“Relentlessly working.”
“On my pieces?”
“Yeah.” Theodore attempts to ask me something else but I shake my head, holding a hand up. “But I have a feeling that what you need to share is far more important than my delving into the wonderful world of bases and setups.”
“True.” He doesn’t chuckle as I expect, and my stomach twists. “Please have a seat.”
“How bad?”
“Take a look, and I’ll tell you what I think.” It’s then I notice a folder already placed on the bench, and I sit on the edge before picking it up with a bit of hesitation. My eyes go from it to Theodore’s, and he nods, encouraging me to open up and read down the first page. He chooses to remain standing while I flip to the next page and the next, not truly wanting to believe what I’m reading while I’m once again smacked in the face by betrayal. Why, Elise?
“Jesus.” Because what else can I say as the papers in front of me depict how Elise tried to copyright my artwork as her own. The filing is here. It’s her name on the dotted line. “How the hell could she do this? Does this mean she owns my currently available work? What about the pieces already sold or commissioned?”
Is this part of her threat? What she’s using to warn me off with?
Tears gather at my eyes, and my heart clenches so painfully tight that I gasp, the papers falling from my grasp. All my hard work. All the sacrifices and hours spent in my studio.
“No.” His one-word response causes me to look up at him through blurry eyes. “She will not get away with this, Gabriella. That’s my promise to you.”
“But what can I do? If she’s approved and—”
“My lawyers have already submitted the paperwork necessary to prove that she’s lied on the application along with a signed affidavit from the lawyer stating this.”
“How?” I ask, because what person would willingly admit to filing an unlawful form with the intent to harm knowing this could cause him to be possibly sued or fined. “Why would he do that?”
“I’m persuasive, and we’ll leave it at that.”
“What did you do?”
“Scared a good twenty years off his life,” he says, his eyes alight with amusement, and I can’t help but smile even though a part of me just died. Even though I surely look like a mess, eyes watery and cheeks blotchy, I’m relieved by his words. I also have no way to pay him back for his kindness. “And whatever you’re thinking, stop it. I’m sure karma will deal with them both and fairly.”
“I’m still so thankful.”
“And I promised to take care of you. Did I not?” At my nod, he takes my hand not clutching the folder and stands me up. Just one tug and I’m against his chest. His arms snake around my waist, and his unoccupied hand lifts my chin. Those lips are so close to my own, his touch so comforting when I should be a crying mess. “It’s also why I had Tero follow her since yesterday and came over when he called to tell me where she was heading. I’m willing to fight all your battles, Gabriella. To be what you need in whatever shape you need me to be—be it a friend or the devil himself, but please know that everything I do is with your best interest at heart.”
23
Theodore
Three days ago...
* * *
Tero’s waiting for me inside my office when I walk in. The gallery is empty except for the two of us and his wife who sits in the lobby while reading through some paperwork. Meera’s questioning gaze follows me, I know she has questions but waits until prudent, to ask them.
“What did you find?” I take a seat behind my desk, my chair creaking when I lean back.
“Not me, but Meera.” At the raise of my brow, Tero pushes a black folder across my desk. “You might want to take a look at that.”
The first page is one with quotes from five different law offices, and each one deals with copyright law. The numbers are high for all, but the last one is the only one willing to take on the case without proof of ownership. “Who is he?”
“Turn to the next page.”
And when I do, my blood boils as a standard contract sits before me between Elise Scott and one David Hall from Hall and Hall Associates in Portland. Something that in and of itself throws a few red flags up as he’s been in trouble before for fraud, a case that made the national news sites. And two, why not someone local and with a better reputation?
“How many laws does this contract break?”
“At least five from initial review, but the largest is illegal intent to acquire the rights to Gabriella’s work. The government doesn’t take kindly to lying on a federal form.”
“And how did you come across this?” I ask, flipping to the next page and reading the details of every item listed in the over forty copyright submissions. From paintings to a handful of sculptures to the right to my commissioned pieces. “The conniving bitch.”
“Elise is worse than that, but she’s not acting alone.” At my nod, he lets out a small chuckle. “And to answer your previous question, my wife was looking into one filed for the gallery and randomly made a search under Gabriella Moore. This is what came back as Miss Scott was cocky enough to attempt and take ownership of Gabriella’s name as if it were her pseudonym.”
“I imagine Meera’s upset.”
“You know where her—our—loyalties lie, Mr. Astor.”
“That I do.” Skimming a bit lower on the document, I find something that’s a bit odd. “And where’s the lawyer now?”
“Being interrogated as we speak by a friend of mine in a Portland precinct.”
Nodding, I take out my phone and check the time. “My guess is he’s spending the night?”
“Correct.”
“What about the identity of the third party involved?”
“It’s a pair, and we’ve had a sighting. They’re close, but not showing their faces yet.”
“Thank you.” Tero looks like he has something else to say but heeds the warning in my tone and walks out of my office. My desk has three files in total: two sinners and one saint, but the latter seems to always pay the price since birth. Sitting back, I scratch my jaw while eyeing each name—the male and female that seem to need something from my girl. “Why do they want you, Gabriella? What hand haven’t they shown yet?”
Present...
* * *
She’s in shock.
The look on her face is one of deep loss, and I’m angry for her, at her, for letting someone so unworthy so close. A disgusting woman who believes in self-service and destroying anything in her path. But then again, Gabriella’s too sweet and trusting, two qualities that don’t exist in the world we live in anymore.
“Talk to me.” My voice is low, yet it still carries a bit of ire. It’s a tumultuous feeling as my desire is ever-present, but right now all I can think about is sweeping her into my arms and shielding her from the pain. However, the anguish she’s in is necessary no matter how much I wish it wasn’t. It’s her path. Part of her growth.