"I've got to start my project if I'm to make the deadline."

"Can I go with you… and watch?"

"It's going to be boring. I mean, I'll be at it all day long."

"It's okay, I'll check my email and play online."

I hurried to my suitcase and pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a sweater. Then I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, hair, and was ready to go with my laptop as Luke grabbed his backpack full of pencils and paintbrushes.

Before we left, his phone vibrated on the small table. He walked over, picked it up, then narrowed his eyes as he walked toward me.

"It's for you," he said, as we walked out the door.

"Hello?" I was just a little confused as to who would be calling and why.

"Oh, so you're going to speak with me? What the fuck, Miss Downs? You've refused to answer my calls and you've failed to tell me where you were going. Running away with my brother is un-fucking-acceptable."

I tried to squeeze in a word, but Finnley had nothing but rage in his voice. The anger behind his tone pissed me off.

"You acted like a woman-child leaving. You can be so… ridiculous, and predictably unpredictable."

I tried to cut in again.

"Let. Me. Speak," he said between gritted teeth. "That's the second time you've left me Miss Downs. I won't beg you to stop again, so next time you bugger off, make sure it's the last."

I scoffed. "Don't threaten me."

"I'm not fucking threatening you, Miss Downs. I will neither chase nor beg you, ever again."

"I don't expect you to and oh, I guess we're back to formalities then?"

"You can bet your ass we are, Miss Downs. Especially after your little stunt."

"Stunt? Stunt?"

"Have you fucked my brother yet?"

I yelled as I followed behind Luke down the street. People stared at me as they scurried past. I lowered my voice but made sure to stress every syllable that came out of my mouth. "Are you fucking kidding me? You're an enormous asshole."

"Asshole, bastard, dickhead. Find better words, Miss Downs, those are old hat and overly used."

I grumbled at him, and he hung up the phone. He hung the fucking phone up on me? Ugggggggggh!

As soon as I caught up to Luke, I shoved the phone back in his hand and tried to walk past him. I needed to get my pent up aggression out somehow.

"I assume it went well."

I stopped walking and turned on him. "And you're an asshole for handing me the phone without a damn warning."

"Don't crucify the messenger," he said nonchalantly.

"How long has he known I was with you?"

Luke checked his watch, unamused, and walked past me.

"Did you expect me not to tell him? Finn was worried. I couldn't fly you to Paris and not tell your boyfriend."

"He is not my boyfriend."

"If he were seeing other people, would you be pissed? Do you fuck him when he wants? Does he fuck you when you want? Buy you nice things? Whisper sweet nothings in your ear?"

He waited for an answer. I didn't have one.

"That's what I thought," he said. Luke never raised his voice, got upset, or anything. He was so well controlled while I boiled completely over with anger.

"Funny how you've both inquired about who I'm fucking. He thinks I'm fucking you, and you think I'm fucking him. Who gives a shit? This is not fair."

"What's not fair? The fact that you heard the truth and don't want to accept it, or that I'm right? And by the way, I know you're fucking him. I've never questioned that."

"You are just as impossible as him. Do you know that?"

He laughed at me and kept walking. I wanted to scream and yell out my frustration and pent up aggression. Fucking fuck!

Part of me wanted to find a little Internet café and set up shop there, but regardless of how pissed I was, I genuinely wanted to watch Luke work.

Silent fucking treatment. They would both get it from here on out.

Luke unlocked the door to the studio and waited for me to catch up. When I entered, I sighed loudly, and he mocked me.

"Don't be upset with me. It was the right thing to do."

I glared at him then plopped onto the couch in the studio hallway. Luke whistled for me to follow.

"I've got the back workspace. Come with?"

We walked down a hall with painted cement floors and tall ceilings. A draft swept through and I shivered as he opened the door at the end. Canvas, paint, brushes, a drafting table, and easels lined the walls. I looked over at him and a smile crept across his face. He assessed his supplies, ran his fingers across the drafting table, and dropped his bag to the floor.

While he admired his space, I studied the flower pattern on the chaise lounge in the corner. I gasped and Luke turned to look at me. I lay on the couch with my arm draped in the exact pose as Rose in Titanic.

"Maybe you could draw me like one of your French girls?"

He rolled his eyes. How dare him.

I wondered how many artists had slept there as they worked on their next great masterpiece.

"This is perfect," he said more to himself than to me. Luke was in his own little artist world. It was kind of cute.

I sat up on the chaise and pulled out my laptop, then connected to the Wi-Fi. My email was full of forwards, coupons, and emails from Finn. He warned me that I had not replied to his emails, but Elite emails? I thought I had been removed from the distribution list.

Attention Employees:

Please refer to the handbook, section 7.2 for a refresher on the different variations of harassment. This type of behavior will not be tolerated at The Elite. Also, several jobs have been posted over the course of the last few days. Please visit the portal in the intranet to view the current openings. As always, thank you for your continued hard work.

Kind Regards,

Finnley Felton

Founder & CEO of Elite Corporations

I was a little confused as to why I was still receiving company emails.

I pressed reply.

To Whom It May Concern,

Please remove me from all future correspondence. Much appreciated.

Hope this is the reply you wanted.

-J

A read receipt returned. Finnley had opened the message. I wondered what time it was there. Within a minute, a reply email arrived. I considered leaving it unread.

Consider it done, Miss Downs.

Be careful what you wish for...

-F

I wanted to reply.

I sat there staring at the screen while Luke draped cloth on the floor. My heart raced just thinking about lashing out. Harassment, I wondered what had happened. Must have been something monumental enough for Finnley to send out a corporation-wide email.

I opened a web search bar and typed in "Finnley Felton". I occasionally liked to google stalk him. Several pages had recent updates so I clicked on the top link. He attended a benefit for animals a few days ago and on his arm was a tall blond.

Was that? Holy hell, he had brought Natasha Dragtonsa, U.S. champion tennis player, as his fucking date. I quickly skimmed the article and was directed to another link: Finnley Felton's Fan Page. Dis-fuckin-gusting. The online women practically drooled over his body and money. The comments that were made... well, they made me blush, reading all the naughty things they would do to him. As I suspected, the latest Finn gossip was pinned to the top.