“Months,” I said.
Brandon’s eyes goggled. “Months? I don’t have months. I’ve got shows lined up for the rest of the year. I can’t shift things around. Christos,” he said, sounding deeply disappointed, “I can’t keep these buyers waiting around. If I don’t close them now, they’re going to go elsewhere.”
“Why don’t you sell them on some of your other artists?”
“These are big name buyers. They’re not interested in my other artists, Christos. They’re interested in you. They want the Manos magic. I need your paintings. Now. How many do you have?”
“Three are finished. The ones you’ve seen of Avery, Jacqueline, and Becca. I’ve got three more in progress.” I was thinking of the LOVE painting of me and Samantha, the solo portrait of her, and the surprise I had brewing for everyone.
“Six? I thought you had seven. I know I sent you seven models and you were working on all of them. What happened?”
“The, ahhh…well…” I was going to have to tell him, “The painting of Isabella is R.I.P.”
“What? Why?” He was frowning.
“I told you, it wasn’t working for me.”
“You didn’t change it, did you, like Wentworth asked?”
“No,” I scoffed. “He’s an idiot.”
“Good. Because I’m telling you, I can sell that painting for six figures for sure.”
Fuck. He may as well know. “It’s gone.”
“What, did you sell it already?” he chuckled nervously.
If I had, I would be a total prick and Brandon would reconsider our business relationship. I wouldn’t blame him. Lucky for me, I hadn’t. “I, um, tore it to pieces.”
Brandon’s eyes goggled wider than before. “Why the hell would you do that?” He actually sounded angry. Brandon never lost his cool. “I had a buyer lined up. The guy buys nothing but high priced nudes. He wouldn’t think twice about paying a hundred grand for yours. You’re crazy, Christos.” Brandon shook his head and frowned, looking half defeated. Then he paused and his angry expression eased into an easy grin. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you, Christos?”
I shook my head, “No. I tore the shit out of it and threw it away.”
Brandon’s eyes goggled a third time. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“Christos, you’re killing me,” he sighed. “I can’t put up a solo show with six paintings. The gallery will look empty. I’m going to need more.”
I felt bad. I had put myself in this position. “Look, maybe I can make it nine.”
“Nine?” he asked skeptically.
“I never finished the three ones of the other models.”
“Why not?”
“I told you, I started on new pieces.”
“Christos, what are you doing to me?” he pleaded. “How far are you along on all the unfinished paintings?” He sounded totally exasperated. “Are you going to have any of them done in time?” Now he sounded like a disappointed parent.
Poor Brandon. I couldn’t blame him. I was fucking everything up and I knew it. I sighed, “The three new ones will definitely be finished. If I hustle, I can get the other three finished too.”
“You’ve only got a few weeks to do it, Christos. Is that going to be enough time?” He said it like he knew it was impossible but he was being too polite to call me on it.
“I hope so,” I said quietly.
Brandon eyed me like I’d gone from being his hot property to a thorn in his side in the span of five minutes.
Because I had.
I felt bad. I was taking a huge risk with my new artistic direction. Brandon didn’t deserve the stress I was piling on him. Despite the fact he annoyed me at times, he’d always been good to me and my family over the years, and he’d been counting on me to deliver a certain amount of work in a certain amount of time. Now I was blowing my deadline. But what the fuck. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life painting for other people.
I thought the whole point of this artist thing was to do what you wanted?
Fuck.
Maybe I was being a bit too narrow minded in my view of things.
SAMANTHA
Madison and Jake had already gone home from the gallery because they were getting up early to surf in the morning. Romeo was chatting with Dillon and Kamiko out back in the sculpture garden. Now that Kamiko’s painting had sold, she was ready to relax.
I wandered around in the main gallery, still entranced by all the art. It blew my mind that so many people had sold paintings tonight. Most of them were inexpensive by gallery standards, ranging between $500 and $3,000. That meant Kamiko’s had been one of the higher priced pieces to sell. I was so proud of her.
Maybe one day, I’d sell a painting for a thousand dollars.
Out the corner of my eye, I noticed Tiffany stumble toward the entrance. She looked totally drunk. I think she was leaving, but she was in no shape to drive.
I ambled toward the doorway as she left, watching her sway onto the sidewalk outside. Maybe she would wrap her car around a telephone pole on her way home and I wouldn’t have to worry about her getting me kicked out of college at my upcoming SDU tribunal hearing.
I sighed.
As much as I hated Tiffany, I couldn’t let her drive home totally drunk.
Then I noticed her stumble into a guy smoking a cigarette outside. He wore a tattered leather jacket and was leaning against a parking meter. She leaned into him and clutched the lapels of his jacket. He looked surprised. But then he took a good look at Tiffany and a smile crept across his face. He dropped his cigarette and tamped it out with his boot. I guess Tiffany knew him because he put an arm around her waist and held her up.
There were two young women smoking outside, huddled together and talking to each other. Had the jacket guy been talking to them when Tiffany came outside? I wasn’t sure. Odd.
Three guys from inside the gallery walked past me, laughing at something one of them had said as they stepped onto the sidewalk. Jacket guy stared at them. One of the three guys nodded at him and said, “Hey.”
Jacket guy nodded back.
“There you are!” Romeo said from behind me. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I think Dillon and Kamiko needed some private time, so I left them alone in the sculpture garden. Besides, I couldn’t take any more cartoon talk. They’re still talking about Adventure Time. I think Kamiko is in love. Do you want to see if the bar has any booze left?”
“Sure,” I said absently as Romeo grabbed my hand and pulled me inside the gallery.
We walked toward the bar. The crowd had thinned substantially. People were heading out the door. It wouldn’t take long to get a drink. Not that I was going to have any alcohol. I was the designated driver tonight.
Tiffany.
Jacket guy.
Something about that hadn’t looked right.
“I’ll be right back, Romeo,” I said to him, pulling my hand free from his. I danced past several people strolling casually toward the door.
By the time I was on the sidewalk, I knew something was wrong.
Tiffany and jacket guy were gone.
“Tiffany?”
I whipped my head left and right. I didn’t see her. I turned to the two girls still smoking outside. “Did you see which way that girl with the platinum blonde hair and white dress went?”
One of the smoking girls said, “You mean the chick with that guy in the leather jacket?”
“Yes.”
“I think they went that way,” she pointed with her cigarette.
“Thanks.” I took off at a dead run.
Oh my god, Tiffany.
Now that I was thinking about it, Jacket guy had looked a little too mangy to be her type.
“Tiffany!” I shouted.
I passed an alley and stopped. I peered down it into darkness. I didn’t see her. And I didn’t see anything they could be hiding behind like a dumpster or trashcans or whatever.