Fear of Falling. Cindi Myers

Fear of Falling - Cindi Myers


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      “He’s a very talented artist. I see why his work sells so well.”

      “I meant what did you think of him as a man. Some women think he’s very sexy.”

      “He’s very good-looking. I also think he knows it and uses that to his advantage.” More than looks, Sartain had an animal sensuality that was undeniably attractive.

      “He and I used to be lovers, you know. When I first came here.”

      “Oh?” Natalie shifted in her chair, an uncomfortable tightness in her chest. “Used to be?”

      “We split up when he wanted me to do some things I wasn’t comfortable with.” Laura leaned forward, her voice low. “He’s into some very kinky stuff.”

      “So I gathered from his paintings.” Heat washed over Natalie as she remembered their discussion in the dungeon. What did it say about her that she was more fascinated than appalled by his kinkier interests?

      “He can be very charming,” Laura said. “When he came on to me, I was so flattered. That was before I realized he treats all women that way. None of us really mean anything to him.” Her voice was heavy with regret.

      “I’m surprised you continued working for him if he treated you badly,” Natalie said.

      “Oh, but he didn’t treat me badly. Not really. He was just being…Sartain.” Laura spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “And it’s still something, getting to see him every day, you know?”

      No, she didn’t know. Why would a woman like Laura—beautiful and obviously accomplished—cling to a man who had rejected her? “I’m sure there are other men who would treat you much better,” she said.

      “Oh, I’m sure. And don’t think I’m still mooning over him like some silly schoolgirl.” Laura waved away the notion and attacked her salad once more. “I just think it’s important to have a role in supporting a great artist. It’s very gratifying, knowing I’m helping the world to know and appreciate his work.”

      Was this woman for real? Natalie studied her coworker, but Laura’s expression seemed sincere enough. Maybe she was some kind of art groupie, like the young women who followed rock groups. “I’d say Sartain is very lucky to have someone so loyal on his staff,” she said.

      “The work really is interesting,” Laura said. “You’ll see. Just don’t make the mistake I did and get involved with him personally.”

      “Oh, of course not.” Natalie busied herself folding her napkin and sweeping up crumbs from the table. “I’m certainly not interested in Sartain as anything more than an employer,” she said. Liar.

      But having an interest and acting on it were two different things. She knew too well the danger of abandoning oneself to desire.

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