Until We Get There - Lucius (don't even care if i've used it already LOL it's perfect)

_________________________

"You ready?"

Clutching the briefcase by my side I glanced at my dad and sister beside me in the elevator. Oh I was more than ready.

I had to be calm, professional, confidant. And at this very moment, as I ignored Debbie's various lap dogs, I realised I was in fact all of those things. I'm ready. I felt strong. Walking into her office with my sister and father trailing behind me, Debbie lifted her eyes from her laptop with a look that almost resembled a startled deer but as soon as she realised it was me her blue eyes hardened into stones.

For five seconds, she eyed me like a lioness eyeing the competition for the last scrap of meat in the wild. It felt like it was just the two of us in the room despite feeling my dad and sister wander in behind me.

"Do I need to call security?" Were her first words, glancing at my family as well as eyeing me. "Or have you finally come with my paper work."

"Oh, I've come with the paperwork." Yanking open the briefcase I whipped out her papers first. "Here are the termination papers and here is the paper work my lawyers and I drew up to take you to court."

Debbie ran her eyes over the wallet on her desk then rolled her eyes. "Am I calling security or my lawyers first?"

"Personally, I wouldn't waste your phone call on your lawyers so go ahead and call security. But I have a feeling you'll want to hear this first. By writing this contract yourself, which you stated here, you have breached a number of fine printed points on our contract. You ended it before it was due to end, you didn't give me a week's notice and you stated under the highlighted areas here and there that I'm eligible under the terms of gross misconduct which in fact I was not. Oh, here," I placed a copy of Aubrey's signed statement in front of her. "Is a written statement from Aubrey proving everything from his letter to Salon 94 was a crock of shit by you."

Dad cleared his throat but I ignored him.

"And the paperwork underneath it is the statement from the editor from Art In America also saying the Anonymous source was another bout of shi- I mean crap to him about my career."

As her blank eyes ran over the appeal drawn up by my father, sister and a friend of my father's - so to make sure everything was legitimate - I said, "You really shouldn't have written up those papers yourself, Debbie. Your career is over as soon as I come out with these."

Contrasting this day to the day I met her was almost laughable. I was the one in her shoes, the one that held all of the power.

I let it sink into her head, I watched her face pale and the way she blinked repeatedly at the various notarised stacks of paperwork on her desk as if she were wishing them to disappear.

Corrine nudged me. Oh right. I was supposed to say the rest. Although it was fun watching her squirm for the most part I did however have an ultimatum. "But," I resumed. "None of this has to happen."

The papers slipped from her finger tips and she waited, the rise and fall of her breaths shallow and clearly baited with worry.

"I don't have to sue you, Debbie. I don't have to put you out of work. I'm not you, I'm not going to go out of my way to ruin someone else's life like you've done mine. You have a little girl I care too dearly about to do that to her mother. This doesn't have to become public if you agree to leave me alone. Make things right with Salon 94."

The fire in her eyes was enough to burn the entire office down. But I was immune. She couldn't scorch me worth a damn. "That's all you want?"

I smiled. No, it wasn't. "Dad, Corry, can you give us a minute? Make sure no one comes in?"

Corrine leaned in beside me and said, "You're not going to kill her are you? We said that wasn't a good idea-"

"No, Corry. I'll be out in a minute."

The two of them left and I shut the door behind them. "It isn't all I want, Debbie no."

"What do you want, money? Want me to give your name to the MET? The Agora?"

I shook my head.

"Then what do you want from me?"

Slowly, I sat down in the same seat in front of her desk from all those weeks ago; the power so rightfully in the palm of my hand instead of hers. "I want to know why you did this. Why you decided to go down this childish route and ruin what I have in the present for something you had in the past. You have Aiden, you and Eddie divorced each other almost four years ago. I need to know."

As if weighing out her options, she took a deep breath and sighed. "Not that long ago, my baby would ask me where daddy was, why he wasn't living in the same house, why her friends had their mommy and daddy in the same house. And as she got a little older I started to... well, I also held out hope that maybe one day her mom and dad would be together again for her."

Anger boiled within me. "You lied to her? Told her you two would get back together?"

"Am I proud? No. We may be divorced but he is still the father of my child and I still hold on to a little love for him and no matter how much dislike he may have for me, Eddie knows what's best for our daughter. Our interest are the same."

Taking a deep breath and choosing my words carefully, I leaned forward. "When my mother and father divorced, not once did she promise me anything like that. Never. Being together only for your kid especially when there isn't enough or if any love there? That's a nuclear bomb just waiting to explode. It isn't healthy and I'm shocked you didn't realise that after however long you two were married. What you were telling Chelsea; what you've done to me? Wow, it just proves that age isn't anything but a number. You may be older than me but age hasn't made you any wiser or any more mature. I actually liked you, Debbie. Thought you were actually nice, even thought that telling you about Eddie wouldn't have been a problem. I planned on sitting you down and telling you. Would telling you have made anything different?"

Debbie didn't break our stare-off as she leaned back in her chair. Without an answer, I realised no it wouldn't have made any difference. She would have still written those papers in a haze of jealous rage. We would still be sitting here.

Finally, she broke the silence and said, "Chelsea stopped asking me you know."

"Stopped asking?"

"When Eddie and me would be together again. She stopped just after Christmas and I assume it's because of you." She said. "Now, is there anything else you want or is that everything."

At this moment in time I couldn't be happy about that. I wanted to but I'll wait until later. I stood and smoothed my hands over my skirt. "That's everything. Just sign here." From the case at my side, I pulled out the last sheet.

"What's this?"

"Read it if you want, it's just a disclosure agreement. I won't go to the press or to court with any of this if you leave my career the hell alone. My lawyer isn't present and neither is yours. Whether you want them here, fine. I can wait, but trust me when I say my father and his partners have battled both sides of this argument and there is no way for you to win this."

Her eyes scanned over it twice. There was no flaw, nothing wrong with it, she could read it all she wanted. But it was exactly what I'd said it was. Her quick flourish of a signature filled the line at the bottom of the page beside my own. I ripped the copy from beneath the original - the one that copies whatever is written on top of the original - and placed it on her desk.

"It's been a pleasure Debbie Solomon." I said sliding the copy her way. "However, I couldn't let you get away with this completely. You're going to be suspended or on sabbatical which is what you'll tell the press. Your board isn't pleased about what you've done."

Her eyes widened. "You told them what-"

"You should be glad they're not firing you. I had to beg them not to." I grinned. "Be happy it's paid. You can keep those. I have plenty more. Also, just a side note, the journalist you submitted your piece to from Art In America promised to write a three page article on anything I want. I chose my gallery opening."

And as if I'd dropped the microphone on stage after a sick ass rap, I walked out of her office taking her stunned expression along with me. I won. Not her.

**

"Perfect, thank you!" I said to - hopefully, if tonight goes well - my new employees. There were only three for now, all of them were students from mine and Mack's classes. Most of them needed experience and what better than an internship at an independent gallery?

Mack looked around the transformed space, the stars in her eyes reflecting the stars in my own. Mackenzie was a hard soul to crack, I knew that from the first day I met her. And seeing the glassy look in her eye made me happier than ever. She was the woman that hired me almost fresh out of college. The one that got me where I was today.

"I'm proud of you, Liv." She said quietly, walking toward my biggest and my favourite painting in the room. The one I was going to uncover later tonight. It was the main painting within the series. The only one with me in it. "And this... it's so beautiful. So erotic, so emotive. He'll love it."

"If he comes." I added. I watched as one of the students helped the other to cover it.

"He'll be crazy not to. Mikhail, tell her he'll be crazy not to."

The man himself turned from the other end of the room and smirked. "He'll be crazy not to. And if he doesn't I'll drag him here myself."

"Thank you but knowing you, you're probably not joking." I said.

"I'm not."

"Didn't think so."

Mack smiled at the two of us and took my hand. "So, what time tonight?"

"I'll be here from four setting up but everyone should be starting to arrive after six thirty."

"Are you nervous?"

Was I nervous? I sure as hell was. Tonight was the night I'd be jumping into the pool of art alone. No publicist, just me. And honestly, after what I've been through I felt like tonight was just the start.

**

Everyone I wanted was here. My mom, dad, sister came the earliest and surprisingly they came together. In the same car. Even with Sandra. Alisha traveled down with her husband yesterday just for tonight and I was more than happy to see her.

"You look good." She'd said after embracing me. "Better than last week that's for sure."

I gave her a pat on the back. "Well, I feel good."

Miranda and Jake were here along with her cousin from the wedding and Liam from work. I wasn't the only one that was surprised to see that they'd been dating since that fateful night. Along with my friends, there were a few familiar artists I'd met along the way including Graham Bennett and Mikhail. The editor and journalist I spoke to from Art In America were here. A few dealers I'd contacted from the upper part of Manhattan had graciously accepted my invitation and a few other interested general members of the public probably told by people I'd invited.

All in all, the turnout was perfect. Probably around forty-five to fifty people here. At the far end of the room, where there were sliding doors that opened out into a small space - I'd found it whilst cleaning up the other day - there was my covered paintings surrounded by the perfect lighting and a microphone on top of a square platform beside it.

Now, I was still absolutely terrible at speeches, I wouldn't have said no to Miranda if I was even a little bit good. But tonight, I had to get over that. I had to be brave.

I circled the crowd with a huge smile on my face, taking the compliments from my various array of paintings. I thanked each person with a shake of the hand or a hug, taking the role of the ever courteous hostess and making sure no one's glasses were ever empty. My freshly printed business cards were placed on small tables situated around the room - there was food beside them too so it was hard not to miss something when you're already looking down.

I wanted to be comfortable tonight but I also wanted to be dressed up enough so I didn't look too casual. I was happy with my tan knee length pencil skirt, my black booted heels and my black polo neck jumper. It was a smart casual. My hair was up and away from my face, circled into a nice bun at the back of my head and I had on a diamond necklace my mother had given me for my twenty-first birthday.

By around seven thirty, I started toward the platform. My heart beat a new rhythm in my chest as the intern students gathered everybody's attention to me. I allowed my eyes to scan over the crowd, settling them on my family and then on Miranda and Alisha. It was impossible not to see the love in their eyes. Scanning over everyone as they continued to move toward me, I couldn't find the one pair of eyes I was praying would come tonight. I couldn't dwell on that right now.

As I opened my mouth, I couldn't help but smile when a couple quietly joined the back of the room. Grace and Chace. They sent me a wave and mouthed a, "sorry we're late." I'd invited them a few days ago as well as Phoebe and Jill and their parents. But when Eddie didn't trail in behind the twins I had to just stick to the backup plan I'd recited to myself in the mirror before I left my house this evening: man the fuck up and carry on with the night.

"Hello, hi everyone. Thank you so much for coming tonight." I started, my slightly shaky voice carrying through the studio. "A lot of you have known me longer than your fingers can count and some I've had the pleasure of meeting recently. Nonetheless I'm thankful to everyone that has made it out to my first official gallery opening."

The applause surprised me and I ignored the small blush that swept across my cheeks as it died down. I'd had an entire speech planned. Short and sweet, an introduction to the career I was going to work my butt off for. But... something else came to mind. Something more personal something more so... me.

"I actually had a small speech memorised for this but I don't think it could really express what I'm feeling. Words never could with me. I was told by an artist not that long ago that I painted with my emotions and by another artist that feelings, adoration and passion connote around one another. Both of them were so right that I ignored them." A few chuckles resounded and I winked at Mikhail and Graham. "The thing is, it is the only way I express myself. I'm without a doubt the worst over-thinker you could ever meet and the only way for me to express who I am, is through art. I paint what I feel.

"This gallery is me. Within the corners of these walls, you'll see every inch of me whether it's a sketch of an elderly man sitting aimlessly on a park bench with his dog or a painting of a rosebush. Look deeper and you'll see the pain within the prickly vines of the rosebush or on the man's face, the happy, content ghost of a smile as he feeds his dog a treat or two. This series behind me carries a piece of my heart within every stroke, within every colour. The model within it inspired me to follow my dreams and my heart."

The students uncovered four paintings and two drawings including the largest one. Each as significantly different from the last. I avoided the eye contact of Eddie's family - no, none of the paintings were of him naked apart from his chest so they weren't exactly gazing upon their family member's naked bod. I wouldn't have invited them otherwise. Looking at one of my favourites, the only of him asleep apart from the main piece, it was the one I'd started before any of the Debbie nonsense. The sheet covered his lower torso, his leg poking out taking over half of the bed as it always did. One hand splayed lazily over his chest whilst the other lay across the back of where my head was earlier that morning. I'd sketched out the general idea at the foot of the bed; I remembered it like it was yesterday.

And then the largest beside me. I'd found the photograph on my phone a month ago. The best place to sleep was against Eddie. My ear pressed against the steady beat of his heart, my arm across his stomach, skin against skin. Who knows when he took the picture. I was the subject of the canvas, his face wasn't in it. My hair splayed out behind me and across his arm as I slept, his fingers stroking the edges of my jaw. You could barely make out my facial features in it but you knew it was me.

"Each painting is titled Model Behaviour. This very last is the only image of myself I have ever painted. I wanted this series to represent the start of my career, the start of me opening up to you, my audience. Old and new. I've bared my soul and heart out in the walls of this hall and I'm glad I've had the opportunity to share it. Thank you so much."

As the applause once again broke out, bigger than the last, I stepped off the platform. Randy weaved her way through the crowd and gave me the biggest hug to date. I didn't want to cry in front of everyone but that's the way it was headed if people kept hugging me. Any offer on any painting was submitted within two boxes on each side of the room and already I noticed a few sly submissions being posted when they thought nobody was looking.

Making my way through the congratulating crowd, I made my way toward the Marshall's and once again found myself in a sea of hugs.

"I'm so glad you came," I smiled at each of them, Eddie's mom holding me a bit longer than the rest. "It means the world to me."

"We're happy you invited us." Jill said. "I wouldn't have thought so even after everything."

Although I waved it away and shrugged like it really didn't mean anything, I still had to contain that little inkling of disappointment to stop it from consuming me. "You're all my friends, I couldn't have not invited you. I have to check on a few things, I'll be back."

Narrowly avoiding my family's questioning gaze I walked out of the double doors of my gallery into the eerily silent hall. Take a deep breath Liv. I was more than overwhelmed by tonight - in a good way sure. Walking down the hall I noticed one of the doors open. Stepping into the quiet, empty room, I took a few minutes to myself to sort of catch up with reality.

He didn't come. And I really thought he would. Maybe I really had fucked everything up. At this point, all I wished was to make things right with him, even if it was just to see him for a cup of coffee and apologise for what an ass I was. Over a bit more time, maybe I could finally do that. Move on, even it would probably rip me to shreds at first.

I inhaled and exhaled a breath. I couldn't say I wasn't happy right now though could I? Tonight was a success, people came that was the first sign of success, and I had my family here to support me. What more could I ask for?

When I turned I froze at the body standing by the door. Well, what do you know? He did come.

How long had it been since I'd seen him? Three weeks? Almost a month? It felt like years. Eddie didn't look any different than the day he brought me here. I let my eyes run over his pale blue shirt, and black jeans before settling back onto his face. He stepped in, glancing at the empty walls with a funny look in his eyes, one I couldn't interpret.

And his first words to me were, "What a turn out."

I had to laugh because hell I was nervous and truthfully I probably would have laughed even if I wasn't in this state.

"Yeah, I hope you realise that my gallery is next door and I'm not a complete and total failure."

"I know," He said walking slowly toward me. "I was in there. Watching and listening to you talk."

I opened my mouth to spurt out anything and everything but he surprised me by taking my face within his palms and brushing the pads of his thumbs against my lips. I forced myself to be quiet and waited.

"I am so sorry, Olivia."

I narrowed my eyes. "What?"

"Sh, sh. I didn't know what Debbie did to you until last week, please believe me. Chase told me he saw you and you said something about an article. Then I went down to Salon 94 only to hear that some ass wipe gave them some bull statement about you. I put two and two together and figured she had something to do with it and then I got your voicemail about it."

"Wait a minute-"

"I should have just come to you like I wanted instead of sending that stupid letter. I have been a wreck waiting for the perfect moment to see you; I was an idiot to walk away. I knew you weren't ready, I kept saying I knew you, I kept thinking that- that I knew every thought you had whenever you tugged on that lip of yours."

Silently, he ran the back of his hand against my cheek.

"We hurt each other," He said. "And I just hope you can forg-"

"Eddie, shut up." I interrupted. "For one thing, I sorted out all the lies Debbie told, you don't even have to worry even little bit about that. And second, you don't get to say you're sorry, this was for me to rectify not you. I was an idiot, I'm the one that should be sorry here. I said that everything was too much for me but really it wasn't enough. Dammit Eddie what I'm trying to say is that I fell in love with you and me being me I wanted to nip it right in the bud when I saw an opportunity."

I melted when he pressed a soft kiss upon my lips. This, this, was what I missed. The intimacy, the affection, his lips. Breaking the kiss I lay my palms against his chest and inhaled the familiar scent that was Eddie Marshall. But then he broke the spell completely when he said, "I knew you loved me."

"Are you kidding me-"

"If you didn't tell me you loved me I would have guessed from the paintings and everything you said in that room anyway, sweetheart." He smirked running his fingers along my neck. "Equally, can we agree to both be sorry?"

"No, you don't need to be sorry for anything."

"Fine. Can I be a little sorry?" He mumbled as he lowered his lips to my neck. "Can I be sorry, here?"

I paused. "Hm..."

"Here?"

"Don't tease me here, Eddie. I still have a whole room full of people to entertain."

"You can entertain them once I've shown you how much I love you too."

There. There were the words. Hearing them made everything ten times clearer Maybe I loved him more than I thought I did, maybe I'd love him more and more as each day passes. Actually... I know I'll love him more and more as each day passes. "You love me?"

"I'm not sure, I have to show you first then you can tell me if I do. One question though,"

"You can ask me anything you want."

"Do I really inspire you, Olivia?"

Running my fingers over the contours of his face, something I'd done so many times in the past, each ridge and edge illustrated on the canvases in the other room. "You inspire me to do so many things, yes. But I also inspire myself. I'm not all that reliant on you, Edward Marshall."

"You wouldn't be you if you were."

_____________________________________________

Guys.... To be honest I think all that's left of this story is an epilogue! I was thinking to do another chapter but truly... what more is there but the end? TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK.