The Space Between Us(106)
“Do we have to go to your art show?” I had better plans in mind.
She lifted an eyebrow at me and a lesser man would have shriveled at the glare she shot my direction.
“I love it when you’re stern,” I said, purposefully making my voice low and dark.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said, laughing. “We have to go. If you don’t behave I’ll renege on the promise I made earlier.” And that was enough to get my ass in gear. I could spend the evening thinking of every way I could peel the dress off her after the show. “The limo should be waiting downstairs.”
“Ooh, a limo, huh? You’re pretty fancy.”
“This isn’t me, it’s the gallery. I’d love to walk in with some overalls and a braid, but apparently they frown upon ordinary.” We entered the hallway and walked towards the elevator.
“Bit, I can assure you, you’d look anything but ordinary in overalls and a braid.”
“Well, all I’m saying is I feel ridiculous in this dress. But,” she said as she looked down at herself. “I look smokin’ hot.”
“Yes, my love, you do.”
It was amazing to watch her work a room. She was a little flustered when people offered her compliments on her work, but for the most part she was graceful, humble, and entirely captivating. My chest pushed out and my shoulders were pulled back, filled with pride. My Charlie, even when fighting through a life that she colored as less-than-happy, was pursuing her dream and making waves in the art world. I could not have been more proud of her in that moment.
She was in the middle of a conversation with a representative from some art magazine in the city, offering insights to her process and her technique. I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I’m going to get a drink. Can I bring you something?”
“I’ll take champagne,” she said softly. Our hands linked and I brought her fingers to my lips, kissing them lightly before I turned away in search of the bar. Waiting for our drinks, I smiled as I overheard the couple next to me talking about Charlie’s work.
“Such depth. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a charcoal drawing that evoked so much emotion from me before.” I glanced over to see a woman, probably in her mid-sixties, sipping a drink, complimenting my Bit.
“Well, it goes to show you that truly talented artists don’t need color or even texture to convey meaning. She’s nailed every single piece. We’ll be in a bidding war by the end of the evening, I’m sure.” This came from the man standing next to her who I assumed was her husband.
“Oh, there she is,” the woman said excitedly. “Let’s go talk to her, shall we? Before someone else monopolizes her.”
I was ready to monopolize her. I thanked the bartender for our drinks and turned to make my way back when I spotted a different man standing with Charlie. When I made it close enough to hear their conversation, my concern immediately spiked. She looked uncomfortable and nervous. She shook her head, looking around the room frantically. When her eyes landed on me, I thought I saw sadness wash over them. Ignoring my instincts I sidled up to her, handing her the champagne, wrapping my arm around her waist. Possession was something I always reverted back to. I didn’t know who this man was, but one thing I was sure of was who Charlie belonged to.
I sipped my scotch, slowly, my eyes never leaving the man who was currently watching my arm pull Charlie to my side. He looked like he wanted to rip my arm from my body, which gave me an indication as to who he was.
“Good evening,” he said coolly. He stuck his hand out in my direction. “I’m David, a friend of Charlie’s.”
I looked at his hand but made no move to shake it. I had Charlie in one hand which was too important to let go of, and scotch in the other, also ranking as more important at the moment.
“Nice to meet you,” I replied. I felt Charlie trembling and thought I heard a small cry leave her. “I’m Asher, also a friend of Charlie’s. A close friend.”
David’s face slowly fell from its stuffy polite expression. His eyes widened, his mouth opened slowly, and his eyes wandered back over the Charlie.
“Asher?” He asked her. “The Asher? Asher Asher?” His voice went from pleasant to an angry whisper and he took a step towards her. I quickly moved to stand in between them, my free hand splayed behind me to keep her away. He would not be getting any closer to her.
“David, why are you here? Please leave,” she begged. I could tell she was trying to maintain a level voice, but I could hear the pain seeping through.
“This is the Asher whose name is tattooed on your body?” My fist clenched at what he had implied. He’d seen her naked. The idea of another man seeing her body, seeing what was mine, enraged me. In the back of my mind, I knew it was rational that her boyfriend of five years had seen her naked, but she never belonged to him. She had always been mine.
“She asked you to leave. I suggest you listen to her.” I took one small step towards him again, closing the distance. I was taller than he was although not by much. But I was much broader than him. I had no doubt I could take him if I had to remove him myself.
“David, please.” She begged him and later I would remember to ask her why she sounded so afraid, but at that moment I was only worried about getting him away from her.
“What’s wrong, Charlie? You look pretty upset for someone who just found out her best friend from childhood isn’t dead after all. Shouldn’t this be a happy occasion?” He took a drink from his glass and grimaced as he swallowed the alcohol down. His eyes never left Charlie and when I looked back at her I saw her face streaked with tears. I began to realize that I had no idea what they seemed to be communicating silently between them. David’s eyes came back to me. “Did you know the entire time we were together, for five years, she told me that you had died in a car accident?”