Positive/Negativity (36 page)

He turned out the lights in the conference room, grabbed my hand and led me through the door.

“I don’t want to discuss this now. Let’s just go home.”

The man was exasperating.

“
I don’t want to go home
. I want to talk about this now!”

…
Stand off
…

We stared at each other for several moments. It was as if we were waiting to see who’d blink first.

Finally, Declan spoke, “Look, Aria. I’m going to have to be around her once in a while if The Studio is going to thrive and grow. You must have seen that. She’s a top model. There are lots of models coming in and out of here, if you haven’t noticed. She’ll be bringing prospects, or maybe even consulting with some, to help the business. Clients that we’ve both worked for may be sending her with prospects. You must understand my business enough to know that having her around is a part of it.”

“Really, Declan?” I said like a smartass. “Talking down to
me
about business is unattractive, even on
you
. I can respect business, but how does that fit in with the unbalanced way she’s behaved with me personally in the past? Business and personal are two different things! She’s alarmed even you with her actions. Do we just dismiss all that because she behaved well today? How can you say it doesn’t matter?”

His shoulders relaxed and some of the anger left his voice. I thought it was because he was trying to rationalize the situation. My mistaken analysis of Declan relaxing was in actuality due to his lack of sleep.

“It doesn’t matter because
this isn’t about you!”
he said waving his arms to indicate The Studio as a whole. “It’s about business.
My business
. It isn’t always personal, Aria. If you wouldn’t have stopped in here tonight unannounced, then you would
never
have known she was here.”

…
I stopped
—
dead
…

“So, in other words, you wouldn’t have disclosed it to me?”

I waited for an answer. None came. He just continued his professional, macho stance as he glared at me until I spoke.

“That’s what I thought.”

I could feel the tears that were threatening to spill along with the anger that would fuel the release of them.

As I turned and walked away from him, I heard him call my name, but I just kept walking. I was angry and hurt that he couldn’t see that Marisol was a threat to him, to his business, to me, and to our relationship. The fact that he couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—see through her games and tactics pissed me off. If I stayed here and faced him, then I knew that I’d say things that I’d later regret. The better decision was to walk away.

I couldn’t go home, so I drove to Paige’s. I didn’t want to be near him—we needed some space.

Marisol was many things to me. A bitch, conniver, manipulator, liar, parasite, elitist, deviant, leech, and psychopath—the list could go on and on. The role that she played well was Chameleon, and that was what alarmed me. She was now misleading Declan into believing that she was attempting to help him grow his business—but I knew better, and it terrified me.

Marisol was scheming, I could feel it. She didn’t expend her energy unless there was a benefit for her. She had an ulterior motive, and I’d do my best to expose her for what her true incentives were. She was beginning to infiltrate my life with Declan on every level. The fact that he wasn’t going to tell me that she was at The Studio was a clear sign of that. She had an evil agenda, and I was on to her.

Marisol had to be stopped.

…and as Declan sped away from The Studio, Marisol watched him drive off…and she smiled at the wonderful plans she had for Aria…

T
The Mess I’ve Made – Heller Mason

TT
You’re The Only One – Maria Mena

TTT
Mine Would be You – Blake Shelton

To think that just hours earlier, I was in Paige’s company, praising Declan’s hard work and preaching to her of all the positive aspects of our relationship, and how wonderful we were. I would have felt like a fool at how I was going on to her if I weren’t quite so emotional at that moment.
Thank God Paige and I had been friends long enough that she allowed me to pace and ramble!
Declan had called my cell phone several times. At first, I let it go to voicemail; I was just so angry that I didn’t trust what I might say to him. The last time he phoned, I answered, but I didn’t allow him to speak. I simply said, “I’m fine.” “I’m at Paige’s.” “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I then threw my phone in my bag just as Paige handed me glass of wine. I sat there and told her everything. She listened—just listened. At the end of my rant, which seemed an hour long, I finally looked at her, waiting for a comment.
T

“What? Do you think I overreacted?” I asked now that some of the fury had left my body.

“Do you really want me to answer that? Or do you just want me to agree with you?” she asked, cocking her head in that endearing, friend way.

“By that look on your face, I can tell what you’re thinking—you just answered my question. You think I’m crazy, but I can see through a game that Marisol’s beginning to play. No, better yet, I can
feel
that she’s playing a game even though I have no proof, but because of that, it seems like
I’m
the crazy one.” I walked over to her sofa and curled my legs under me, feeling defeated.

“I do understand, sweetie. I remember Aimee saying that this woman was bad news, but her being in a conference room with a group of young models doesn’t mean that she has a sinister plan in play.”

“Paige, when have you ever known me to be an alarmist?” I challenged her with the question and waited for an answer.

She shook her head in the negative.

“That’s what I thought,” I said as I went over to pour another glass of wine. The calming effect it had on me made me feel that I could now speak a bit more rationally. “I want you to think back to when I first told you about her. Do you remember me telling you that she behaved as if she were being tolerant of Declan having a quick fling with me?”

She nodded.

“It never got any better. Every time I encountered her, she’s addressed me as if I had stolen Declan away from her. When I asked him about her, he assured me that he never had a relationship with her—ever—but that didn’t deter her. She continued to bait me at every opportunity. No matter the social situation, she addressed me; No…let me correct myself—she attacked me—verbally, and there was some physical contact.”

Paige was now exhibiting apprehension while I shared my concern with Marisol’s escalating distaste and impatience with me.

“How much of this did you tell Declan?

Overwhelming emotions of fear and love hit me at the same time, causing my eyes to glaze with tears.

“I’ve told him everything. What I left out, until tonight, was how truly unbalanced I believe she has become. I think he’s always known that she was a little possessive, but I don’t think he’s seen how agitated and alarming she truly is. She was
delusional
when she confronted me with regard to Declan. She’s obsessed with having him.”

I pulled my knees to my chest as Paige reached her hand out to me. Her kind gesture caused the tears to escape their barrier and slowly descend down my face.

“You may think I’m crazy, but my dad always told me to go with my gut. Right now, my gut’s telling me that Marisol is bat-shit crazy. I’m so tired of these mind games. It’s the same thing over and over. It just drones in my head constantly when I know there is a possibility that I will be in her presence, or that she will be in Declan’s. I just feel so paranoid when I’m around her. It’s like an alarm goes off inside of me. I think Aimee’s the only one who sees that she’s unstable, but I think it’s
more
than that. Today, when I saw her,
I
became the unreasonable one. I
never
behave that way. I don’t know how to explain the protectiveness I felt for Declan, but he wasn’t taking me seriously, and I felt I was being smothered by the emotion.”

Paige moved next to me on the sofa, and I put my head on her shoulder.

“Try talking to him again. Tell him exactly what you’ve told me. He loves you. Even if he thinks that Marisol isn’t quite the threat that you believe she is, he’ll know that your reaction was motivated from your love for him.”

I just shook my head.

“My gut’s telling me something else, Paige. I’ll talk to him,” I said, tipping my chin up to her. “He’ll think I’m his crazy, disturbed girlfriend, but I’ll talk to him. I just hope he’ll listen.”

As I settled into Paige’s guest room, the bed absorbed the aching that my body felt from the resulting emotional assault. Pulling the covers over me, I took a quick glance at my cell phone. There was one message from Declan.

Declan
:
Hi, Beautiful. I miss you. We need to talk, and we will. I didn’t want you to go to sleep without knowing that I love you. I was overtired. Come home to me, please. We’ll talk it out—over coffee
A
.

I smiled. Thoughts of him flooded my emotions. He had become my world, but I didn’t want to be dragged into his old one. Unfortunately, I believed Marisol was attempting to knock
my
world off its axis; and that included Declan.

Paige gave me a hug as I put my purse in the car.

“Thanks for listening. I really appreciate it,” I said, returning the hug.

“No problem. What are friends for?” she said. I could see the concern crossing her features. “Aria, I know he’ll be a bit stubborn because he’ll think he can divide Marisol into a
personal
and
business
category.” Holding me by the shoulders in front of her, Paige grew a bit more serious. “I also know you. If you
truly
feel there’s a reason for concern, then you’ll find a way to make Declan see it. Just be on guard with Marisol, okay? If your radar’s going up whenever you see her, it may not just be Declan that she wants to hurt.”

I gave her another hug.

“Thank you for not thinking I’m nuts.”