That Thing Between Eli & Gwen

“Sorry, he's allergic to jerks.” I pushed Taigi behind me.

I swore, if he could have killed me with his gaze, I would have been six feet under at that very moment. Without another word, he turned back to his apartment, most likely to change his clothes.

When the door closed, I cupped the sides of Taigi’s face. “Good boy!” I grinned, letting us into our new home.

But really, out of all the condos in the city, why the hell had I ended up next to him? Meeting him at the hospital had left a bad taste in my mouth. I’d had this picture of him in my mind, the heartbroken man who was left by the love of his life at the altar. However, with each meeting, my image of him changed. He was so condescending!

How he and Logan are related is beyond me. I headed back down to get more boxes and got on the elevator.

Sadly, before the elevator door closed he came out again, dressed in track pants and a sleeveless sweatshirt. This time he didn’t pay any attention to me, putting his headphones in.

The ride down felt like it took forever, and when the doors opened, I made my escape quickly, heading straight to the back of the U-Haul.

“Can’t a con artist like you afford to hire movers?”

He, for some reason, had stopped and stared at the boxes I had to move. Just go on your damn run already. Wait… “Con artist?”

He nodded as if he didn’t know why I was confused. “I’ve seen your paintings. There's no way in hell they're worth what you sell them for. You are ripping people off, therefore, you are a con artist.”

Speechless, my mouth dropped open.

“That’s attractive,” he said, acting disgusted before adjusting his ear buds and leaving me as he continued down the street.

“ASS!” I yelled, earning me a few glances from passerby.

My phone buzzed.

Answering it, I snapped, “Hello!”

“Is this a bad time?”

I looked at the caller ID before speaking again. “Katrina. Sorry, yeah, no, we can talk. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m actually right by your place. Can we meet up for a second?”

“Okay, my place is still a mess, but you can come over,” I replied, looking for her on the street. However, she didn’t walk up the street. She, like all high-powered lawyers, pulled up right next to me in a sleek town car.

When she stepped out, I saw her short blonde hair was slicked back, and she was dressed in a tailored pantsuit. One word described Katrina Turner: intimidating. Which was why I'd hired her.

“You weren’t kidding,” she replied when I opened the door to the sea of boxes and canvases lining the walls and appliances.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s been a pain moving on such short notice.” In fact, it was pretty much unbelievable. Just a few weeks before, I had been searching for wedding dresses and honeymoon destinations. And now…now, this was my life, in boxes.

“I would have stabbed him,” she said, moving toward the large window overlooking the city.

“I believe you.” I smiled, looking out as well.

She handed me a file. “I submitted this just an hour ago. If he doesn’t let you out of the contract, we can always make noise.”

She'd never even asked me if I wanted to end my contract with Class and Rebel magazines. After word had spread, she had drawn up this proposal. I hadn’t even known he was back at work; I hadn’t dared show my face anywhere near there. Everything was happening too fast, and no matter how hard I tried to stand up, I felt like I was getting beaten into the ground.

“Basically, you would agree to never speak of the incident, and in exchange, they will double your severance. I spoke to your agent; apparently you have more than a dozen offers, not to mention she said you wanted to open a new gallery. No longer being contracted frees up your schedule greatly. You are the winner in all of this.”

If I’m the winner, then why do I still feel still like shit? “Let me know what their reply is,” I whispered, handing back the file.

“Okay. I’ll let myself out. And Gwen.” She stopped at the door. “I know it’s still too soon to say this, but I know you are much better off without him.”

When I was alone again, I glanced back at the window. As I began to tremble, I could feel my body temperature rising. My eyes burned from the tears I fought back.