Not really, but sometimes she didn’t know half the things the other woman said. “Yeah, sure.”
“Anyway, this guy knows everyone who’s anyone in LA. We were having dinner at the Beverly Hills Hotel and we run into these friends of his. We invite them to hang out with us, and I’m talking about what I do, and one of these guys asks me if I know any up-and-coming artists, and I say, ‘sure I do,’ and I whip out my phone and show him your paintings. And guess what?”
Frankly, she had only been half listening to what Barbara was saying because she kept one eye on her father and Cross in the living room. But wanting to get on with her night, she answered, “What, Barbara?”
“He wants to exhibit your paintings. At the Magnussen Gallery in Malibu!”
She sat straight up. “E-exhibit them? Wait, hold on.” Clutching the phone with both hands, she made a dash for her studio but stopped by the living area. “Sorry, I have to take this,” she said apologetically to the two men. “This might be a while. Glasses are in the open cupboard.” She rushed into her studio and closed the door behind her.
“Is this a bad time, doll?” Barbara asked.
“No, no.” She sat down at the small desk by the window. “So, this guy really wants to do a show of my paintings?”
“Oh, yeah. He was blown away,” Barbara exclaimed. “As in, blown. A. Way.”
Her heart thumped in her chest. Someone liked her work! And she was going to have her own show. “Barbara … this is fantastic. I don’t know what to say.”
“Doll, I haven’t told you the best part.”
“There’s more?” She slumped back on her chair and kicked off her heels.
“Oh, yeah. Get ready for this.” Barbara paused for dramatic effect. “He thinks he can sell your paintings to his best clients. You’ll never guess how much he estimated. No wait, lemme tell you …”
When she heard the figure, Sabrina thought she would have a heart attack. “R-r-really? That much?”
“This is it, doll, this is it! Now, I need you to take down a couple things for me, okay?”
She scrambled for a pencil and her notepad. “Okay, go ahead.”
Barbara gave her a few more details, so she scrawled them down. Her hand was still shaking when she put the phone down on her desk. This is it. Her big break. And she couldn’t wait to tell her father and Cross the good news. But she didn’t want to get too excited. Nothing was set in stone. So, she took a few, deep calming breaths and tiptoed toward the living room.
“… and I’ve never met a man who didn’t have a price. Name it.”
She stopped short. Was her father conducting business over the phone?
“Sir.” Cross’s voice sounded strained. “Please reconsider. I don’t want Sabrina to be hurt by this.”
Her stomach flip-flipped. What was going on?
“She’ll only be hurt if you continue to pursue her.” That was definitely her father’s voice. “Now, I have my checkbook here, my pen’s ready to sign. Name. Your. Price.”
“No.”
“I have to hand it to you, Jonasson, you’re a hard negotiator. Not nearly as easy as the others.”
Others?
Jonathan snorted. “You’re shocked. Yes, I paid off every man who came close to my daughter. Don’t you give me that look,” he said in a warning tone.
A pain stabbed right through her chest, and it felt like her heart was breaking into a million pieces. She’d never heard her father speak this way to anyone. Dad …
“Someday, when you have children of your own, you’ll understand. Now, give me a number. There’s no number too big. If you tell me now, you can walk out of here a rich man. But you have to leave now.”
“Stop!” It was like an outside force was driving her forward, and she couldn’t stop it. “You … you …” She was shaking so hard she couldn’t articulate any words.
Jonathan had gone pale. “Sabrina. Sweetheart.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t jump to any conclusions. Let me explain.”
She marched toward him and yanked the pen and checkbook out if his hands. “Don’t jump to any conclusions? And what conclusions could those be?” Tears burned her throat. “I can’t believe you would do this!” The realization that every man in her life had been bought off by her father suddenly hit her. “How could you?”
“Sabrina!” Jonathan pleaded, his hands reaching out to her. “It was for your own good. For your own protection.”
“Why then? Why would you do this?”
“Because … because … I couldn’t let any of them get too close.” Jonathan got on his knees. “Please, Sabrina. Trust me. This was for the best.”
Bile was rising in her throat. “Go to hell!” she screamed, and when he reached out to her, she pushed his hands away, her arms stretching out to keep him as far away as possible. “Don’t touch me! I hate you, and I never want to see you again.”
Jonathan wouldn’t stop and kept advancing. “Sabrina—”
“I said don’t touch me!”
It was like the atmosphere was lit up with electricity. The air crackled with it, making the hairs on her arms and neck stand on end. She heard Cross shout ‘no!’ then tackle Jonathan before they both disappeared into thin air. She screamed as her vision turned dark, like someone had turned out the lights in her apartment. There was no illumination anywhere, not even through the large windows facing the street.
The ringing in her ears made her head ache, and she crumpled to the floor, hands covering her head. How long she’d been curled up into a ball, she didn’t know, but when the ringing stopped, her body relaxed. The light returned as she slowly opened her eyes.
“Dad?” she croaked. “Cross?”
Carefully, she got to her feet, rubbing her eyes. There was a lingering throbbing in her temples. “Hello?”
“Sabrina.”
She whirled around. Cross
