Sweetest Venom
Page 50
I push her straight, perfectly blown out hair out of the way, and begin to suck the back of her neck, marking her. “Oh God … Yes, Ronan. Fine. Later.”
I let her go and grin like a cocky motherfucker as I watch her walk away with shaky legs and burning eyes, heat spreading through her cheeks.
Back in the living room, I find Carl looking at another photograph. By the time he notices me, he places the picture down on the coffee table and walks back to the tiny kitchen. “You’re a very talented young man. I’m truly surprised you’ve remained under the radar for so long.”
“Thank you. I guess I never pursued anything too seriously. Life kept getting in the way.” After I got into art school, Jackie got pregnant and needed my help. I put my dreams on the back burner, quit school, and got a job that paid okay money. We couldn’t allow our grandparents to pay for everything. And then a couple years later, another chance came knocking on my door. Edgar got me in touch with an art dealer, who had seen a shoot that I did for a very obscure fashion magazine and liked what he saw. We set up an appointment to meet at his gallery the day before he was flying to Milan. On my way to the meeting, I got a call from school. Ollie had fallen from the monkey bars and broken his arm. Jackie was working and couldn’t get out of work and our grandparents were away visiting friends in Florida. I called the art dealer and apologized. We never met.
“I see… A word of advice?”
“Yes?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Be gentle with her. She just got out of a nasty divorce.”
Reclining against the fridge, I cross my arms on my chest. “We’re just having fun.”
He takes his glasses off and carefully polishes them with a handkerchief. “It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt, isn’t it?”
“With all due respect, what Rachel and I choose to do is none of your business.”
“Of course, but—”
“She’s an adult, she knows what she’s doing.”
“I know she is, but do you?”
I scowl. “What do you mean?”
“I get the feeling that you’re playing a very dangerous game, Ronan. One that will leave many people hurt. Do you know what I think?”
“Why don’t you enlighten me?”
Carl stares at me, like he’s able to see past all my walls. “I think that you’re chasing more than fame here—something that Rachel and I can’t give you. I could be wrong, but I rarely am.”
At that moment, Rachel comes back into the room, forcing us to drop the subject. I make myself unclench my jaw so I can smile at Rachel, who’s watching us carefully.
“What were you guys talking about? You seem so serious.”
Staring at Carl, I take Rachel’s hand in mine, raise it to my lips, and kiss it. “Nothing important.”
“So what do you think, Carl?” She smiles at both of us. “Do you think that Ronan has what it takes to take the art world by storm?”
He clears his throat, but he can’t erase the concern in his expression. Looking at Carl, I get the sense that part of him wants me to reject their help. In his silence, he’s giving me a chance to do the right thing and walk away from Rachel, but I’m done doing the right thing. For once in my life, I want to think of me and only me.
I remain silent.
“I’m fairly certain that he will, Rachel. Question is,” he turns to face me, “are you ready, my boy?”
So the charade is back on, and I’m not surprised. The thing is, even though I can see the concern and affection that Carl has for Rachel, he can’t hide the greed behind his eyes. He wants me as much as Rachel wants me.
I let her go and grin like a cocky motherfucker as I watch her walk away with shaky legs and burning eyes, heat spreading through her cheeks.
Back in the living room, I find Carl looking at another photograph. By the time he notices me, he places the picture down on the coffee table and walks back to the tiny kitchen. “You’re a very talented young man. I’m truly surprised you’ve remained under the radar for so long.”
“Thank you. I guess I never pursued anything too seriously. Life kept getting in the way.” After I got into art school, Jackie got pregnant and needed my help. I put my dreams on the back burner, quit school, and got a job that paid okay money. We couldn’t allow our grandparents to pay for everything. And then a couple years later, another chance came knocking on my door. Edgar got me in touch with an art dealer, who had seen a shoot that I did for a very obscure fashion magazine and liked what he saw. We set up an appointment to meet at his gallery the day before he was flying to Milan. On my way to the meeting, I got a call from school. Ollie had fallen from the monkey bars and broken his arm. Jackie was working and couldn’t get out of work and our grandparents were away visiting friends in Florida. I called the art dealer and apologized. We never met.
“I see… A word of advice?”
“Yes?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Be gentle with her. She just got out of a nasty divorce.”
Reclining against the fridge, I cross my arms on my chest. “We’re just having fun.”
He takes his glasses off and carefully polishes them with a handkerchief. “It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt, isn’t it?”
“With all due respect, what Rachel and I choose to do is none of your business.”
“Of course, but—”
“She’s an adult, she knows what she’s doing.”
“I know she is, but do you?”
I scowl. “What do you mean?”
“I get the feeling that you’re playing a very dangerous game, Ronan. One that will leave many people hurt. Do you know what I think?”
“Why don’t you enlighten me?”
Carl stares at me, like he’s able to see past all my walls. “I think that you’re chasing more than fame here—something that Rachel and I can’t give you. I could be wrong, but I rarely am.”
At that moment, Rachel comes back into the room, forcing us to drop the subject. I make myself unclench my jaw so I can smile at Rachel, who’s watching us carefully.
“What were you guys talking about? You seem so serious.”
Staring at Carl, I take Rachel’s hand in mine, raise it to my lips, and kiss it. “Nothing important.”
“So what do you think, Carl?” She smiles at both of us. “Do you think that Ronan has what it takes to take the art world by storm?”
He clears his throat, but he can’t erase the concern in his expression. Looking at Carl, I get the sense that part of him wants me to reject their help. In his silence, he’s giving me a chance to do the right thing and walk away from Rachel, but I’m done doing the right thing. For once in my life, I want to think of me and only me.
I remain silent.
“I’m fairly certain that he will, Rachel. Question is,” he turns to face me, “are you ready, my boy?”
So the charade is back on, and I’m not surprised. The thing is, even though I can see the concern and affection that Carl has for Rachel, he can’t hide the greed behind his eyes. He wants me as much as Rachel wants me.
