared into Ainsley with anger. “You can go.” He waited until the door closed to address her. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here.”
Ainsley shook back her blonde tresses and held her head high. “And you have a lot of nerve sending detectives after me to question me. How dare you!” she seethed.
“How dare me?” His voice roared. “How dare you for having any part in what’s happened over the last few days. God, Ainsley! I knew you were a vicious bitch, but to destroy all of Tia’s artwork, and then vandalize her mural and my restaurant. That’s low! Even for you.”
“I was in the Hamptons!” she cried.
“Sure,” he agreed. “You were, but whoever you hired to do this was right here in the city. Nice alibi, by the way. A socialite at a charity event, showing the community how big her heart is while secretly she was plotting destruction.”
“I did no such thing!” Ainsley insisted and stamped her foot for good measure.
Spencer sat down tiredly in his desk chair. “Go cry to someone else.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to stay patient. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was to have the police hunt me down and question me in front of my friends?”
“I couldn’t care less about your public shame. Did you ever give one thought to how it would affect an artist to destroy everything they’ve created? All because you wouldn’t accept the fact that I ended things between us.”
Ainsley plopped down in the chair across from him. “Spencer, I had nothing to do with any of this. You have to believe me.”
“Why?” he questioned. “The night I broke up with you, you not only accused me of cheating on you with Tia, but you also threatened to do something if you saw the two of us in public together. She and I had dinner and immediately after that, all this destruction happened.” All of his annoyances aside, he couldn’t help but glance at his Post It and grin with anticipation.
Ainsley noticed the shift of his gaze and waited, impatiently, for him to look at her again. The things he accused her of were serious. What was so amusing to him? “I said those things in the heat of the moment. I reacted, can you blame me? Five years together and I wanted to make things permanent and then you broke up with me with no warning.”
“Warning signs were all over the place,” he stated all business.
“Fine,” Ainsley huffed. “But I didn’t destroy Tia’s work, and I didn’t hire someone to do my dirty work. I swear.” She scooted to the front of her seat, her features earnest. “Can we talk further about this? I’d like to have dinner with you. It’s been a few weeks and the time apart was good for me, and I hope it was good for you.”
“I’ve enjoyed it so far,” he said with a smug grin.
“So, you had dinner with her?” Ainsley asked. She tried to keep the bite out of her voice but wasn’t successful.
Spencer glanced at Tia’s drawing once again. “Yes, we had dinner.” He pulled his eyes away from the Post It and met Ainsley’s gaze as an idea hit him. “All of her artwork in her home, and the mural here, was destroyed. You own one of her most recent paintings. I’d like to buy it from you.”
“What?” Ainsley jerked her head back in shock. “I’m not selling you that, I paid nearly seven thousand dollars for that.”
“I’ll give you ten,” he offered.
“It’s not for sale!” she snapped. “As much as I think Tia set her sights on you the moment she met you, I still respect her work.” Ainsley huffed again when she noticed Spencer’s attention was once more diverted to the corner of his computer screen. “Spencer, I want to clear the air between us, maybe mend this gap. Can we have dinner tomorrow or lunch?” she said quickly when she saw refusal was on his lips. “Nothing formal, no emotions,” she promised. “Spencer, would you please look at me?” Ainsley implored when he focused on the corner of his computer screen once more. “Spencer! Dammit, look at me!” She couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up, walked around to see what had his attention, and snatched the Post It off the edge of his computer screen.
Ainsley had come into his office with bravery and maturity, in her eyes. She was willing to put the past behind them and start fresh. His suspicion embarrassed her more than it hurt her, but she was certain they could find common ground. When she held the Post It in her hands and saw Tia’s drawing of the likeness of Spencer and what was obviously Tia with a heart between them and the single word that spoke volumes, she knew it was truly over. It wasn’t heartbreak she felt at that moment. It was anger. Pure, unadulterated anger. Spencer didn’t need time like she initially thought. He was done for good.
“Well,” she sneered. “If you haven’t been fucking her, it’s clear you’re going to have quite the evening tonight. Congratulations, Spencer.” She crumpled up the paper and tossed it at him. “You’ve downgraded.”
Spencer caught the ball of paper easily with one hand. His blood boiled with rage to see yet another creation of Tia’s, small as it was, destroyed at this hateful person’s hand. Slowly he stood up from his desk and walked to the door of his office. He opened the door and sent Ainsley a scathing glare. “Get out,” he said with all the calm he could muster. Inside he simmered with anger. “If one more thing happens to either me or Tia, I’ll have the police after you so quickly, you won’t know what hit you.” As quickly as he opened the door, he shut it and met Ainsley’s glare. “To insult someone you barely know is a direct reflection of you. Tia’s nowhere near a downgrade. She has more class in her little finger than you try to project publicly. You could take a few pointers from her while you’re watching her every move.” He opened the door with finality and stepped back to let her leave. “Goodbye, Ainsley.”
When she left, Spencer sat down at his desk with a heavy sigh. It took all of his control not to hurl his paperweight at the door. He uncrumpled the Post It and smoothed it out as best as he could before he folded it up and put it back into his wallet.
There were emails to return, appointments to schedule, and phone calls to make. All of that could be done tomorrow. Spencer decided he was done for the day. He glanced up when Carlos knocked on his door and peeked in.
“I’m sorry about that, boss,” Carlos apologized. “She just waltzed on in here like she belonged here.”
