Day three of looking for a job didn't go as well as I thought it would. I still haven't told Evan that I got fired and I wasn't planning to. Instead, I told a little white lie about working shorter hours— and that's why I was currently looking for a new job. Evan didn't need to know it was because of my stupid manager that thought he was the monkey's eyebrows —just because he told a group of people trying to earn an honest living what and what not to do as well as tutored them on the proper and most effective way to kiss a customer's ass. "I admire you, April," Evan said, leaning over my coffee table and kissing my forehead. "Why is that?" I asked. "You're looking for a better job while your boss cut your shift hours. You have determination," please stop talking, "you're focused. Goal driven." He sang my praises. "You always get back on that horse and grab it by the reigns." Not the horse. The horse barely gave anyone a break. The horse seemed to dislike me and kept kicking me o
Sunday evenings we had lunch with my parents or Evan's. Recently we've been having it with both our parents and this time Evan's grandmother was going to be there. I was close to my family but no one ever supported my dreams of being an artist except Rain. Not even Evan though he said he did but he would often refer to it as a nice hobby which I translated into a pass time. Something not serious. But painting wasn't a pass time for me. It was a piece of my soul going into every one of my creations and no one seemed to see that. Evan parked his car in the driveway behind his parent's car. "Do you need a lift in the morning to work since your car is in the shop?" He asked.I was barely managing to keep up with my lies. I hid my car from Evan because the front bumper was a little banged up. "No," I blurted and he had a confused look on his face. "Okay..." He dragged out. "I already made arrangements with a co-worker." I slid out of the car in a rush to go inside before I told more l
Constantine's Pov The door slammed causing me to sit up quickly in bed, firstly mishearing and thinking it was a gunshot. "Constantine!" My father's voice pulled me back to the land of the living and angry, chasing the remnants of my sleep away. My eyes squinted though the room wasn't bright-— that door slam sent shock waves to my head. I focused on him standing at the foot of my bed. He was dressed in a grey suit and looked more stressed than when he left. He was home two days early. "You're back," my words sounded like a groan. He let out a sigh of disapproval and reached for the master remote on the dresser. He pressed a button and the thick black curtains slowly parted. Bright sunlight bombarded the dimly lit room irritating my eyes. "What is the meaning of this!" He demanded glancing at the two women in my bed. I balanced on my elbows, pushing myself up to look at him. "I can explain it in a few words or a lot of words." I grinned. After a certain age, a man stopped fearin
"April," Rain yelled banging on my apartment door. Dragging my one shoe along with me to the door and fighting my one arm through a slightly tight jacket— I barrelled out of my room. "April hurry up!" She banged harder shrivelling my last nerve of patience. "There better be a fucking zombie apocalypse outside," I yelled, and pulled open the door to see Rain's face a pale sickly colour. Her eyes were wide and her lips looked like she had been chewing on them. She pushed past me coming into my apartment," Rain," I gasped and she slammed the door shut, locking it. She turned to look at me with wide eyes as if she had seen a ghost. Her fingers were digging into my arm. "Want to tell me what's going on, you lunatic?" I pulled my arm out of hers massaging the sore skin. "That man," she said in a grave voice, "that man, you can't work for that man-" "Rain, what are you talking about?" "He's dangerous. He's a potential suspect in a murder." She pushed a magazine into my hands. She turne
Instead of going for therapy an artist expressed themselves and got paid for it instead. Artists were paid for feeling and expressing those feelings on a canvas. Maybe my art lacked the amount of emotion to get it to where it needed to be. I did not lust, there was no forbidden love, and I had not reached that level of self-loathing that was great enough to paint the masterpiece that lay within my hands."I'm a collector of beautiful things," Constantine walked over to me. "To each their own," I turned away from the black and white painting. I didn't like this piece. I remember the first time I saw it when I was flipping through a copy of Tragic Masterpieces, the painting stirred something within me. It made me feel uneasy. A dark hand reaching out on a white canvas to touch a man's shadow. I unfortunately had to research it for my paper. Then I learned it was renowned mostly for the tragedy behind it. So I couldn't understand why anyone would keep this in a living room and sta
Orange light welcomed my eyes to the small room. The reflection of the sun setting on the wall in front of me had me reach for my phone to check the time. When I couldn't feel my phone on my dresser I sat up in my strangely comfortable bed wondering why the springs weren't stabbing at my ribs. I looked around the room, my vision started to clear and the throbbing pain in my temples subsided. It all started to come back... The events of this morning were unwinding rapidly like a horror movie. I slipped off the bed. My body was fighting to move. My eyes were burning and I touched them gently with the pads of my fingers, shuddering at the puffy feeling. I couldn't believe I pepper sprayed myself. I needed to call Rain. I began turning over the pillows and searching every possible spot in the room for my phone. I couldn't help but kick myself for everything that was happening. Why didn't I just stay in bed last week?Why didn't I just listen to Rain.Why didn't I pursue an e
I slipped the cab driver some money. "Thanks," I said, my voice hoarse from last night's events. I had drunk most of the bottle of wine myself and finished off my rainy-day vodka, which helped me loosen up."Take care, ma'am," he called back as I shimmied off the cab seat. My heels hit the sidewalk with a loud click. I felt like a stranger in my own body as I walked toward the house.I pressed the button on the intercom at the gate, and it immediately began to open. As I walked up the driveway, the hair on my body stood up in anticipation. I looked up and saw a camera peeking at me.I knew the predators were watching.The contract to work for Constantine was straightforward. I would receive a salary of fifty thousand dollars a month, half of which would be deducted to pay for the damages I caused to his one-of-a-kind Lamborghini.It was outrageous to think my life—and my family's—were at risk over a car, that I couldn’t even appreciate the remaining twenty-five thousand I'd be gaining
“So, do you have everything you need?” I asked Evan as we walked hand in hand to his departing gate. “Everything except you,” he said, pulling me close. His hands rested on my waist as he stared lovingly into my eyes. “I wish you were coming with me. I can’t wait to be married to you and for our honeymoon—two weeks in Huawei,” he groaned with pleasure. “And the fact that we haven’t… you know, ever since you suggested we take a break form that so it would be special on our wedding night,” he cleared his throat. I felt my cheeks flush. Evan was my first and longest relationship. My art had always consumed most of my time, leaving little room for anything else until my career refused to bloom from anything beyond the street. “Me too…” My voice trailed off as I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.The thought of moving to Los Angeles if he got the job there was both daunting and intriguing. The idea of never having to live in the same city as Constantine again was incredibly appealing. I