Chapter 10 - Pineapple Art Model

~ Daniella ~

The second half of the session had started and here I am making a mannequin out of myself again. I did say that I felt like a queen an hour ago because of Vincent and Enrique’s warm gazes at me right? Now, I tell you, I feel like a prisoner with Erik’s accusatory and possessive glances. After doing some hasty strokes and weird actions with his brush, he hadn’t touched the canvas thereafter. It had been probably fifteen minutes past since he sat on his artist chair, silent, with one finger tracing the fine curve of his bottom lip. It was the middle finger and I would have thought of it as just insignificant if not for the object he was wearing...

The spotlights were really bright but even so I still could determine a small greenish flare from Erik’s direction. Curious, I moved my eyes to see what was causing it. My mouth immediately opened after realizing he was wearing the ring (my RING!) in his middle finger. If I’m not mistaken, I think he was flagging the ring clearly for me to see. I couldn’t believe he has my family’s heirloom all these time!

I remember when I went to the Lost-And-Found Section yesterday morning before I went to the grand ballroom, the male staff told me that no one had come to surrender the emerald ring. I thought that a staff in the grand ballroom that was present during our decoration must have found it and probably handed it to the Section, but I guess not. I was dejected, yes. I couldn’t possibly return to New York without that heirloom with me.

Mom is going to kill me if she finds out I lost it.

So I pleaded my case to the man. Long story short, the Section manager said they would do a thorough interview and inspection on all of the staff of the chateau for the ring, and before I leave, they would give me a response and I hope it would be favorable.

Favorable, my ass now.

With Erik wearing the ring, I can’t possibly see a good future on myself. He still has a score to settle with me and I have a feeling he is going to use that important object to gain it.

“Time’s up. Show your artworks please,” my thoughts were cut off when Vincent announced to the class.

As expected, nobody groaned in disappointment with the time limit. It seems they were used to it. I saw Suri examining her work and Amano’s with a big, pleased smile. I saw Enrique look at his canvas and then to me with a wink. I saw Karl who was silent but immersed with his creation. And I saw Erik, who, well... never mind. There was nothing to say with that brooding and arrogant appearance of his. Nothing at all.

Vincent sauntered from one canvas to another with not a hint of expression in his face. He was just examining the works silently with his arms crossed in his chest.

I have to say, I admire this side of him. It really shows that he is deeply-connected with his craft.

When he arrived in Erik’s canvas though, his expression gave way to that of amusement. He covered his mouth and controlled his laugh from escaping.

“Why President,” he said as he looked at the nonchalant man, “You’re creation is somewhat out-of-subject.”

“Is it?” I heard Erik say. I saw all of the artists gather around Erik’s back and they suppressed a laugh of their own.

Just what did Erik paint anyway?

“What do you think Daniella?” Vincent, with a brief bob of his head, urged me to look.

Me, being a curious cat, jumped up and walked to them. I furrowed my brows at Erik as I did so and as a precautionary measure, I held my breath at the same time. I didn’t want my temper exploding in front of so many people once I see the painting.

I thought something like a caricature or a stick figure of me in the canvas, but after seeing the thing for myself I was like: “A pineapple?! Seriously?”

Yes, seriously, he actually drew my eyes, my nose, and my mouth but with the face of a ripe pineapple complete with details and razor-sharp leaves.

I threw Erik a pointy glare and fisted my hands.

“It suits your prickly attitude, Ms. Rosecraft,” was what he simply said.

God, how my volcano had exploded.

“My what?!!”

Vincent immediately raised a hand to stop me.

“Now now, it is a fine art work,” he actually complimented, “very uhmm... unique. I think I like to frame it up.”

I shook my head vehemently. “No you can’t Vincent!”

Vincent gave me a smirk. “Don’t worry, Daniella. I’ll put it on Erik’s chamber so that he won’t forget you.”

Erik made a throaty grumble, while I heard the other club members snicker.

“You are jesting are you?” I gave him a desperate look, but he just pinched my flamed-up cheeks and said, “Of course, I am.”

He turned to the others and waved a hand. “Now, this ends our class. Thank you for attending guys.”

And with that all walked out as if nothing had happened with Erik as the first one to leave. I scowled at his back as he exited the door.

Suri approached me still giddy as ever and said she’ll give her and Amano’s paintings to me as a sign of our newly-formed friendship. Enrique followed after reminding me of our lunch date. Although fuming inside because of Erik’s painting, I nodded and smiled at him. Vincent too showed up in our midst and proceeded to remind Enrique that he will join us, but this time without the president.

“Why? I thought the three of us are going to accompany Daniella?” I heard Enrique ask, looking at Vincent with an arched brow.

“It seems he is in a foul mood. Maybe it’s his time of the month,” Vincent replied with a deadpan face.

“Mi amigo,” Enrique rested a hand on his shoulder, “The President is always in his time of the month.”

And they both cracked a melodious laugh with me oblivious as to what they were joking about.

Vincent looked at me one minute after and smiled his debonair smile.

There he goes again in his prince charming mode.

“Well, that’s a good advantage for me,” Enrique stated. “I’ll only have you Vincent as my competition.” He looped an arm in my waist and drew me closer to him. I shifted a little, feeling uncomfortable with the sudden closeness.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I looked at them with determined eyes. “Can you tell me where we are eating? I’ll just follow you later. I actually need to do something right now.”

My anger on Erik is still present, but the need to take my ring back won over. My lunch with these two hot guys can totally wait.

“Go ahead, Daniella,” Vincent, without asking anything, said to me. I don’t know if he was just being kind or if he knows something was up. He patted Enrique’s slump shoulder and pushed him towards the door. “Let’s go, mi amigo.”

“We’ll text you the name of the restaurant, my Señorita,” Enrique stated as they left. I nodded and waved a hand.

Once I was alone, I hastily took my cellphone on the sofa and dashed to where I think Erik had left earlier. There were two entrance/exit glass doors in the gallery. I didn’t choose the one that I went inside; instead, as I was trying to catch up with Erik, I picked the second one that was connected to a narrow hallway.

“Hey!” I shouted the moment I caught a glimpse of Erik’s broad back. He didn’t turn around or stop and still continued to walk, albeit a bit faster now. I started to run.

“Wait! Mr. President!” I shouted again, but still he did not stop.

“Erik!!!” This time, not only did I scream like a crazed woman, I used his name. Finally, he stopped and turned around.

“What?” His eyes were arctic when our gazes connected.

“I want to talk to you,” I said, half-breathless, when I reached him.

“A talk you say?” he made a resting bitch face. “Is it about that painting? Because I think it is already crystal clear that it’s you, Daniella.”

“Not that!” I snapped. I am so a millimeter close to punching this guy’s face again. He is just so...

“Then what is it?”

“The ring! The ring in your finger!” I pointed my eyes at it. “That emerald ring. That’s mine. It is my family’s heirloom.”

Now, his expression made a hundred eighty degree turn from being an arrogant ass to being a mischievous bastard.

“Oh really?” he grinned, “Prove it.”

I squared my shoulders and looked at him without a nervous blink. “I have tons of pictures to prove my words Mr. Fancii, but they are in my apartment in New York. I can’t—”

“Then this is mine. Finders keepers.” He fitted the ring securely in his middle finger right in my front and then whirled around to continue walking.

“Wait! Erik!” I hastily grabbed his arm and turned him around. I could feel his muscles tense where I touched.

“I know you found it in the grand ballroom that afternoon when we first met. I’m sure of it. Did you not know that it is mine and shamefully kept it for yourself? You have a Lost-And-Found Section. You could have just surrendered the ring there!”

He grabbed my hand and scowled at me. My God, our faces are inches apart.

“I care not of any jewelry, woman,” his tone turned dark. “Gold. Silver. Fucking diamonds. And even gems are the same to me: THRASH. This ring is thrash too, but I prefer to keep it.”

“Why?” I pleaded. Yes, why does he need to keep it when it is just thrash to him?!

And that’s when he smirked wickedly at me.

“Why you say?” He pulled me close. In an instant, I could feel the warmth of his breath near my ear when he drawled, “Sweet, delicious revenge Daniella. My sweet, delicious revenge.”

My heart flatlined and my knees turned weak. “Oh God, no.”

Just as I thought.

He loosened his grip, turned with his cold glare, and left me in a state of shock. With this fact of course, I couldn’t question anymore. I couldn’t possibly fight him in this kind of revenge, no matter how cowardly it would seem, but I still had a trump card in my hand for emergency purposes and this, I consider, is a state of calamity in my life.

“Wait! Please!” I grabbed his arm back to which he narrowed his eyes at me. To hell with my pride now, I have to get the ring back even if it means I will kneel in front of this man. “I need you to return it to me. My mom is going to strangle me if I don’t return in New York with it! Whatever it is that you want me to do, I will do it. Please, just return the ring to me.”

I placed a hand in my chest just to show that I was really sincere. Almost. Almost, my eyes wetted but I blinked it back in. I may grovel at this man’s feet but I will never cry in front of him.

He looked at me and I shuddered with the coldness of it. There was no hint of sympathy in it, just pure blankness.

“Then don’t leave the château,” he finally said and I dropped my mouth.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m offering you to become a member of the Fancy Pants Club, Daniella.” He stepped closer; I released my grip from his arm and stepped back.

“What?! You want me to become a member?!”

I seriously can’t believe he is offering me this. Me, Daniella Rosecraft, a Fancy Pants Club member? He said in the wedding reception that fanciness is what I lack the most. Why the hell would he ask me this now?

“Yes,” he replied, “but you will have a different position than the others. A special position I have made for you.”

My lips trembled. “What is it?”

He cracked a grin. “A maid.”

“You are kidding me.”

“You know I don’t joke around, Daniella.”

“And what would I do with being a maid? You have countless of employees here. They maintain the château clean and grand. I think one additional maid wouldn’t make a difference.”

He licked the bottom of his lips. He freaking licked the bottom of his lips! Someone help me, I’m going to faint!

“Oh, but you won’t be a maid here, Daniella.”

I gulped. The fucking suspense is killing me. “What do you mean?”

“You will become my personal maid. My slave.”

And that’s when my cheeks heat up like a magma. His slave... I had to toughen myself up just in order to shove not-worthy-to-mention thoughts out of my head.

“When I’m contented with your service, I will return this ring to you. If not, then you are in for an indefinite stay here in the château.”

“No,” I said sternly. I can’t just let him make all the rules if I’m going to say yes to this absurd blackmail. “Give me an exact time. I want a concrete time period, Erik. I am working in my mother’s company you know, I can’t just tell her that I’ll be staying here indefinitely. That’s the same as her strangling me because I don’t have the ring!”

He released a long sigh. It seems he got my point. “So be it. One year. It would be enough, yes?”

“How about one month? That would be so much better.” I crossed my arms and pressed my lips thinly.

“Ten months.”

“Three.”

“Eight.”

“Five.”

“Six months and no more,” he snapped. “That’s my term, Daniella. If you won’t accept, then kiss your ring goodbye.”

Bastard!

“Fine!” I dropped a heavy foot on the floor. “If that’s what makes your insides tickle, I will serve you for six months. After that, you will return the ring to me.”

He shook his head and tsk’d. “You forget that you should please me, Daniella. Working as my slave for six months would be naught if you keep that prickly pineapple attitude of yours.”

“How am I supposed to act then? With that contemptible personality of yours, I doubt I’ll be able to act like a servile maid like you want me to! I’d rather frown than give you a plastic smile.”

He shrugged, “That’s your problem, not mine,” and turned away from me. “Come with me if you want to sign the Fancy Pants Club Pledge.”

I inhaled a breath, the one that my Yoga instructor had taught me, and then followed him from behind. His blackmail was downright dirty, but I have to accept it as I am the loser here.

Please him? Yeah, I can do that. I can act the part perfectly, but in no way am I going to get touchy with this guy the whole time of my service. I will make sure to draw this line in my pledge to the club and I will make sure to point this out in that thick head of his.

Yes, skin contact is a no no.

Prohibited.

Forbidden.

Banned.