by Haley Travis
“What do you mean?” she asked softly.
“I really like this artist’s work, and she is so excited about her first show, but hadn’t made any sales yet,” I said quickly. “Once people see that one painting is sold, it sometimes starts a chain reaction, so it will be good for her. They’re all the same price, so the gallery is throwing it on my credit card now. I just need you to pick which one you like best.”
She laughed, then attempted to be stern. “Your generosity is larger than your dedication to our cheap evening out? Okay. I guess I can’t fault you for that.”
“It won’t be delivered until the show ends in a few weeks, so can we pretend it doesn’t count?”
She scowled, letting me sweat for a few seconds before her arms flew around me. “Using your money to support indie artists is always a good thing. I’ll let you get away with this one.”
I relaxed, and held her tightly for longer than I expected as relief washed through me. “I appreciate your lax rules. Where do we need to hang another painting?”
We wandered around the show again and finally selected a deep purple and green piece with a strange symbol that looked organic, but dangerous.
“I think it’s an alien sword,” I whispered.
“I think it’s a plant that swoops in and slashes evildoers,” she giggled.
“Do you want this for your room?”
“We can figure that out when we get home,” she said.
My hand was around her waist a lot more than usual, and it was interesting trying to come to terms with the fact that we were just cuddly now. I knew that it was wrong that I wanted more, and should be careful with these things that we were pointedly not discussing.
Our honeymoon had shaken so many things loose for us, and made it obscenely obvious how much we wanted each other. But as honest as we were, neither of us seemed to have the nerve to admit that we had real feelings for each other.
At least, I was pretty sure that she did. The way she looked at me took my breath away. But she was so bold about some things. Why wouldn’t she say something?
We left the gallery arm in arm without even thinking about it. “Where to now?” I asked.
She looked up at me in utter delight. “I love that you have your default set to yes.”
“What?”
She grinned. “The girls and I were talking once about people who have default reactions. Some people are very fussy and negative, and as soon as you suggest something, they’re already answering no. Some people are genuinely up for anything. If you ask, ‘Hey, do you want to…’ they’re already mentally saying yes even though you haven’t finished the thought.”
I laughed, giving her arm a squish. “You’re right. You could be taking us bowling. To a ska band. To a play about the history of button making. I’d be up for anything.”
“It’s amazingly refreshing. I’ve never been out with a guy like that.”
We both paused for breath at the realization that this was our first real date. I quickly continued, “I’m glad that I amuse you. So, where to?”
“Are you hungry?”
“Always.”
“Chinese food?” she asked hopefully.
“Sure. I know a great place a few blocks west,” I said.
“But I know a very cheap place northwest.”
“Okay. How much do we have left?”
“Thirty-three dollars.” She seemed fine with this amount.
“Yikes,” I muttered.
“Yes. So we’ll be getting the special, no matter what it is. We might need to take the streetcar home, and that’s three twenty-five each.”
Thankfully the special of the day was beef and broccoli noodles, which we both adored. We chatted constantly all through dinner, and I realized that meals with Mia were slower because we couldn’t stop talking. She was consistently the best companion ever.
M I A
<<< 40 >>>
BIG QUESTIONS
I pushed my empty plate away and took a deep breath before I began the conversation that was making me nervous for some reason. “So, now that the wedding is over, what should I do for the next eleven and a half months?”
Jacob smiled gently, those smoky eyes seeming like they looked right through me. “Whatever you want.”
I giggled, suddenly feeling oddly girlie. “I somehow knew you were going to say that. But seriously. You know I can’t just shop and lounge. I need to do something productive. Any thoughts?”
He contemplated for a moment. “More education, if you wanted.”
I laughed. “I have enough University learnin’ stuffed in my head for now. I don’t think I need anything else for the moment.”
“Is there anything creative you’d like to do? Paint? Write a novel?”
“I’ve always written, and I’ll likely work on some things. But I need a reason to leave the condo. I need to interact with people, do something productive.”
He nodded, thinking. “My mother is on a lot of charity committees…” He held up his hand as I began to open my mouth. “I’m not suggesting you work with her,” he laughed. “But she would know if anyone really needed some help right now.”
“But most of those sorts of groups would be filled with people like your mom.”
“So?”
“So I’d feel out of place, being the only one out of the loop.”
“So get into the loop.”
I didn’t have the energy to explain to him that I couldn’t just pick up on years of being spoiled, and pretend I belonged with those people. Then I was hit with a thought that was almost a punch to the chest. I really had to stop thinking of ‘those people’ as if I wasn’t included. I gave my head a shake.
“Is there anything at your company where you need any help? Choosing art maybe?”
“Sorry. We redecorated last year.”
We both sipped our water in comfortable silence while we thought.
“I guess I could start researching my career path, but I’m not sure if I should be working steady hours right now when you might need me for wifely duties.”
Jacob stared out the window for a moment, looking so gorgeous and dreamy in the softening light that it was actually physically difficult for me to not jump up and kiss him. Holding back from being with him for the rest of the year was going to be the biggest challenge of all.
He turned to me with a grin. “You said that some of your friends were great artists and musicians, and it’s a shame that they didn’t have more support. What if you supported them?”
“How do you mean?”
“You’ve said that showing up for your friend’s shows gives them a boost – just that they know you care. What if you were, I don’t know what you’d call it, but sort of a booster? A cheerleader? You have money now. You could help with posters and get merch printed for the bands. Get fancy invitations for the art openings. Make really nice programs and posters for indie theatre events. Put real ads on local websites.”
My jaw fell open. “I... I would love that. But it would really cut into my portion of the money, and if it’s to last me….”
“No way,” he cut me off. “You’re my wife for the year, and no matter what it costs, I guarantee it would be less than any other wife would spend during the first year of marriage since you don’t want to redecorate.”
“Are you serious?”
His eyes were blazing with joy at being able to help me, which was so sweet that I felt myself blushing slightly. “Absolutely.” He grinned saucily. “If you like, we can buy you a less than top of the line car to compensate.”
I stared at him, aghast. “You’re not buying me a car at all.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t need one. I walk everywhere. And you’ve set me up with that car service, so if I did need a lift now and then, that’s fine.”
“Okay then. Wife, I demand that you spend the amount of a fancy car on all of your friends and acquaintances creative endeavors.” His phoney pompous to
ne was so hilarious that I shook with laughter.
“That’s going to be the only order from you I ever obey.” Taking his hand, I gave it a squeeze. “Thank you, Jacob. Really.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he chuckled. “And now you can be my connection to the indie arts scene, and tell me about events I should go to.”
“In the front row, of course.”
“Naturally.”
I stared into my water glass, processing. “I could get artists from different disciplines to help each other. Form a collective. Strength in numbers, and bring all of their friends and fans into the circle.”
Jacob slipped a pen from his pocket and set it on a napkin in front of me, waiting patiently while I scribbled ideas.
I’d run many projects over the years, from artsy websites to fundraisers to cabarets. But I’d never started a real business. On the other hand, I was used to making things happen with no budget and no connections to people who were the movers and shakers.
The next morning, I sat on the balcony with a cup of tea and a notebook, thinking about what Jacob would do. He would analyze the situation and use all resources. Which is exactly what any of my friends would do, it’s just that Jacob had far more resources. Was there any logical reason why I couldn’t, or shouldn’t, do the same?
I made a list of everything I’d need to get started. For people to take me seriously, I’d need an office space. At our cocktail party, Jacob’s friend Dave mentioned that he was having trouble renting a few small offices along Queen Street West. He had said that companies who wanted to look flashy needed big glass windows, and companies who wanted to look funky wanted the giant brick and beam warehouse-style spaces.
The offices he’d been trying to lease were just nice little beige spaces with a couple of average windows, and were on the second floor, but there was no elevator.
I quickly sent him an email describing the arts collective I was starting, and if we could make a deal on the smallest space he had. I told him that the collective was on a tight budget, but we’d be happy to leave with a month’s notice if he suddenly had a tenant that wanted to take up all of the spaces.
Two hours later, I was touring the space with Dave, and making a deal for around fifty percent off what the lowest priced office in the best location should be. It was just a huge rectangular room, with a tiny washroom and storage room at the back end, but one wall was all brick, and there were two giant windows right on Queen Street. The concrete floor looked industrial chic, and indestructible. The long beige wall could easily be brightened up with some paintings, or more likely, huge planning charts.
“I’ll take it. This is perfect.”
“This is wonderful, Mia. I work with this landlord on many properties, and this is the only one that seems to be cursed. Once you jazz it up a bit and make it look lived in, would it be okay if I brought prospective renters for the other spaces by for a glance to see the potential?”
“Absolutely. I’d be delighted to help.”
Just like that, I had an office. And an unnamed business. And plans.
Although it was happening far too fast, I figured if I could get married immediately, I might as well start a business immediately. For the first time ever, I had absolutely nothing to lose, and a complete safety net. I felt so secure that it was almost unnerving.
JAC OB
<<< 41 >>>
WORKAHOLIC WIFE
Mia always astounded me, but her work ethic was incredible. A week after she had the idea, she had rented a tiny office above a plant store, and already had at least ten “clients”.
I left work early Wednesday afternoon and surprised her with a huge arrangement of flowers as she opened the door. “Oh my goodness, hi!” she exclaimed, genuinely shocked. “Thank you so much!”
“I hope this arrangement is up to your standards,” I joked.
“These are lovely, thank you.” She set them on the coffee table, waiting while I took a look around. It was hard to tear my eyes from her, looking so effortlessly sexy in a flowy black dress with chunky leather wristbands, her hair tousled and wild.
There was a huge desk at the back with a laptop, and a huge external monitor, plus two bookcases half full of books and boxes, and several chairs. The front area had a couple of huge coffee tables, three mismatched couches, and a few more folding chairs tucked in the corner.
Everything looked second hand, but it blended together in a bohemian riot of colors and textures.
“This is so comfortable,” I said. “Funky and low key, but chill. Like a cottage living room.”
She laughed merrily. “Precisely! You know the cottage is where everyone’s old furniture goes to retire. I made it a condition with my artists that they have to help this collective if they want to join. They hauled in the furniture, found the little fridge and coffee pot at the back, everyone brought mugs, chairs, books.”
“Mia, that’s amazing.”
“But it’s not just that.” Her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “All of the artists are going to help each other. A DJ is providing music for an art opening. A guitarist is also a graphic designer, so they’re doing the programs for a play. Now that everyone is connected, they’re all finding ways to boost everyone. And they are easily quadrupling the reach of their email lists by casually mentioning each other’s projects whenever they send out a blast, and inviting everyone to the main collective list which I’ve just started.”
My arms circled her without thinking, pulling her against my chest as I kissed the top of her head.
“You’re the hardest working woman I’ve ever met,” I said softly. “You couldn’t believe how much I admire you.”
She grinned up at me, and suddenly we were kissing. It was so natural, so perfect. Her lips were deliciously soft, her body dissolving against mine as her hands gripped the back of my hair, urgently pulling me tighter. Her light feminine scent filled me and I wanted to devour her whole.
Backing up with tiny steps, she led me to the couch. I laid over her, our lips never parting. My hand grazed her side, settling over her breast while she released a long, low sigh. Watching her eyes as I pinched her nipple gently through her dress, her head fell back with a moan. Then she leaned forward, crushing her lips against mine.
Feeling how much she wanted me, needed me, was intoxicating. Every inch of our bodies needed to be naked and together right this second. My hand found her inner thigh, sliding up gently until her tiny moan caused my pulse to race with desire.
Boot steps began stomping up the stairs to the office. In a heartbeat we were sitting beside each other politely.
She jumped up as she saw who it was through the half glass door. “Bryce, come on in!”
A lanky young man with shaggy hair entered. “Hey Mia, I’ve got the layouts done. I emailed them to Kevin late last night, and he proofed them. They’re good to go.” He handed her a USB key.
“You’re the best!” She turned to me. “Bryce, this is my husband Jacob.”
He suddenly straightened up, shaking my hand rather formally. “It’s good to meet you.”
“Good to meet you too. You must be in a band?” He nodded. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Congrats on the office Mia, I really like it.” I gave her a hug, and a quick kiss. “Let me take you out to celebrate.”
“Or we could order in,” she said casually, but I caught the mischievous spark in her eyes.
“Whatever my lovely wife wants.” Clapping Bryce on the shoulder as I went by, I said, “Best of luck with the band.”
“Thanks, man.”
I walked quietly down the stairs, not being able to resist listening in.
“You weren’t kidding, girl,” he said, his voice a bit higher. “He is freaking gorgeous.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” she giggled.
“Are you kidding? My boyfriend would spank me if he so much as caught me glancing at that man. Wow.”
“Yeah, but you’d love it.”
It was extremel
y difficult to hold in my laughter until I was safely out on the street.
JAC OB
<<< 42 >>>
MIA’S BIRTHDAY
A few days later, I came home from work to find Mia sitting on the couch, writing in her new notebook with a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of her.
“Hey, how was your day?” she asked brightly. The way her face always lit up with delight when I came in the room warmed my heart in ways I didn’t even know were possible. She was too adorable to be real.
