Pieces of Truth - By Angela Richardson Page 0,5

outlets to dispose of my inner fury.

I needed to get out of my apartment and fast, but at that time of morning I wasn’t sure where to go. Sometimes in the early morning I would head to the markets or Central Park to sketch and get some ideas, but this morning, all I wanted to do was offload and talk to someone. I wanted some support, and to get some clarity and advice on what I should do. I couldn’t talk to my best friend Tess. She was in Europe on a work assignment and with the cell reception there, as well as the time zones, calling her would be useless.

Fuck, I wish I could talk to Josh right now.

Josh. Oh yes - Josh. My best friend. I hadn’t seen Josh since graduation. We had called each other a couple of times since I moved here with Clint, but we had not spent any one-on-one time together since then. I wasn’t sure why I had avoided seeing Josh, and with that realization in mind, it was now all I wanted to do.

I quickly hurried back to my bedroom. Clint had childishly locked himself in the bathroom and had not come out. I threw on some jeans and tight fitted tank top, grabbed my bag, my sketchbook and my cell, and headed for the front door.

Chapter 2

The Past

~ ~ ~

Did he really think I didn’t see him coming? Did he really think I would buy the incredible coincidence of our meeting? Didn’t he know that boys had tried this same routine before?

They knew who I was. They all knew.

Grudges. Curiosity. Power. Whatever the reason, when a guy came up to talk to me or when they ‘accidently’ ran into me, their faces were riddled with motivation. I was no fool. I was not blind. Plus, I had been informed time, and time again by my father about the whispers, bets and other such reasons as to why men would approach me. I knew they considered me a conquest, a way to get to my father, and today outside the stairs of NYU was no different.

I noticed him walking towards me before the pretend collision. I saw his stride, saw his arrogance a mile away. Yes, I saw Samuel Voltaggio before our ‘chance’ encounter the day we first met.

When our bodies first hit one another, and I fell to the ground, our eyes connected while he helped me to my feet. There was immediate confusion in his gaze in those first few seconds. I expected to hear cheesy lines and a steady flow of dishonesty to come tumbling out of his mouth, but this guy, stalled with nothing to say. The rugged Italian, who looked like he could conquer the world with his swagger, seemed lost in hesitation. He couldn’t stop staring at my face, and had a problem with what to say next. His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“A sorry would be good you know,” I pointed out to him as he steadied me to my feet. He cleared his throat. Immediately I smelt his cologne. It was a manly scent that made me think of fast cars and secret spies. The smell reminded me of my Dad when I was young and the endless stream of women that would visit him. His well-groomed features as well as the smell, told me that this guy knew how to operate women, and I would need to be careful.

“Oh yes, right. I’m so sorry I bumped into you like that. I didn’t see you.” And right away I could tell when he was lying. I could hear the hint in his tone, the way his voice wavered. In a split second he had given me his greatest weakness, and I knew playing with him was going to be easy.

“I, I, I…” he stuttered, still looking at my lips.

“Cat got your tongue?” I asked. I squinted my eyes at him as I waited for something more than this bumbling innocent guy act. This was not impressive. How he thought this was the right approach was beyond me. I really thought he would be a lot smarter. A man on a mission would bring his heaviest artillery, and it looked like this guy hadn’t even packed a pocket knife.

He shook his head, trying to come up with something to say before finally finding his voice again. “I did not expect...” He trailed off.

“To run into another person. You and me both. Thanks for the

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