You will meet Erik in this chapter, so make him feel welcome!!
MAN OF SORROWS
CHAPTER 3
"What was that all about?" Meg asked, driving her car out of the lot as the rain gently played a serenade on the windshield.
Christine shrugged her shoulders and looked surprised by Meg's question.
"What are you talking about?"
"That guy…he couldn't take his eyes off you, and yet he wore a wedding ring."
"He was just being friendly, Meg – not every guy is out to bash a woman over her head and haul her back to his cave."
Meg narrowed her eyes at her mocking best friend and smirked playfully, "Now you're just being ridiculous."
Christine smiled, but was silent for the rest of the ride, until they reached the studio. The large building took on an ominous personality in the night sky.
"Meg, I really need to go home."
"No you don't, you only have two more weeks of summer break left…you're mine, sister, for as long as I can keep you."
Meg didn't take "no" for answer, "Come on, Chrissy – you can stay for my session and meet Evie Sybille."
Christine really could not figure out how Meg always managed to get her way. Her manipulative skills were unsurpassed and Christine found them hard to resist.
The puckered, protruding-bottom-lip-sympathy-ploy that Meg had perfected, was working its magic once again; Christine dropped her head and threw up her arms in defeat.
"Oh, do stop pouting…you're a grown woman!" Christine jested, "You should feel ashamed of yourself."
Meg grinned, knowing she had successfully gotten her way, once again.
♫♫♫
Julius watched the woman named Christine leave with a grieving twist in his heart. Despite the loneliness he sensed in her, Julius felt a genuine warmth, and a down to earth gentleness coming from her.
It was almost like seeing a ghost. It wasn't that they looked alike, but there was just something about her – many things, actually.
Julius brushed it off and locked the gallery doors, turned down the lights, and keyed in the security code. He looked at his watch, just to make note of the time, it was 9:06 p.m.
He ascended the stairs toward Erik's studio apartment, and noticed the door was slightly open. Julius poked his head through to see Erik standing at the two-way mirror, which leant a perfect view of the gallery floor.
"Did you see her?"
Erik didn't even turn at his brother-in-law's voice. He closed his eyes to the onslaught of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him.
There was no immediate response; just a silence filled with much guilt, pain, and regret.
"If you mean the redhead…yes, I saw her." He responded in a quick, reserved manner.
Julius immediately felt the wall go up between them. It had been this way for almost six years.
"Erik…"
"Julius…I know what you are going to say…and I will agree with you…but we have been here before…leave it." Erik's voice was strained, and his eyes remained on the gallery floor in front of him.
Julius knew that tone – he knew that hard, square-shouldered stance that signified Erik's resolve when it came to an issue.
"She was my sister, Erik…I miss her too." Julius stated quietly, "You're not in this alone, you never have been."
Erik slowly turned toward the man that had been his friend for over eight years. Tears fell from his stormy eyes and inched down his face, and there was a silent, fierce tremble about his shoulders.
"I didn't just lose Loraine, Julius – there was so much more..." His mask mocked him as he turned to the window and his reflection stared back at him, "…so much more."
Julius moved to stand beside Erik, looking down on the gallery, Erik's latest accomplishment in a long line of successes.
"It went well tonight." Julius stated, changing the subject.
Erik only grunted his response as he went to the bar to pour a drink. He looked at Julius, and the blond man nodded his head.
Erik expertly mixed two Vodka martini's with a twist. He walked back to Julius and handed the drink to him.
Julius regarded Erik while they sipped their drinks. Considering his appearance, other than the mask, he was still the same man he had been before his life was torn apart; but now, there was a simmering, growing indignation for the wrongs that had been done to him, burning within his teal eyes.
His dark, wavy hair, spotted at the temples with the slightest indication of grey, fell to just beneath his collar in the back, framed his face down to mid-neck in the front, and swept over his forehead in short wisps.
The visible features were strong and noble; with a straight, narrow nose, refined cheekbone, firm, cleft chin, and a full, sensuous mouth. His eyes were his most striking feature; they were a deep teal in color – appearing green or blue, depending on his mood or the clothes he wore.
If he would take the time to notice, Erik would see that the women of the world still found him devastatingly attractive – the mask mattered very little, and mostly to him.
The heaviness that consumed his broad shoulders was not any lighter, even after he had obtained the answers he had been seeking for years; somewhere, deep within him, Erik still blamed himself.
"I think we need to increase the lighting in the far left corner of the gallery, it seems to be too dismal – those pieces are meant to be uplifting and bright – but the lighting doesn't lend itself to that."
Erik had given it much thought, actually. He had recently acquired those wonderful pieces and didn't want them being overlooked due to bad or inadequate lighting.
"Okay, I'll have Randall drop by early tomorrow and install another set of track lighting."
Erik nodded his agreement and slowly made his way over to the piano. She beckoned him like a temptress, his music mistress; she knew she was the only one who could chase away the desperate loneliness that ate away at him.
His fingers skirted across the keys, and Erik was in another world – no pain, no loneliness, no darkness – and no death.
♫♫♫
The girls emerged from the car and headed toward the studio, which actually resembled a simple warehouse from the outside. Once you entered through the door however, the big lights, extended platform, electrical wiring, and props gave away the true purpose of the building.
Sam was berating some poor sap for not grounding something correctly, when Meg tapped him on the shoulder. He turned frustrated eyes toward the source of the disturbance and smiled in relief when he found it was Meg.
"You are early, but that is a good thing."
Sam was a fatherly figure for Meg. He was in his mid-fifties with brown hair that only harbored a few grey hairs. His features were amiable and pleasant; cute was the word that came to mind when describing him, but not handsome.
"I am going to my dressing room to get ready, is she here yet?" Meg asked.
"No, they will be here any minute and will let us know the proper procedure."
Meg nodded and headed toward the side hallway leading to her dressing room. Christine proceeded down the hall behind her, wondering what Evie was really like.
Meg's dressing room was much like any other, but Meg didn't care – it was hers.
"Come on in, make yourself at home…don't mind the mess." Meg laughed as Christine stepped over flung shoes and blouses.
"I do hope your apartment isn't this messy?" Christine teased.
"You know it's not…you were just over there."
"I know, but a great deal can happen in a day."
Meg huffed and rolled her eyes playfully.
Christine remained quiet for several minutes and Meg was impervious to this until she looked up to find Christine frowning.
"What?" Meg asked, turning to look at her.
Christine shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips, "Nothing – I was just thinking about the man who painted that picture I was admiring at the gallery."
"What about him?" Meg asked; a spark of interest in her eyes.
"Well, no one really knows a great deal about him." Christine shrugged. "I mean, nothing specific, anyway."
Meg's face lit up, "Wow, a real mystery!"
They both giggled and then the studio's hair designer began was working frantically on Meg's blond tresses, while the make up artist was diligently fussing over her perfect features.
Sam chose that moment to waltz in the door in a subdued panic that was only evident in the strained sound of his voice.
"She's here…Evie Sybille is here."
Meg closed her eyes to calm her frazzled nerves. She slowly opened them again and spoke to her image in the mirror, "This is your chance – your chance to expand your career into the European market…relax and enjoy."
Christine saw the shaking hand that Meg lowered to her lap. She couldn't remember a time when something had been this important to her best friend. Christine vowed to do whatever it took to make sure that Meg's dreams came true.
"Come on girlfriend…I want to see you kick some serious bootie out there." Christine stated with humorous sincerity.
Meg laughed at her use of the word "bootie".
"You are such a girl scout, Christine…bootie…that is along the same lines as 'manhood'."
Christine smiled and wrapped her arm around Meg's waist as they headed out the dressing room door.
"Well, that is as strong as my language gets."
Meg squeezed her best friend's shoulder, "I know, and I love you for it."
Her eyes suddenly grew serious and she stopped walking. Christine stared at her friend with a curious expression on her face.
"What's wrong, Meg?"
Meg forced a smile and closed her eyes, "Do I look okay…you know…like a world-class model?"
Christine smiled with confidence and gave Meg's trembling body another squeeze, "You have always looked like a world-class model."
TBC