Fighter

Twenty nine

Scarlett POV

Fourteenth day post-Y/N Y/L/N and I'm no better than I was two weeks ago. I actually think I'm worse. I find myself thinking about her all the time. In the first week she was tireless in trying to win me back. But her daily calls and deliveries have decreased. And now I find myself wondering if I missed the opportunity to change my mind when I don't know anything about her all day. By the time I was done, I was so angry that she hadn't been honest with me about her interests at Johansson's that I couldn't see past the cloud of fury that enveloped me.

But in these two long weeks I replayed our time together several times in my head. Like a scratched record, I see her eyes as she hovers over me. I could swear they were full of real emotions. True feelings. Something so profoundly and intensely genuine that it could not be false. Or maybe I'm projecting my own feelings onto what I thought I saw in her. Is it possible that everything she said is true? That when she realized how she felt about me, she didn't want to interfere with Robert's and my decision about the deal when it came time to decide whether or not to accept the investor's proposal? Is it possible that the timing really was a coincidence and that the bank's decision to withdraw our credit had nothing to do with her?

Even if I forgave her, a relationship that starts with lies is doomed to fail. My father taught me that from the day i was born. Trust was everything to him. Damn, he didn't even believe in contracts. Everything was done on the basis of trust and handshake.

At the same time things seem to be a little more hopeful at work. I appealed City Bank's decision to close our line of credit and was shocked that they actually reconsidered. The fact that they caved made me question whether Y/N was actually involved in the decision to withdraw the credit. I just don't know what to believe anymore.

Anyway, it made me realize that we need to take a look at all our expenses. Our cash flow has only dried up, although we're making more money now from higher enrollment than ever before. We are never overly dependent on the bank. It's time to pull the strings and find out where we can cut costs.

After work Chris came to meet me and we do another ice cream movie session. It's the third time this week. He always suggests a film pretending to urgently see a movie but I know it's to make sure I'm okay. And I really don't want to be alone, although my ass is going to double in size if I can't find a way to shake off all this melancholy that has taken hold of me.

He dispenses an entire one-liter jar of ice cream into two generously filled cups and measures the sizes.

- Here, take this one. Has less.

- What if I want what has more? - I pout teasing.

- I'm celebrating so I get the biggest one. Besides, I gave you the biggest one the last five times. You better improve otherwise it will appear that your stepfather is an olympic gold medalist in track and field like one of the Kardashians.- he laughs.

I hit him playfully.

- Hey, your ass is... wait what are you celebrating? - I've been so selfish with my sadness that for a moment I panic, thinking I may have forgotten his birthday. Luckily it's three weeks away.

- I received payment for my sales and the commission for my first exhibition at the gallery. - He pulls a white envelope out of his pocket and fans his face with it displaying it proudly.

- My goodness! How many did you sell? - I ask excitedly. It's the first thing that's really excited me in the last few weeks.

- All but one! - Chris exclaims, clearly ecstatic with the result.

My eyes widen. He would be excited to sell one. But he had thirty-one paintings on display. I'm not surprised he's extremely talented.

My expression fades.

- Oh my god I'm so sorry. I was the only one that wasn't sold, wasn't I?

- Not! Kane's painting is not sold.

- Kane is the nineteen-year-old boy whose collarbones stick out under the skin?

- Yes!

- It didn't sell because he looks like a skeleton and is scary.

He shrugs off smiling.

- I do not care. I'll keep this one, I think it's hot.

- You think? - I wrinkle my nose.

- Sit down.- He orders.- I need to tell you something.

- What's it?

- Your painting was sold at maximum value.

- Seriously?

- Yes.- He hesitates but continues.- You know that sales are made through anonymous auctions. Each has a reserve value, and when that value is reached the painting goes to the highest bidder.

- Yes....

- Your reserve value was five hundred dollars. But the buyer paid more.

- How much more?

- A lot more.

- And...?

- The winning bid was twenty thousand dollars.

- Twenty thousand dollars? - I start to breathe with difficulty. - This is wonderful Chris! I am very happy for you! - I stop for a moment. - Although it's a little weird to think that my painting might be hanging in some rich serial killer's living room.

- It is not.

- and how do you know?

- Because the winning buyer was Y/N Y/L/N.

======================

Luckily there is a week of accumulated work to be done in the two days before the MMA Open, otherwise the tremendous nostalgia I feel when thinking about Y/N would make me sulk somewhere out there.

- I spoke with our sales representative. They have an open space on channel seven and can give it to us at the last minute if we have a champion at the MMA Open. Capitalizing on the publicity of a heavyweight champion increases membership. This can help in the inflow of cash flow. - Robert informs me as he walks out the front door carrying boxes that we need to ship to Las Vegas for the event.

- Great idea Robert. Now we just need to win the fights in the Open.

- I'll take care of that for you.- Colin's voice surprises me but it's the arm he wraps around my waist that makes me stop abruptly.

- Colin! - I rebuke you.

- What? Do you think i won't win?

- That's not what I meant.- I remove his fingers from my waist and cast an icy look in his direction.

- You can't still be upset with me for what happened. I thought we were over it.- He forces the hand I'd just removed back to my waist and pulls me to him.

- Let me go Colin.

He ignores me and continues.

- You made me very angry by allowing that freak to touch you.

- You're not listening to me Colin. Let go of me!

He leans down and whispers in my ear.

- You'll beg me to stick my dick in you when I win.

Revolt bubbles through my veins.

- Wait sitting down.- I move away from his arm.- Finish what you have to do with Robert and go back to the branch on 59th Street. I don't want you here anymore.

I walk away from him.