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It was a week or so after Hunter revealed his interest continuing to see me, that I arrived at work ready to start the finishing touches on the artwork for the European campaign. An envelope was on my desk with my name on it, and curious, I opened it. I pulled out the magazine that interviewed me for a profile.

Giddiness bubbled up inside me. I knew for sure that this article would not just offset the salacious gossip that had come out a few weeks ago, but that it would completely put to rest the idea that the only reason I had a showing at the gallery was because I was banging Hunter. It would prove that I was a legitimate artist.

I searched the table of contents for my profile. Page sixty seven. I fanned the magazine until I came to the right page and then I laid it out flat on my desk reading the title Natalie Nichols Art Career Built on a Strong Foundation.

Eagerly I began to read, anticipating how she would've woven my words and art into the article. The first paragraph gave me pause. While it was complementary to my work, there was an underlying tone that suggested that I wasn't quite up to par in terms of being a viable artist.

As I read on it got worse and worse. The article became a cautionary tale about the influence of big money on art and suggested that my success was only because of Hunter. And like the gossip from several weeks ago, it hinted that the showing and the exposure of my art was more about Hunter indulging me than him discovering a new talent. The article even talked about some of the other artists that he'd helped launch that were better than me, and therefore implied that he made the decision to showcase my work simply because he and I were sleeping together.

Unable to read anymore, I looked at the pictures, hoping there would be examples of my work to prove that the writer was wrong, but most of the photographs were of me leaving or entering a hotel with Hunter. The only exception was the sketch that I had drawn of Hunter that had been in my studio the day the interviewer had come over. Instead of highlighting my skill, the sketch seemed to prove the interviewer's theory that all this was just Hunter indulging me and me using Hunter to get ahead.

I couldn't decide whether I wanted to scream or cry. I wanted to do both, but neither of them could escape. I just sat in numbness as I felt my career drift away from me.

Before I could do anything, my door burst open and Hunter flew when. His eyes were dark and filled with hatred. He tossed the magazine on my desk. "What the hell is this?"

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that he'd be angry. I was angry too. And I couldn’t be surprised that again he only thought about how this would impact him. What surprised me was that all that heat and anger was directed at me, like I had done this. Like this was my fault.

"I don't know what this is. This isn't the interview that I gave."

"Don't bullshit me, Natalie. Is this what you've been hoping for the whole time? You’ve been using me to further your career and to get access to the Strong money and name? To make a fool of me?"

In some ways I was glad that he was on the attack because it fueled my anger, and pushed my despair away. There would be time for me to weep over all this later. I wasn't going to do it here at work, and I certainly wasn't going to do it in front of Hunter Strong.

I stood from behind my desk and glared back at him. "The world doesn't revolve around you Hunter Strong. And you're an idiot if you think for a minute that I would give this type of interview. It completely dismisses my artwork and makes me look like a gold digger."

He put his hands on his hips, his intense eyes staring at me. "If the shoe fits, honey."

I wasn't a violent woman, but in that moment, I would've loved to have slapped Hunter. Not just because his words were so offensive, but because they hurt me so deeply. I could feel the tears coming to my eyes.

"You're a big baby. Do you really think this article is going to hurt you? If you are so against

having people think that you're a womanizing Lothario, maybe you should stop being a womanizing Lothario. Everyone knows you use your club as a way to prowl for women. Everybody knows that you are the king of the one-night stand. If you're looking foolish, it’s your own doing, not mine."

I didn't want to talk to him anymore. I didn't want to work anymore. I didn't want to do anything anymore. I grabbed my purse and walked past him toward the door. "I quit."

When I arrived home, I looked over at my art studio and for the first time in my life I didn't feel inspired to create. In fact, there was a part of me that wanted to have a temper tantrum and throw it all on the floor and stomp on it to get rid of it all. From now on if I ever felt the need to create again, it would just be for myself or maybe for Kellie. She had asked me for art for the new baby. But right now, I couldn't even bring myself to be inspired to work on that. There were still several months before the baby was due, and perhaps by then the desire to paint or create would come back again. Right now, the only thing I could do was go to bed.

I don't know how long I lay there before there was a knock on my door, I bolted out of bed and ran to the door, throwing it open, but was disappointed when Hunter wasn't standing on the other side, ready to grovel and take it all back. Instead, Kellie stood there and by the look on her face, I knew that she had read the article.

"Natalie." She stepped inside and wrapped her arms around me. One of the nice things about being close to my older sister was that she understood things without my having to tell her.

She held me for a long while and then finally pulled back putting her hands on both my shoulders giving me a gentle shake. "I know this feels like the end of the world now, but I promise you Natalie, you're going to overcome this. People will see that you are a talented artist. You can't let this stop you."

I looked down. "I don't even want to paint anymore."

She gave me another shake. "That's just all this craziness weighing on you. It'll come back you'll see." She guided me into the apartment and set me on the couch. "Can I get you some tea or something?"

"I guess tea would be nice."

Kellie went into the kitchen and I could hear her rummaging around in the cupboards. I hadn’t moved anything since she had married Ryan, so I knew she would find everything. I wondered how she was going to take it when I told her I'd quit the job she did so desperately wanted me to take.

She came back a few minutes later, handing me the tea and then sitting on the other end of the couch with her own tea, looking over at me with sympathetic eyes. "So, this thing with Hunter, —"

"It's done over. For real this time. Oh, and you should probably know that I quit too."

Kellie looked down at her tea mug swirling the teabag around. Then she looked up. "What was going on with you and Hunter?"

It was my turn to look away. "I guess it was like you and Ryan. Just the friends with benefits type of thing. Although maybe not friends. We just have this wild attraction that we thought we could get rid of, but we couldn't."


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