Destined For Them (Story 3)✔

~11~

~Caroline~

I never, ever, thought I would find myself walking back into Clark Turner's painting class. I'd given it some thought and came up with a solution where he was concerned; warn him stay the hell away from me and if he didn't, I would just have to threaten him with Sol. Or Lenny Baker for that matter. Whatever, the specifics wouldn't be relevant to him. I just needed him to back off. There were already enough things going on that I had to worry about, I didn't need him on that list. What if this got out of hand? What if it had been Sol who had opened up the box from Penelope's boutique? 

Sol definitely didn't have time to play Turner's little game,considering. Just what was going on now between him and Lenny and the whole Foster's situation? Snooping in the study this morning had led me nowhere and I figured Sol wouldn't make the mistake leaving important information under the roof again. It was tragic, really. Wasn't I capable of being a normal wife who didn't try to nose my way into my husbands affairs every chance I got? Obviously not. 

Clark's little 'classroom' hadn't changed much since my first time going there several years before. There was a desk, at least thirty easels in the space for his students and spilled paint decorated the concrete floor. He was standing at the front, talking when the door slammed shut behind me and every pair of eyes turned on my late arrival. Unfortunately, I wasn't here as a student. 

The surprise was obvious of his face when our eyes locked from across the space; lips turned up in that familiar, confident and charming smile. I wasn't impressed. "Caroline? What a surprise. Have you come to join us? You can find a spot-" 

"Cut the shit, Clark. I don't give a damn about painting." Thanks to him. More than a couple pairs of eyebrows lifted at my unexpected outburst. Wonder how many people would return if they found out their painting instructor was a perverted creep? But I wasn't gonna be that petty...not yet anyway. His smile faltered a bit but he managed to keep his mask on. I'd struck a nerve. Good. "Do you want to talk right here? In front of all your students?" I asked, taking a turn to smile. I didn't wait for an answer and went back out the door, knowing he would follow. He had reasons to-ones that I wasn't aware of nor had any desire to know of. 

I was sure making me wait was part of this little tactic of his and it pissed me off. I was close to going back in there when he finally strode out. "Can I help you?" He asked when he closed in on me and crossed his arms. 

I returned his unpretentious stare with a glare. "Can I help you? Seriously? Maybe you should help yourself and back off, Clark." 

"I do not know what you mean." His face feigned surprise and all I wanted to do was knock that dazed look off of it. If I wasn't so generous, I would have just told Sol to deal with this...and he would knock that look off his face. 

"You sent me lingerie...lingerie that I picked out because I thought I was helping you. I don't know about you but I classify that as creepy and perverted." 

"What can I say, pick up lines aren't really my thing." The way his mouth turned up into a smile convinced me he was clinically ill. My skin started to burn, from my neck to my ears and up into my scalp. Chill, Caroline, before you catch another assault charge, I had to tell myself. How wonderful it had been to slap the hell out of Olivia Watson. I'm sure slapping Clark Turner would make me feel a whole lot better and be worth it. 

I stepped closer to him, would have been able to touch his nose with mine if he wasn't so tall, "Leave me alone. Cut this shit out or I'll get my husband involved." I spaced the words out, like I did with my four year old daughter when chastising her. Because that's how Clark deserved to be treated...like a child. My husband wouldn't be so nice though.