Silent No More(65)

“Are we okay?” He nods as he places his palms on both sides of me, cupping my hips.

“It’s been a really long day and I want to take a shower. Join me?” I quickly nod my head. I’m amazed at how at ease I feel when I’m in his arms. He scoots to the edge of the couch and I move my arms up and around his neck. Nick stands with me, and as I wrap my legs around his waist, he walks to bedroom.





FOURTEEN





Thursday morning arrives, although not soon enough. It’s been three days since my trip to the emergency room. Nick has kept a watchful eye on me, making me stay at home. I don’t protest, but the last three days have sucked. Well, mostly sucked.

If not for my friends and Nick’s sister keeping me company, I wouldn’t have lasted more than a day sitting around doing nothing. I like to read, but even that gets old if that’s all there is to do. Don’t get me started on watching TV. Daytime TV is the worst. I can’t take all the soap operas and talk shows. Who enjoys that crap?

Nikki has become as essential person in my life. I adore Nick’s sister, and over the last few days, I’ve discovered we’re a lot alike.

Luckily for me, she doesn't kill me for outing her to her brother. She and I are doing a “spa day” at Serenity after my meeting with Teresa Matthews this morning. I really need a few hours of being pampered.

The elevator doors open and I walk out into the main lobby at Lockhart Publishing. Rachel is all smiles as I make my way over to her desk.

“Good morning, Shannon,” she says cheerfully.

“Morning,” I greet her.

She stands, walking out behind her desk. “Miss Matthews just wrapped up a conference call, so I’ll take you to her office, unless of course you want to say 'hi' to my boss first.” She’s giving me a knowing smile. Great. She knows I’m seeing Nick.

“No, I’m only here to meet with Teresa. I’m sure Nick is busy anyway,” I say.

“Okay, right this way then.” She leads me a short distance down a hall on the east side of the building. Rachel knocks lightly before entering the room. “Miss Taylor is here.”

Teresa looks up from her computer and immediately pushes her chair back to stand. She is an attractive woman, and I’m guessing she’s in her early thirties, probably only a year or two older than Nick. She has loose blonde curls that stop right past her shoulders. She is wearing a tight-fitting black dress that stops just above the knee. The top is a swoop neck that shows off her abundance of cleavage.

“Shannon, it’s great to see you again. Please come in and take a seat.” She gestures to the chairs in front of her desk. I walk up and plant myself in one the comfy chairs.

“How are you this morning?” I say, making an effort to be nice. I like Teresa, but she always comes off a little fake. I wonder if she is like this with all clients?

“Well, and you?” she asks, sitting back down in her chair.

“Great thanks. So, what things in my portfolio did you want to discuss?” I ask, getting to the point. I’m ready to get my hour-long massage on, so the quicker we wrap this up, the quicker I’ll be relaxing.

She turns in her chair grabbing what I’m assuming is my portfolio on the counter behind her. She turns back around and lays the collection on her desk. Thumbing through a few pages, I see she comes to a group of photos I took downtown in San Diego of an industrial warehouse that had graffiti art sprayed on it. These are my favorite photos in the collection. They showcase the artist’s beautiful talent.

“I feel we need to remove these photos replacing them with a couple,” she pauses for a beat, “of more tasteful pictures. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Uh…no.

“How are these photos not tasteful?” I ask, lowering my brow. I’ve taken somewhat of a defensive tone with her, but I don’t care. She has just criticized my work. It’s not that I can’t take criticism, because I can. Everyone can use a dose of constructive criticism from time to time, and I also know I’m not going to make every person happy with my work. I don’t strive to. However, to say these photos aren’t tasteful is to say the artist’s work I captured isn’t tasteful. There aren’t many people in this world that have that type of creative talent.

“These pictures show the work of a hoodlum defacing buildings. They don’t belong in a book that’s published by Lockhart Publishing.” She is trying to match my defensive tone. And now, she has pissed me off. Hoodlums? Did she really just use that term?

“Is Nick…olas in agreement with this?” I spit out too quickly. I don’t know if she knows I’m in a relationship with him and really I don’t care. I wouldn’t use him to get my book published, but I do think he would have talked to me about this first.