by Robin Huber
“Bas, are you joking?”
He smiles wide. “Nope.”
“Shut up!” I squeal and jump to my feet, blinking back tears. “Oh, my God!”
Sebastian jumps up with me. “I know!”
“Aurelia Snow wants to showcase me? Really?”
“I wanted to tell you so badly, but I decided to wait until you got back so I could do it in person. I’m so glad I did, because the look on your face is priceless.”
“Oh, my God!” I shout and grab his arms.
We proceed to jump up and down together.
“Sebastian?” I stop and look at him, then I wrap myself around him and begin to cry softly.
“Lucy. Don’t cry.” He laughs and rubs my back.
I wipe my eyes. “You were right.”
“Of course I was,” he says, wiping the lenses of his round tortoiseshell glasses. He pushes them back on. “What was I right about?”
“The exhibit. Waiting to break off things with Drew until after it was over. Even though I did actually try to do it sooner.” I shake my head. “Sebastian, without the exhibit, there’s no way this would have happened.”
He smiles and says, “Thank God. I was kind of going out on a limb with that advice. But it just felt like the right thing to do.”
I sigh and fall back into a sitting position on the floor, feeling like I can finally exhale the breath I’ve been holding since I decided to host the exhibit. “Aurelia Snow wants to display my work in her studio for all of New York to see.” I reach for the contract and start scanning the paragraphs. “What piece does she want?”
“Sam.”
I give him a confused look. “What?”
“She wants Lionheart,” he says, sitting on the floor beside me.
“My painting of Sam?” I put the contract down. “Uh—” I huff, but Bas stops me.
“I know how you feel about the painting, Luc. You can always say no. But…” He squints his eyes and shrugs his square shoulders. “It’s not like she wants to buy it. It’ll just be on loan.”
“What if someone at the exhibit wants to buy it?”
“We’ll just have the contract amended to state that it’s not for sale, so it’ll be a nonissue.”
“I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know? This is your dream, Lucy.”
“It’s Sam, Sebastian. It feels wrong to put him on display for my benefit.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet again.
“What are you doing?”
“Follow me.” He drags me across the studio and stops in front of my painting of the Atlanta skyline that I originally painted with dime-store paints when I was seventeen. “Tell me about this painting.”
“You already know.”
“I forgot. Tell me again.”
I give him a funny look, but entertain him anyway. He’s obviously trying to make a point. I stare at the painting, thinking of how the colors make me feel, even now. The way the two halves of the canvas are divided by the shadowy outline of the Atlanta skyline that cuts across the crisp cobalt blue sky and drips carefully into the sultry magenta below.
“I was seventeen. Sam bought me some cheap paints and plastic brushes.” I smile thinking of the sweet gesture. “We climbed up on the roof of an old abandoned building in Brighton Park, and this is what we saw in the distance. Possibility.” I exhale a quiet breath. “The original was a little more rudimentary, but the colors were similar. I used red to represent love, because it was the only thing we had, and well, I was seventeen…it seemed like a romantic notion.” I laugh softly and point to the bottom of the painting. “We were way down here, stuck in that broken place, dreaming about a better life. And this”—I touch the top of the canvas thoughtfully—“this represented our future. Wide open, just like the sky that day.” I glance up at Bas, who’s studying the painting carefully. “What did I know?” I shrug.
“This is her second choice,” he says, keeping his gaze fixed on the painting.
“What?”
“I sent her a copy of every painting in your portfolio and this was her second choice.” He turns to me and lowers his chin, keeping his dark eyes on mine. “Sam is in all of your best work. Don’t you see that? You can’t take him out of it because he is what makes you so damn good.”
I release a small breath and nod in silent agreement.
“Sam is part of you, Lucy. Not just now because you’re together, but way back before anyone even knew who either of you were. He was one of the first people to see you for the amazing, talented artist you are. Isn’t it only right for him to be part of this?”
I nod and blink back tears of gratitude, for Sam, for everything we went through, for this incredible opportunity, and for Sebastian, who always helps me to see the truth through my uncertainty. “Yes.”
“First choice it is then.”
I swallow down my hesitation and agree, “First choice.”
Bas claps excitedly. “Okay, there’s more.” He hands me another document that looks a lot like the Aurelia Snow contract. “This is from a gallery in Dallas. It’s a little uppity, but they want to showcase you in an exhibit too!”
“Seriously? How did they even hear about me?”
He shrugs. “Your paintings made quite the impression after the exhibit got so much press. I’ve been fielding calls and sifting through emails since you and Sam left for Exuma. You’ve been invited to participate in seven exhibits, Lucy.”
“What? Really?”
“None of the others are quite Aurelia Snow, but they’ll showcase your talent none the less.” He smiles wide. “You did it, Luc.”
“I don’t believe it.” I smile back. “Thank you so much for handling all this while I was gone. I don’t know—”
“What you’d do without me. I know.”
“Seriously. I feel like such a slacker. I spent the last three weeks lying on a remote island with Sam, while you were here doing all this for me. I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t forget you pay me. Quite well.” He raises his eyebrows and smirks. “Speaking of lying on a remote island with Sam. Tell me everything!”
I sigh and slouch against his arm. “It was uh-mazing. I want to go back,” I whine. “It was like time stopped and the rest of the world just slipped away. We had no agenda, no alarm clock, no interruptions.”
“Sounds incredible.”
“It was. The days and nights just sort of blended together. But we spent a lot of the time swimming, because it was hotter than the surface of the sun.”
“Something tells me you did other things too.” He bites the end of his pen and widens his eyes playfully.
“Maybe.” I raise a suggestive eyebrow. “Maybe we did other things all over the island. On the beach. In the ocean. In every room of the magnificent house. Want me to keep going?”
“I get it.” He laughs. “You were making up for lost time.”
“Something like that.”
“Must have been nice to have a private island all to yourself,” he says wistfully.
“It was. I mean, it took a little coaxing from Sam to embrace the idea of being able to do whatever we wanted, wherever we wanted, but it was pretty freeing once I did.”
“I bet.”
“We did other things too, you know.”
“Like?”
“We just hung out together. We watched movies, listened to music, talked. We talked a lot. It was nice to be able to get to know each other again without any outside distractions. A lot has happened in our lives over the last ten years. It gave us a chance to fill in the gaps. And at the end of the day we just want to be together.” I smile. “He asked me to move in with him.”
I can see the hesitation in Bas’s eyes when he asks, “Are you going to?”
“Yes,” I say confidently. “I’ve given it a lot of thought and it’s what I want.”
“Good,” he says without judgment. “I’m happy for you, sweetie.” He gives my hand a squeeze, but I se
e a flicker of sadness in his eyes when he releases it.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
He sighs. “It’s just Paul. He and I have been fighting lately.”
“What? Why?”
“Because he’s decided that we should be parents now.”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “Oh.”
“That was my reaction too.”
“Sorry, I’m just surprised.”
“You and me both. I mean, we’ve talked about having a family one day, but not anytime soon. I’m twenty-nine—I thought I’d have at least another decade before bringing a baby into the mix.”
“Paul’s ready now?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “He’s thirty-five, which according to him, is when he always planned to start a family—something he probably should have mentioned to me before we got married.”
“Would it have changed your mind?”
“No,” he says with an exasperated huff.
“Well, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. He’s been researching options, and it’s a pretty long process. It could take years, whether we decide to adopt or go with a surrogate. And don’t even get me started on the cost.”
“I’m sorry. That sounds really stressful.”
“Well, Paul thinks that if we don’t start the process now, it could be five years or more by the time we actually have a baby.”
I press my lips together over a smile I can’t hide.
“What?”
“It’s just, the thought of you with a baby is kind of awesome. You’d make a great dad. So would Paul.”
“Okay, please don’t tell me you’re teaming up with Paul on this.”
“No.” I laugh softly. “I’m team Sebastian all the way. I’ll support you any way that I can. And provide babysitting services as needed.”
“Lucy.”
“Aunt Lucy.”
“Oh, my God. Stop.”
“Okay, but seriously, how am I ever going to take care of kids of my own if I don’t start practicing? This could be good for me. I don’t know anything about babies.”
“Me neither!”
“Well, sounds like you’re going to find out before I do.”
He narrows his eyes. “I missed you. But only a little.”
I shove his arm. “Mean.”
He laughs, and it chases the worry away from his face. “I really did miss you. A lot.”
“I missed you too. It was a wonderful, unexpected break from reality, but part of me felt off-kilter without you for so long. Especially when I needed some Sebastian-brand therapy.”
He pulls his dark eyebrows together over the rim of his glasses. “What for?”
“Oh, you know, just normal stuff, like realizing my boyfriend has more money than I’ll make in my lifetime. Worrying that I’m going to end up on the cover of In Touch magazine. And wondering what my jilted ex-fiancé plans to do with my beloved studio. Nothing quite as life-altering as having a child, but problems, nonetheless.”
He puts his hand under his chin thoughtfully and holds a curved finger over his mouth. “Well, you knew Sam had money. Why the sudden concern about it? Most people consider that a good thing.”
“I know. It’s definitely a very good thing, for Sam. But I’m not really comfortable with him spending it on me so freely. I mean, he wouldn’t hesitate to buy me a new studio altogether, if I let him. Which I won’t.”
“Funny, you didn’t have a problem letting Drew buy this one.”
“That was different. Drew bought it as an investment that we could eventually benefit from, jointly. It was meant to be a source of income for both of us. Sam’s motivation is just…me.”
“Just you?”
I shrug. “He knows how much my career means to me. He just wants to help.”
Bas sips his coffee and narrows his eyes at me. “So now that we’ve got that worked out.”
“No, Bas. I won’t let him buy me a studio. It’s going to be bad enough when people realize I don’t have my own money. Not the kind Sam has, anyway. I can just see the headlines now. Lucy Bennett…Gold Digger. It’s inevitable.”
Bas laughs and puts his coffee down. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
“Yes. You know that’s what everyone’s going to think. Where was she before he got famous? She’s only back with him because he’s got money now.” I close my eyes and try to drown out the imminent rumors before they consume me.
“Listen to me. You’re no longer just Lucy Bennett. You’re Lucy Bennett, up-and-coming contemporary realist artist and Sam Cole’s girlfriend. You don’t get the luxury of filtered thoughts and polite smiles anymore. You’re going to be judged loudly, and you’ll be criticized loudly. But you’ll also be loved loudly. Everyone who loves Sam will love you too, because they’ll see how much he loves you and how happy he is with you. Sure there are going to be people who call you a gold digger. But screw those people! You think Sam has only ever had nice things written about him? No. But there’s so much more good than bad. So, starting this very moment, I want you to make a vow to ignore any and all negative things written about you and focus on only the good things instead. Okay?”
I sigh. “Okay.”
“Say it. Out loud.”
“What? Bas.”
He grabs my hand and holds my open palm up in between us. “Repeat after me.” He clears his throat. “I, Lucy Bennett.”
“I, Lucy Bennett.”
“Promise to ignore all the negative, hateful things people might say or write about me.”
I pull my eyebrows together and repeat, “Promise to ignore all the negative, hateful things people might say or write about me.”
“You can put your hand down.”
I drop my hand and give him a small smile.
“Okay, that’s two issues resolved. What’s left?”
“Drew.”
“Well, we’ve established that Sam will not buy you a new studio.” He sighs. “So first order of business is buying this one from Drew.”
“Even if I can come up with the money, who’s to say he’ll sell it to me? Honestly, how can I even ask him to, after everything I put him through? I broke his heart. It would just be salt in his wounds.”
“He might be more forgiving than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
“He finally reached out to me.”
“He did? When?”
“Yesterday. Apparently Janice told him where you were. He knew you were on your way back.”
“Great.”
“He wasn’t upset. In fact, I thought he was going to ask me to close the doors to the studio, but he didn’t. He just wanted me to tell you that he was working on the building contract with his lawyer and that we should hear from him in a few weeks. He said in the meantime to keep running business as usual.”
“Really?”
“He also asked if I’d tell you something else.”
“What?” I ask, eager for more clues about the fate of my studio.
“That he misses you. And that it’s not too late.”
My shoulders slump. “Yes…it is.” I close my eyes and sigh. “I have to go talk to him. I need to get the rest of my things from his house anyway. Maybe then I can talk to him about buying the studio.”
“You want me to go with you?”
“No, I should go alone. I’ll go tomorrow morning.”
My phone rings, echoing across the studio, and I jump to my feet to answer it. I follow the strumming ringtone to the front of the studio and find it vibrating on the front desk. I’m startled to see a small sea of people standing outside on the sidewalk, staring at me through the glass windows. Several of them are holding professional cameras and others are holding up their cell phones, shouting at me.
Lucy, Lucy!…Where’s Sam?…How was your vacation?
I suck in a sharp breath and feel the room start to spin around me. I’m only vaguely aware that my phone is still strumming away and buzzing on the
desk when it vibrates off the edge and lands on the floor with a loud smack.
“What’s taking so long?” Sebastian asks, walking out of the back of the studio. “Oh, my God,” he gasps, and grabs my arm. “Lucy, go to the back. Now.”
“My phone.” I bend down to pick it up off the floor with shaking fingers and follow him to my office. My phone rings again and I answer it when I see who’s calling. “Sam?”
“Lucy, where are you?”
“I’m at my studio. Sam, there are people outside. They’re taking pictures.”
“Is Sebastian with you?”
“Yes. What’s going on?”
“Just stay with Sebastian. I’m two minutes away.”
“Okay.” I end the call and look at Sebastian. “Google Sam.”
“What?”
“Google Sam,” I repeat.
“Why?”
“One of them asked about our vacation. That no one was supposed to know about. Just Google him. Please. I can’t do it.”
He unlocks his phone and starts scrolling. “Lucy, you’re jumping to conclu—” His face falls and his eyes bounce around his screen. He looks up at me hesitantly. “There are pictures.”
The breath leaves my lungs in a dizzying rush. “Pictures of what?” I fumble for his phone, successfully snatching it out of his hand. “Oh, my, God,” I gasp when I see a picture of me and Sam on our private beach in Exuma. He’s carrying me into the water, kissing me, and I’m wrapped around him, practically naked in my bikini. “How?” I exhale a shocked breath and blink back tears. “How could they get this picture? How did they even know we were there?” I look at Sebastian with disbelief, feeling myself shrink under a cloud of violation.
“Lucy?!” Sam calls from the front of the studio.
“Back off,” I hear Miles shout, closing the door behind them. “Fucking vultures.”
Sam makes a beeline toward me, still wearing the sweats he was training in this morning. “Hey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I give Sebastian his phone back and let Sam envelop me in his arms, as if he can somehow hide me from the prying eyes of the entire world.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, fortified by his presence. “There could have been worse shots.”
