“Well, a man only matures with every single scar that is engraved on his heart.”
“You talk like you have many?”
“Only a few. Perhaps some are not mine.”
Olivia wasn’t sure what he meant, but let it slide. She studied him in silence, wondering what to expect from Nick. It came to her only when his eyes diverted away from the canal back to hers. Even though it was dark outside, his eyes were so transparent it reminded her of a clear pool of water that she desired to get lost in. He revealed something that wasn’t easy to share, taking a chance and hoping that there would be no judgment … which meant he trusted her.
That was why she could confine her darkest secret and was safe to unravel herself. Olivia opened then closed her mouth, not sure what to say next. What could she say? Then she realized all she could offer him was her honesty.
“That night when I walked into your bar, I had just found out that my fiancé, Dario, had been cheating on me for the last three months.”
His eyes softened.
“That’s not the worst part …” She shook her head. “The worst part is I let him treat me like hell for the entirety of our relationship.” She paused. “I never imagined myself to be that kind of girl who allows someone to mistreat them. I never thought I was so weak.”
He devoured the air, as though he felt her pain or at least came close to it.
“Sometimes … we want something so badly we are willing to walk through shards of broken glass. That desire to be loved … it’s so blinding. It’s easy to be misguided. I don’t think you’re weak, Olivia. You should never feel ashamed, not for wanting to be loved.”
Olivia looked away because for a moment she thought she might cry. He placed a hand on hers, and she looked up.
“Do you know what happens after the glass breaks?”
She shook her head.
“You clean it up … and life moves forward.”
The last thing Nick hoped for was a pair of cold, gray eyes peering back at him. It was a look Nick recognized too well, the kind his mother used to give him when he did something questionable. But the last person in the world Nick expected to find at the door of his studio would be James Montiano.
“Nick, did I catch you at a bad time? I found myself in the area and thought maybe since I’m here I could see your work.”
Nick hesitated because he was on his way out, wanting to get cleaned up before meeting Olivia for lunch. He hoped it would be quick and painless.
“No … not at all. Come in.” Nick closed the door behind him. Something told him this surprise visit was going to be more than just about his art.
“Is there anything particular you’re looking for? I do commission work as well.”
James wore a black wool coat on top of a navy suit, like he walked out of a board meeting. Nick pitied men who followed convention, confining themselves behind a desk. That kind of profession would be a menace to Nick’s sanity. If he had to wear a suit with a tie, surely by the end of the day he would want to hang himself with it. He couldn’t think of a duller pursuit of life, but he would never consider James Montiano a dull man.
“What can I do for you, James?”
“Please call me Mr. Montiano,” he said as he brushed past Nick. “Only those who are close to me, call me James.” Nick’s brows elevated, James didn’t have to say more to know where his position with Olivia’s father stood.
He slid on his silver-frame glasses, making his way around the small room.
Nick had rapidly outgrown the tiny studio in the last few weeks, filling the space up with new paintings, all of which were now leaning against the once white wall. He’d finally broken through the dry spell.
He glanced around his studio, cringing at the dirty rags and empty spray cans scattered on the floor. The paint stains all over the floors and walls were a testament to his productive night. Nick wondered if Olivia had anything to do with it because she was never far from his thoughts. It seemed she was the spark in the fire that he needed.
“Don’t mind the mess. I would have tidied up if I knew you were coming.” Nick continued to clean his hands with a rag.
“Don’t worry, son. I’m not here to judge. I’m more interested in your work than anything else.”
James took his time pacing around the room, which started to play with Nick’s patience.
“Nice little place you have. What’s the square footage?” James’s eyes bounced around the space.
“Ah … man, I don’t know.” Nick exhaled the breath he’d been holding. “About three hundred square feet … roughly.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
James nodded. “You must pay a pretty penny to rent this place.”
“Jesus, yeah … it doesn’t come cheap that’s for sure.” Nick sat on the edge of his desk.
“What does this place run you? About five dollars a square foot?” James pulled his glasses off, swinging them around.
“Something like that.” Nick frowned, wondering what the interrogation was leading up to. “It’s convenient for me. I live in one of the apartments upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” Something in James voice made him think he wasn’t thrilled about that idea. Nick was smart enough to know this visit somewhat related to Olivia.
“My daughter Olivia, works just up the street.” His eyes were fixed in such a manner that Nick knew he was searching for some kind of confirmation. When James took a glance at the canvas Nick had been in the middle of working on, James got all the confirmation he needed. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Nick glanced at his fingers and picked at the paint on his cuticles. “Sure … I remember her telling me,” Nick said.
“How did you know where to find me?” Nick asked.
“You left me your business card. Don’t you remember?” James smiled, but not a kind one.
“Ah … yes … it slipped my mind.” He wished he hadn’t left the damn card.
The air grew dark, and Nick began to feel unpleasantly tense. It was evident that James didn’t like him. The expression on his face and his demeanor said it all. Nick was intimidated by James, not because who the media portrayed him to be, but because he was Olivia’s father. He had never any issues with fathers of girlfriends past. Nick actually got along with Chloe’s dad, but then again he was never around. Nick fully comprehended that James Montiano was a different caliber of fathers. James Montiano was a man who understood the weight of providing for his family. Nick could fully appreciate that; it was something he never knew but desired. And it seemed reasonable to expect that a man like James would think Nick wasn’t suitable for his own daughter. Every good father wanted what was best for their daughter.
That made James Montiano the gate keeper, and Nick was at a disadvantage.
“Ah … this strikingly resembles my daughter …” James took a step back to fully appreciate the painting.
Nick wasn’t going to lie. He wasn’t sure what Olivia had told her father about him, but then again there wasn’t much to tell. Their relationship was platonic. Maybe it would never lead to anything.
“Well, it’s not finished yet.” Nick placed his hand on the back of his neck, feeling warmth and dampness.
James studied the canvas once more. “You’re very talented.”
“Thank you.”
“A close friend of mine has a gallery on La Montage Street. Les Atelier Belmont. Have you ever heard of it?
It was one of the best exclusive galleries in the city, and it was tough for an artist to get representation, even with Nick’s past credentials.
“I think he would be quite interested in seeing your work. If you want, I could put in a good word for you.”
Nick could feel his eyes light up. “Yes, that would be most appreciated.” He paused. “That would really help me get my career back on track.”
Coming from someone like James, who was well connected, it would make a hell of a difference in his career. Nick couldn’t help but wonder why
he was being so generous. There had to be a catch. He knew people like James always had an angle, a way of getting things from people, or else they wouldn’t be successful.
“Well, it shouldn’t be so hard. You’ve made a name for yourself in the art world, Mr. Montgomery.”
“No, I wouldn’t say that.” Nick was being modest.
James arched his eyebrows in question. “You had an accomplished but short-lived career.” He removed his glasses and kept them open in his hands. “At eighteen you took a traditional academic training approach, traveling to the world’s greatest museums to study the masters’ paintings up close. After a year of travel, you came back to Montreal. At twenty, you had your first showing at Galleries Le Roy, which led to other viewings in galleries all over the world.” James began to slowly pace around the room. “You also sold your work to private and public collectors. Your work hangs alongside prized works of such as Dali and Picasso. Yes, I would call that quite accomplished, wouldn’t you?” He touched the bridge of his nose.
“Wow, that’s impressive … you really did your homework.”
“I make it my business to know who my children surround themselves with.” James paused to place his glasses back on his face.
“But there is one thing I don’t quite understand. Your career started to take shape and you simply faded into the background. In your choice of profession, it takes time before gaining a comfortable income. A year of traveling would be quite expensive, especially for someone who had no real source of income.”
“Get to the point, Mr. Montiano.”
“What I’m trying to understand is how you supported yourself all that time … all this time?”
“No offense, but I don’t think that’s any of your concern.”
“Olivia is my concern, and since she decided on you …” He glared back at Nick.
“Are you accusing me of doing something illicit?” Nick sucked the air between his teeth.
“I don’t know. You tell me?”
Nick was being accused by a crook? Fuckin’ brilliant. He quickly reminded himself that this was the father of the girl he liked. He needed to be the bigger man.
“Look, I don’t think I owe you any explanation on how I support myself, so let’s cut to the chase, James … I know you’re not interested in my work. Why are you here?”
“On the contrary. I am very interested in your work. What I’m not interested in is you spending time with my daughter.” He paused. “You have to understand, it’s a very confusing and delicate time in her life right now. I know when she comes to her senses she will go back to her fiancé … five years, you just don’t throw that away, Mr. Montgomery.”
Nick clenched his jaw and decided it was best to stay silent. He knew that if he talked, it wouldn’t help his cause.
“To be honest, I’m very concerned that my daughter doesn’t know the full truth about you. I have a feeling you have something to hide, and I want to know what it is.”
“I have nothing to hide. If you want to know something, then just fuckin’ ask me—”
“What’s your business with my daughter?”
“That’s something you’re going to have to ask Olivia about.”
“But I’m not asking my daughter. I am asking you!”
Nick diverted his eyes back to his hands.
“Does my daughter know about your interesting past?”
Nick’s eyes flashed back up. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of dirt you think you’ve got on me, but Olivia is aware of everything she needs to know.” Nick cleared his throat, knowing it wasn’t entirely true, but James didn’t need to know that. He sat on the edge of his desk in silence, thinking of a way to make James believe he wasn’t the bad guy.
“Olivia is an amazing girl, and I respect your daughter. I would never do anything to hurt her.”
“My daughter is too good and vulnerable. She is very impulsive, which leads her to make the worst choices.”
“Well, you give her less credit than she deserves. She’s not as vulnerable as you think.”
“Mr. Montgomery, maybe you’ll know it for yourself one day, and I wish that for you, but a father knows what’s best for their children, and you, my boy, are definitely not what she needs.”
“Maybe you should let Olivia decide what’s best for herself.”
James laughed in a condescending way. “I know men like you, who look for an opportunity like Olivia, taking advantage of her money and connections.” He paused. “Mr. Montgomery, you do understand what I’m capable of doing for you? Stay on my good side and there will be endless opportunities I will pass your way. Go against me and well … you will find many closed doors.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Oh, you bet your life it is, Mr. Montgomery!” He glared. “What kind of future can you offer Olivia? She’s not a simple girl with simple needs. She’s going to want more. What are you going to do then?”
Nick could feel his heart beating. It took everything in him to stay in control. When he laid down the facts in his head, he knew if he acted out of anger there would be repercussions. He quickly decided he wasn’t going to give James any more reason to dislike him. No matter what James did or said, Nick would refrain from stepping over the line.
“I don’t plan to work at a bar forever.”
“Mr. Montgomery, dreams won’t feed you.” James’s voice softened.
“I care very much for Olivia …”
“Well, now I’m glad to hear we’re on the same page. You’re a smart man, Mr. Montgomery. If you care for her as you say you do, then I know you’ll do the logical thing. Don’t take it the wrong way, son. It’s not that I have anything against you. I’m only protecting what’s mine. Trust me, I’m doing you a favor by telling you … you need to let her go.”
Nick considered himself a rational person. He needed to look at it through James’s eyes if he wanted to understand the situation. He was conscious of James disposition and knew Olivia’s father was acting out of fear—the fear of not being there for his children. James was fighting against time, putting everything in its place before his illness robbed him not only of his life, but also of fatherhood. No matter how old their children were, fathers took care of them. Nick didn’t need to dig deep to understand this. Towards the end of his mother’s life, she expressed the same urgency. She agonized over whether Nick would take care of himself when she was gone.
As for Olivia, it was already too late. Nick was in too deep. James Montiano would have to do his worst … Nick wasn’t planning on walking away. He’d stay as long as she wanted him in her life.
“I will be taking the one that resembles my daughter … you may take the time to decide on the amount. My secretary will be in touch.” With a nod James was out the door.
Nick hadn’t realized how long he sat there on the edge of his desk.
Half an hour later Olivia called and canceled their lunch plans. She blamed it on a last-minute meeting at work, but Nick knew better … This had something to do with the gate keeper.
It was one thing to cancel her plans with Nick, but it was another to lie to him. Olivia had good reasons. When her father called her, wanting to meet up for lunch, she really couldn’t say no. Not really wanting Nick to tag along, because then she would have to explain her relationship, which at the moment she wasn’t sure of herself.
So a little white lie was much easier.
Growing up, her father was the one who hid her from the world, shielded her from all its brutes and ugliness, and he did it with the greatest ease. Her father had a gentle voice. As far back as she could remember, he never once ever raised his voice to any of his children. Maybe he never needed to because when he spoke for one reason or another, they always listened to what he had to say.
Her relationship with her mother, on the other hand, could be challenging at times … but she didn’t love her mother any less. Her dad just got her and it was an easier relationship. Lately she felt they’d been living
in different worlds … partially because she began to see slight changes in him.
“Is everything okay with you?” her father asked from across the table.
“Everything is fine,” she said, not entirely truthful, as she played with the tip of her ponytail.
“I feel like you don’t come and talk to me like you used to,” he said.
He was right. Ever since she broke it off with Dario, she tried to avoid alone time with her dad, for fear of this exact moment. She knew it was just a matter of time before she needed to face the music.
“That’s not true,” she said.
“Do you remember when you were six and we were at Grandpa’s farm and you had discovered this old, rusty, gold bike inside that green barn?”
Her father called it a farm, but technically it hadn’t been a functional since 1977, when her grandparents purchased the seventy-five acres. Her grandfather had intended to grow vegetables for himself and their family. It was a way of life in his old country, a hobby in his new country. She remembered as a child driving over the Mercier Bridge out of Montreal and half an hour of winding country roads. You knew when you were close because you could see the forest green barns from a distance.
She smiled. “Yeah, Daddy, I remember.”
“It was too big for you to ride, you barely touched the pedals, but you were so determined to get on that bike and ride it.”
“I remember you tried to help me ride it that summer. I don’t know how many times we went up and down that dirt road.” She smiled at the fond memories of summer days at her grandparents’ farm.
“Yes, after all, you didn’t need my help to ride that bike. You needed my support, but you wanted your freedom,” he replied.
“By the end of the summer I managed to ride it on my own.”
“Yes, you did. I even bought you a new bike. You didn’t care for it much, though. All you wanted was that rusty, gold bike.” He smiled. “You’ve always been that way, huh Liv?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I loved that bike.” It had been special to her and was one of the few memories she had of her dad. Growing up, he had been busy building his business from the ground up. Olivia didn’t have any resentment toward him for it, she just missed him.
The Proverbial Mr. Universe Page 15
