The Warhol Incident Read Online Free PDF Page A

blared in my mind, but I ignored them. Fumbling to pull my room key out of my pocket, I got distracted by how close he was standing. I looked up into his eyes. Maybe he was right, and we didn’t have to be us tonight.
    My brain shut down, and on pure instinct , I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to me. His hands tangled in my hair as we kissed. It was electric, like we were lightning, and the energy surged between us. One of his hands traveled slowly down my back. We continued kissing as if the world were about to end. His hand traveled lower, and he hiked my leg up. Wrapping both of my legs around his waist, he supported my weight in his arms and leaned my back against the wall. This was not appropriate hallway behavior, and it was about to turn even more graphic. But, at the moment, I didn’t care. My phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking the spell temporarily.
    “Don’t answer it,” he hissed in my ear as his lips traveled to my neck and began to do some absolutely fantastic things. I sighed in pleasure, giving up on retrieving the phone. Voicemail existed for a reason.
    My hands were in Martin’s hair now, and I was trying t o remember where my room key was when his phone rang. This time, he stopped, cursing quietly. Rational thought was reigning supreme in my brain once again, and I untangled my legs and stood, slightly shaky, back on the ground.
    “ I’m sorry. I have to take this.” His apology was so sincere. I knew he would regret having ever answered the phone. The universe just sent a cosmic signal, preventing us from crossing that line and making a huge mistake. I found my room key and pulled out my cell phone. It had been Jean-Pierre, and I needed to call him back. Martin spoke a few words on his call and hung up. “I hate to say this, but I’ve gotta go. There is one more thing I need to get signed before I head home tomorrow. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He smiled seductively. “Remember where we were, and we’ll continue this as soon as I get back.” He clasped my face in his hands and kissed me again before retreating toward the elevator. “Don’t start without me,” he called, getting into the elevator. I watched the doors close and shut my eyes.
    “S tupid. Stupid. Stupid,” I berated myself as I unlocked the door. Thankfully, we didn’t have an audience in the hallway, and things stopped before they really started. Why did I have to be attracted to the one person I shouldn’t be involved with? At least nothing serious transpired. I picked up my phone and dialed Jean-Pierre.
    “What’s going on?” I asked .
    “I got a call from a fence I know . Tonight, there might be a scheduled buy for one of the missing pieces. Want to head over early?”
    “I’ll meet you there in an hour. ” Hopefully by then, I’d manage to sober up completely.
    “ À tout à l'heure . ” Jean-Pierre hung up.
    I pulled a bottle of Gatorade out of the mini-fridge and drank greedily, hoping replenishing my fluids and electrolytes would flush the remaining alcohol out of my system faster. It was only wine, but the sheer volume was the issue. Checking my reflection in the mirror, my pupils weren’t dilated and responded to the light. Maybe I wasn’t intoxicated but just stupid. Damn Paris. The fact it was the city of love was a mental manipulation by itself without Martin putting other idiotic and fanciful ideas into my head. I was angry for the mess I was making of things. I worked for Martin’s company, and he was my friend. That was it.
    Locating the hotel stationary, I decided it was best to leave a note: Glad we were saved by the bell. Went to work. Have a safe flight. Leaving it at the main desk for him, I went outside and hailed a cab. My head was clearer now. My earlier intoxication might have had more to do with Martin than the wine.
    T he cab dropped me off a couple blocks away from the gallery, and I walked the rest of the way to the proper street. I had my suspicions on which