21
Emily
I tried to hold in tears, but when Gabriel saw me coming back into the house, I kind of let it all out. He was so sweet and caring, listening to me go on and on about Louis and the size of his damn ego. I told him about the disaster that was Toby and me. I let it all out, and if I’m honest, I feel pretty good after our chat. It felt so cathartic to let go of everything that’s Toby, but it may also have been the dark chocolate mousse that Gabriel made for me—chocolatey goodness soothes the soul.
Now I’m holed up in my room working. I posted the photograph of Louis from this morning, half-naked, covered in paint with the most delicious outline in his gray pants. Ordinarily, I probably would have cropped the picture to disguise his privates, but he’s pissed me off, and I don’t care.
Daniel emailed the details of the gala he wants me to attend with Louis in Monaco. If my friends heard me moaning about attending a black-tie event in Monaco, they would probably unfriend me.
Louis’ words really cut me deep this morning, more than they should have. Maybe I did for a brief moment think that there was a small chance I could be his muse. I mean, one day out in the French countryside, and I was able to get him to use color again.
Geez, I am full of myself. Actually, thinking that little old me could be the catalyst for the genius that is Louis Marchant’s comeback.
I fall back onto my bed and stare at the ceiling. Maybe I’m trying too hard, trying to prove that I’m perfect for this job when, in reality, I was probably the only person who applied for the position and definitely the only one who would put up with the boss’ shit.
Maybe I need to do my job, let him sort out his messed-up relationship with women, and that’s it. Stop trying to be his friend and definitely stop thinking about getting into his pants. This summer is supposed to help me find myself, not end up in another disastrous relationship with a man who cares about only himself.
Yes, that’s exactly it. I’m going to concentrate on being the best assistant he has ever had and nothing more. No flirting. No more trying to fix the broken artist. Just doing my job to the best of my ability. The cell beside me starts chirping wildly, so I pick it up.
Oh shit! There are thousands of comments on his page. Everyone is salivating over what’s in his pants.
Shit, shit, shit! I think that post has just gone viral.
The phone rings, and I see it’s Daniel.
“Hello,” I answer cautiously.
“You’re brilliant,” Daniel praises.
“Thank you.”
“Do you have any idea how many magazines have contacted me in the past five minutes wanting to interview Louis? Don’t answer that because it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that photo you posted has just put Louis Marchant back in the limelight with a bang. You, Emily Chapman, are a superstar. I have to go… my phone’s going crazy. Keep up the good work.” And with those last few words, he’s gone.
A smile falls across my lips, and I mentally high-five myself.
See, best assistant ever.
“What the hell have you done?” Louis’ voice echoes through his empty home.
Apparently, Louis had a lobotomy today and has let all his staff off early, giving everyone an extra-long weekend.
Gabriel was so excited because he’s finally going to ask out the butcher’s daughter, the one he’s been admiring since I arrived. Ah, young love, it’s filled with such enthusiasm. I hope things work out for him because Gabriel’s pretty awesome.
I can hear Louis stomping up the stairs. Here we go! He’s obviously seen the photograph. I try and stay calm because he sounds more than a little angry. He pushes open my door without even knocking.
“Excuse you.” I jump out of my bed. “How dare you barge into my room.”
Louis blinks a couple of times as if he’s so upset that it never occurred to him to knock. “This is my house.” A flimsy excuse at best!
“And this is my room.” I wave my hands around and continue, “If you aren’t going to respect that, then I’ll have to find somewhere else to live.”
I’ve stunned him. He lets out a couple of hard exhales, then runs his fingers through his hair, the frustration radiates from him.
“Everyone is talking about it.” Louis starts to pace. “People have made memes and shared the image a couple of million times.” I’m trying not to laugh because his over-dramatization is something to watch. “Some sex toy manufacturer wants to make a dildo out of my dick.” His eyes are wide in shock, and I simply can’t hold my laugh even though I bite my lips together. “You think this is funny?” Once the giggles start, I can’t stop them. “Oh my God…” He throws his hands up in the air very theatrically, so much so, it’s almost an Academy Award-winning performance.
“Daniel said it’s created great interest in you.”
“In my dick, not my art.”
“At least they are talking about you, and that’s a good thing.” I try to put a positive spin on the situation.
“Why did you do it?”
“Because it’s my job.”
“Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. It’s-not-the-only-big-thing.” Those blue eyes flare at the use of his words. “I’m sorry that women and men around the world now know who you are. Did you know your Instagram account followers have gone up by two hundred thousand, and your Facebook account around the same? Did you also know that Daniel has had numerous press agencies calling wanting interviews with you? Oh, and your website has had a surge as well, so much so we have had to purchase more bandwidth. Not to mention five paintings have been sold, and not the ones from when you were at your peak days. No, it’s
