Silver & Gold

by A. D. Ellis

  I huffed. After a few days of playing the scene between Rhys and me over in my head, I came to my best friends to whine and bitch and commiserate, but they weren’t commiserating, they were giving me the third degree as if Rhys turning me down was my fault. “I asked him if the lease screw-up hadn’t happened if he thought we would have kept going with whatever we had. He said probably not because we would have become competitors and been busy with our own studios.” I took a breath. “So, like an idiot, I asked ‘What about now?’”

  “And?” Sage asked.

  “He replied, ‘Not exactly competitors now, but still swamped and need to focus on the studio. Right?’ What was I supposed to say to that?” I took the last bite of cereal and stood to take my bowl to the sink. “Like, he says we need to focus on the studio and I’m supposed to what? Throw myself at him and beg to go back to what we might have had? I liked him, the sex was amazing, but things weren’t perfect so maybe I’m putting too much stock in what we maybe had. I gave him the perfect opportunity to say he wanted to keep seeing me.” I tossed my bowl in the sink with a clatter.

  “And he gave you the perfect opportunity to say that you wanted to keep seeing him.” Kyson was giving me a look that screamed Duh! when I returned to the living room.

  I scoffed. “Yeah, telling me we’ll be swamped and need to focus on the studio is a great opening for me to say I want more than that.” I ran a hand over my face. “I need to get over him and throw myself into my art.”

  “Do we need to spell it out?” Bode asked. “Dude, if he said ‘need to focus on the studio, right?’ then that’s the perfect opportunity to disagree, say you want something more.”

  I started to protest, but clamped my mouth shut. Shit. Were they right? I shook my head. “No, Rhys isn’t the type to play games and be coy.” I said the words, but I wasn’t one-hundred percent sure of them. Rhys never came across as unsure of himself when we were together, especially not in bed and conversations.

  But then again, I hadn’t realized how not confident he was in his work until we got thrown into sharing a studio. Maybe he wasn’t as sure of himself as I’d thought. Did he say what he said in hopes that I would disagree and give him an opening? Did he want things back to the way they were before?

  “You’ve never really been one to play games, either.” Kyson pointed at me. “I think you both like each other, want to be together, are fearful the other doesn’t want it as bad, and are using the studio as your excuse to break up before anything can get too serious.”

  I huffed, but really had no words. I picked up my phone and stuffed it in my pocket. “I’m going to the studio for last minute prep before the opening. You guys can all come at some point this weekend, yeah?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” Bode pulled Sage closer to his side and kissed his head. “We’ll be there throughout the weekend. Proud of you.”

  “Thanks. Oh,” I snapped my fingers, “were you able to put up any flyers?” I’d spent a day earlier in the week creating a flyer for The Silver and Gold Creative grand opening. Rhys had shocked me by saying he thought it looked great. Had a bunch printed and gave a few to the guys to share. Rhys and I had hung them in as many nearby businesses, libraries, and community spaces as we could find.

  “I put some up in the student union and library on campus. There’s also a few community happenings boards around campus so I hung them on there too.” Sage smiled shyly as Bode and Kyson nodded that they’d done their part with the flyers.

  “Thanks so much. Rhys shared a Facebook page with me, I’ll send it to you. Maybe you could share that too?” I kinda felt bad asking them to help so much, but I knew they didn’t mind and wanted to help. “He’s got a website going, we’re going to keep adding to it. He set up Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook.”

  “Send it all to us, we’ll share it all. I’ll shout you out from The Salty Lizard social media pages as well as from my personal ones.” Bode stood from the couch and roughed me up. “I know an art studio opening may not be as loud and obnoxious as a bar opening, but I think this will be a good weekend.”

  We said our casual goodbyes and I headed to the studio. My plan was to create for a while and then do some last-minute things to get ready for the grand opening.

  When I walked into the back room, I had to force myself to breathe. Rhys was deep in concentration, his face covered as he wielded the welding gun over his latest piece. My eyes appreciated the artistic work before being drawn to the way his jeans clung to his legs and ass. His broad chest and strong arms were definitely visible under his plain black t-shirt.

  My mind traveled back to one night we were cuddled in his bed. Our skin was damp with sweat, the room heavy with sex, but we’d finally caught our breaths and started laughing about stupid stuff we’d done as kids. We spent the next couple hours swapping stories of our youth and nothing had ever felt more natural or perfect.

  I never knew how people would react when they found out Kyson, Bode and I were each other’s first sexual encounters, but Rhys had listened, tossed the idea around for a moment and then nodded. “Really, if people took the time to think about it, it makes complete sense. The three of you were as close as any three kids could be. You trusted each other, you had these curiosities, what better way to explore than with people you know and love?”

  Now I watched Rhys immersed in his work and wished once again we could go back to those amazingly close and comfortable conversations after sex. Yes, most of our great talks were after sex, but I could totally see us expanding to dinner and movie dates in addition to spectacular sex.

  My ass clenched and my dick took notice as I continued to creep on Rhys and recall the sex we’d shared. He was so gorgeous and smart and overall a good guy. Did he have some self-absorbed issues? Sure. But I did too. None of us were perfect. I missed the time we spent together. Maybe I just missed being with someone.

  I watched Rhys while I thought over that. I missed sex, I missed being with someone, but it wasn’t just that. I missed Rhys. Were we at that point of adulting where we had to push aside our wishes and desires in order to take care of the important things?

  Rhys looked up and froze.

  I smiled and waved. “Looks good.” Yeah, outwardly I meant the artwork. I wished he could know that I meant he looked good as well.

  “I don’t really like being watched.” Rhys frowned and glanced at his piece of work.

  I tensed immediately. “Sorry.” I held up my hands. “We now share a studio if you haven’t noticed. I’ll be here a lot. Just like I expect you will. I’m sorry for appreciating your work.” I watched him for a moment longer. “Promise not to steal it,” I sneered. God, I hated what this whole situation had done to Rhys and me, and I hated the way it had me acting.

  “Exactly why we should have divided up the studio so we’d both have separate, private workspaces.” Rhys wiped a bit of sweat from his brow with a cloth. “This shit isn’t going to work.”

  “Look, I was enjoying watching you work. The piece looks great, like always. No way I’m copying off you. One, I’m not that type of person. Two, if I tried what you do, it would just be a big glob. Chill the fuck out. Let’s give it a bit. If we find we can’t work around each other, we’ll hang curtain dividers or put up walls.” I gestured toward the ceiling. “I just hate to lose the openness of the space.”

  Rhys gave a quick nod, pulled his protective eye gear back in place and went back to working.

  I growled under my breath and headed to my pottery work station. I had several pieces at various stages of painting, glazing, and firing. I hadn’t used the wheel since moving into this studio and I was itching to get my hands into some clay. But I wasn’t in the mood right then. Probably for the best, wouldn’t want Rhys stealing my ideas. I snorted quietly to myself. What the actual fuck? We made completely different types of art, and even if we didn’t, I’d have no fear of him copying me and no plans to copy him. Surely his behavior just now had stemmed from his insecurity in his work
and maybe nerves about the opening.

  I shook my head as I set to work painting pieces ranging from earrings to vases to pots to coffee mugs. The nerves, I totally got. I was nervous about the opening. I was scared shitless that six months from now we’d be faced with closing. Or worse, and it wasn’t even something I’d allowed in my head until just that moment, I’d have to leave the studio to Rhys because he was doing great, but I was failing. A few sales of large pieces for him could keep him going for a month or so. If I only sold a coffee mug and earrings here and there, I’d be screwed. So, yeah. I understood the nerves.

  But I didn’t get his insecurity in his work. First, he always seemed so confident and self-assured when talking about his art. Second, he was so damn talented. How could he not see that?

  Maybe the confidence is a façade. Now that he’s faced with you seeing his work from conception to display floor, he’s feeling raw and vulnerable.

  I shrugged. Yeah, I could see that. We both needed some great interest in our art, some crazy good sales, and lots of customers coming in and also spreading the word to give us that boost of confidence and assuredness in this venture.

  For the first time, I realized just how stressed Bode had felt when he was opening The Salty Lizard and probably every day since. Owning your own business was not for the faint of heart. And putting your work out there for all to see was even worse.

  I definitely could empathize with Rhys. If all of that was the actual reason for his shitty attitude. But if he kept up his asshole routine, I wasn’t sure I could feel too bad for him or try to understand where he was coming from.

  Maybe the two of us would learn quickly that we were best off to be in the space together, but not try to mesh our work, our sales, or our talents.

  An hour later, I wasn’t even sure being in the space together was going to work. We’d gone from disagreeing on everything, to a productive working lunch and tentative truce, to now being snippy and snarky about everything.

  Every.

  Thing.

  Honestly, I was thinking we should maybe make up a schedule so we could be at the studio and avoid each other being there all together. I could work Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and half of Sunday. Rhys could work Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and the other half of Sunday.

  I seriously contemplated bringing up the idea, but Rhys seemed to be biting my head off at every suggestion, and no doubt he’d think it was a devious plan to sell millions on my days alone in the studio.

  I sighed.

  Actually, if I was being honest—and no way was I willing to admit it—I was being just as snippy with him. Did it really matter that he’d put the sugar in a gold piece with a silver spoon when I’d planned to put the sugar in a silver piece with a gold spoon? No. No, it did not. But I’d gotten huffy over it anyway.

  “I thought the gold knobs would be best on that corner cabinet.” Rhys folded his arms over his chest.

  I took a deep breath and glanced toward the cabinet. “The silver ones look nice. We can’t hodge-podge the pieces all over the place. We need to look like we’ve got a plan and some sort of artistic eye. You know, since we’re artists trying to sell art?”

  “Agreed. But why are you making all the decisions? Did we discuss which knobs were going on which fixtures?”

  “No, I didn’t think to ask. I was probably busy wondering why you automatically stuck the sugar in the gold container instead of asking me where I wanted it.” I could have only sounded more childish if I’d stomped my foot and stuck out my tongue along with my tiny tirade.

  Rhys huffed. “Are you about ready to call it a day? We’ve got about thirty minutes of work left to do. I say we finish it, go home, and get some rest to be ready for tomorrow.”

  “Or maybe you just want me to go home so you can have the place to yourself? Maybe redo a bunch of the work I’ve done today to fit what you want?” I narrowed my eyes.

  Holy shit. Rhys had me acting as paranoid as he was.

  Rhys ran a hand over his face. “Look, we’re both nervous and clearly cranky. You take three gold items and I’ll take three silver items. We spread them out on the display floor in a way that looks good and then we go home. I need a breather.”

  “Crabby toddlers need their naps, huh?” I smirked. “Yeah, I could use a break. We’ve got this place as set up and ready as possible.” I held my hand out and took the three gold items.

  Thirty minutes later, Rhys and I stood in the middle of the room. We were still snippy, still snarky, still grumpy. Definitely still nervous. But the place looked amazing. There was nothing else to do except wait for the grand opening tomorrow and cross our fingers that customers, buying customers, showed up.

  I gave a reluctant nod of my head. Rhys returned the gesture. We moved toward the back door. I felt like I should say something inspirational on the eve of our big business venture’s opening. But Rhys just pushed open the back door and turned toward his place.

  With a sigh and a shrug, I did the same.

  “Dude, the place looks amazing,” Bode clapped me on the back and spoke lowly in my ear, “but you and Rhys need to try to at least appear to be business partners. It feels very divided in here. Not the displays so much, but the vibe between you two is not pulling in browsers and buyers.” My twin elbowed me. “Suck it up, Buttercup. No one is going to want to be in here, let alone purchase pieces or come back if they get an uncomfortable, hostile vibe. Share his work, introduce him to friends and customers, talk him up, present a united front.”

  When I started to protest, Bode held up a hand. “I get it. He’s being just as big of a baby’s ass as you are. But instead of both of you pouting that things didn’t go your way, smile and be a big boy. People need to see that this is a partnership, a beautiful blending of two artists and their work. You have to sell them on same but different. You and Rhys are similar but very different. Your work is different but has some definite similarities. You have to make it look like this was all put together for a reason and not just because of a goof-up.” Bode leaned in again. “If he’s not going to take the first step, you need to. For the benefit of your studio. Fake it ‘til you make it if you need to, but plaster on a smile and go sell these people on Rhys and Benji, on same but different, on The Silver and Gold Creative.”

  I took a deep breath, mulled over Bode’s words for a moment, and then smiled wryly. “Damn, you’d actually make a really good motivational speaker.” I nudged him with my hip. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if he doesn’t jump on board, I’m really not sure how long this place will survive.”

  Bode glanced toward where Rhys was standing with his older sister and chuckled. “From the look on his sister’s face, Rhys is about to get the same speech.” He shivered. “But I’m not sure she’ll be as nice as I was.”

  I moved away from Bode and began to chat with customers. I kept an eye on Caroline and Rhys. Once they appeared to be done speaking, I’d grab Rhys and we could work the room. Together. I wasn’t against this plan. Bode knew how to win people over, that was for sure. I just hoped Rhys wouldn’t be too resistant and give me a reason to want to strangle him.

  Let’s be real, you just want any and every reason to kiss him. Maybe he’ll give you that.

  I snorted and covered it by clearing my throat. Rhys most definitely did not seem to want anything to do with kissing me anymore. I pushed down the hurt and turned my smile up to mega-watt level.

  8

  Rhys

  “Smile,” Caroline purred in my ear, “and listen closely. You, my dear little brother, are being an absolute spoiled brat. Like a child asked to share his toy, or a brother jealous when his sibling gets more attention.” She curled her arm into the crook of my elbow. “Keep smiling, don’t let on that I’m giving you the angry mom treatment.”

  I plastered a smile on my face and chuckled as I whispered. “As long as you don’t dig your nails into my arm like Mom used to, I’ll play along.”

  Through a blinding stage smile, Caroline co
ntinued, “Oh, you’ll do more than play along. You and Benji are filling this place with unwelcoming, almost hostile, vibes. You need to fix it now. Mingle with him, introduce him to people, show off his work, talk him up.”

  I took in a breath to protest.

  “No, there is no argument on this one. Today, this weekend, is very important to your business. If people don’t feel welcome and comfortable, they won’t come back. No one needs to know you two were forced together because of a mistake. The entire place looks amazing and so very well meshed together. You both did an amazing job.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “But none of that matters one single iota if you and Benji are giving off such negative, pouty, and divided vibes.”

  “But,” I began.

  “No buts.” Caroline made as if she was straightening my collar and picking lint from my sleeve. “You’re going to glue yourself to Benji’s side. If I’m not mistaken, that gorgeous twin of his just gave him the same speech I’m giving you. So, push aside your self-absorbed selfishness for a bit and make this work.” She moved directly in front of me and held me by my shoulders. “Your work is amazing and it will sell, but you and Benji have to do more than co-exist, you have to be true partners.”

  My gut twisted. Business partners. We needed to be business partners. Then why did my heart flip-flop at the thought of Benji and I being partners in other ways? Business, friendship, love. I wanted them all. But did I even know how to do any of those?

  My sister leaned in to kiss my cheek. “And you two really need to be honest with each other about whatever it is that’s still brewing between you. It may be just under the surface and somewhat easy to ignore for now. But sooner or later, all of those wants and desires and feelings will come bubbling to the surface and make a big mess if you’re not prepared to handle them.”