Sealed With a Kiss

Twenty Two

A/N: Before you all get started, here's a bitchin announcement: STEALING THE GROOM HAS REACHED 1M READS!!!!!! Guys, I'm freaking the fudge out. This is the coolest thing to ever happen, I am so ecstatic. Okay, sorry. Please proceed.

XXII: Behind Door No.2

IT'S BEEN TWO DAYS. Two whole days I've been able to dodge Cole with excuses. In the meantime, I've repainted the flat, ordered in new furniture, and transformed it into my own private paradise. The living room was one big office space, complete with a lounging area and a big white desk with a brand new computer to match. I'd bought a new bed with its corresponding pieces, because at this rate who knows if I'll have to sleep in my secret place to hide from confronting Cole about Gemma.

The only person who knows about my cave and my plans to officially open my own gallery is Scott. He Skyped me as I was taking a break from decorating the flat and we'd spent hours talking.

I was currently sitting at my desk, a blank journal in front of me taking notes as I spoke to a real estate agent on the phone. He said he had a few places lined up for me to check out, claiming that they were perfect locations for an art gallery. He was going off about price ranges when the buzzer was heard. I quickly excused myself and hung up to open the door.

A delivery man stood outside with a package. Taking it inside, I was shocked to see a label from California. My phone rang, and after seeing it was Scott, I answered.

"Hey you," I said cradling the phone between my cheek and shoulder.

"Did you get it? The online tracker says it should have gotten there by now."

I laughed, "I just received it."

"Wait, hang up. Call me once you've opened it." I opened my mouth to question him but he beat me to it, "Just do it."

"Fine. I'm hanging up now." I smiled to myself as the line went dead and I was left alone on the floor staring at a huge package.

I got a box cutter from the kitchen and sat cross legged again to rip the package open. I gasped when I saw it. There, enveloped in bubble wrap and paper was a frameless canvas. A priceless piece, my favorite of Picasso's Blue collection, lay before me with a note paper-clipped to the side.

Beauty like this one deserves to be seen and admired. I know you'll do well with it.
-S

I am in utter awe, completely stunned silent. Not only had he gifted to me a multi million dollar painting, but he had remembered what I'd said about private collections. I felt so incredibly floored.

I called him back then, and I spent an hour trying to convince him that I couldn't possibly accept such a gift, to no avail. I spent the night there, simply starring at the masterpiece before me, reliving the story of the woman in the painting.

MY PHONE AGAINST MY CHEEK BUZZED, waking me from my slumber. It was a call from Felicity.

"About time you picked up! I was about to file a missing person's report!"

I groaned and sat up, "Sorry."

"Where are you? And don't give me a bullshit excuse because I called Ingrid and she said you've been gone all night."

I sighed, "I'm in my old place back in Brooklyn."

"What--why?"

"I'm evading the inevitable, comfortably in sweats and a t-shirt."

"You've lost me." I stood and wondered into the kitchen.

"Cole has called me a total of fifteen times since I last saw him. I don't want to see him because I'm afraid I'll just blurt out that I saw him with his ex."