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“Medium?”
“I see. You truly are a newbie,” she chuckles sweetly. “Okay. Does she use acrylic, watercolor, oil, gouache, or ink?”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps you can give me a bit of everything. Just in case.”
“Okay. I can do that. How much were you wanting to spend?”
“Price isn’t an object. I want her to enjoy this gift.”
“Your friend is a very lucky lady.”
Yeah, I think so, but I know Emily will disagree vehemently.
“I have a few other errands to run. Would you put something together for me in the meantime? I’ll be back in an hour to fetch it.”
“It will be my pleasure.”
“Thank you; you’re very kind.”
I leave the assistant to it and make my way to a clothing store. Emily will need new clothes. The one outfit I arranged for her isn’t enough, taking into consideration that she’s going to be with me for a while.
It’s easy to buy clothes for her. Emily’s body is perfect, so she will likely look spectacular in whatever I give her. Underwear is a challenge. It’s such a personal item. I hope my choice won’t piss her off even further. I’m already in the doghouse.
Why do I care, anyway? I’m doing my best. If she can’t see that, then it’s not my problem.
I spend a good hour choosing jeans, shirts, sleepwear, undies, fragrances, and shoes I think will look good on her. The bill is substantial, but I don’t care. It’s not like I have to budget anyway.
The art supplies are wrapped up and ready for me when I get back to the store. I thank the assistant, pay for the supplies, and leave her a generous tip for her expert assistance. Now the hard bit. I have to give all this to Emily and hope she doesn’t throw it at my head.
I suppose I could have done this the easy way. I have people who would gladly do all this crap for me, but I feel I owe my captive the respect of delivering it myself. It’s been a full day since the kiss, but I swear I can still taste Emily on my lips. I rap softly on the door before I enter her room.
“Can I come in?” I ask, lingering in the doorway.
“Why are you asking? This is your prison. You can do as you like.”
Ouch. It’s official. Emily is still angry. I enter with my meager offerings and set the bags down on the table.
“I brought you a few things.”
“Unless there’s a ticket to Tahiti somewhere in there, I’m not interested.”
“I’ll just leave it here for you. Let me know if you need anything, and I’ll see what I can do,” I say before I turn to leave.
“I want to go home, Lucas.”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t.”
“I wish I’d never set eyes on you.”
That was unnecessary. I leave the room feeling dejected and just a tad offended.
* * *
Emily
I’m spitting mad. Does this thug truly believe that he can placate me with a few gifts? Like a petulant child, I stay on the bed long after Lucas has left the room and locked the door behind him.
I’m well aware that I’m acting like a brat, but what other options do I have? I want Lucas to know how angry I am with him. I want him to hurt like I do. He may not have pulled the trigger on the weapon that killed David, but he’s responsible nonetheless. If it weren’t for him and his shady business, my brother would still be alive. How can I act as if everything is fine?