Picture Me Naked (Stoddard Art School Series)

by Lisa A. Olech

  “Fair enough. I’ve worked with artists for so long, I know better than to try and argue.” He took a business card out of his suit pocket and handed it to her. “Here is the name of the man who does framing for the gallery. He’s the best and if you let him know the work is coming here, he’ll give you a break on the price. I think simple frames on the sketch work, but I’d love to see this piece in something wide and rich. If you’d prefer, I can handle the framing end of things and work the cost into the commission fee.”

  “I trust your judgment. Your gallery is always breathtaking. I still can’t believe all this is happening.”

  “Believe it. You do exceptional work. You’ll see, after the show, your phone will be ringing off the hook with clients wanting to commission you. Your work will be a hit. I can see it now. You’ll be this season’s hottest new artist.”

  He made some quick notes. “So, I’ll handle the framing. We’ll take a few minutes to inventory everything and work out the final figures. You’ll have more for me, of course, but call with sizes and I’ll have everything waiting. We need to move on this if we’re going to make the opening in four weeks. It’s horribly last minute, I know, but I’m certain the caliber of your work will bring people in regardless.”

  He walked ahead of her, still talking, which was just as well, as Zee was speechless. “I’ll put a rush in at the printers and have the invitations and ads done by Monday. If you give a list to my assistant, Charles will ensure that your guests receive a personal invitation by week’s end. The caterers are booked.” He turned and smiled at her. “Is there anything I’m forgetting?”

  “I have absolutely no idea.” She felt like a deer in oncoming headlights.

  Daniel laughed. “Don’t be frightened. Leave everything to me. I’ve done this a few times.” He squeezed her arm. “If you have any questions, and you will, call me or Charles. If you think of anything special you’d like to eat or drink that night, let me know. I’ll inform the caterer. We use Natalie’s Nibbles. Horrible name, excellent food.

  “I’ll need you to give final approval of placement a few days prior, but I’m positive we will be talking many times before then. How can I get in touch with you?”

  Zee jotted her phone number on a slip of paper she rummaged from her purse.

  Daniel’s dark eyebrows drew together as she handed it to him. “I’ll talk to the printers. You’ll need business cards before the opening.”

  “I’ve been meaning to.”

  “I’ll tell them to call you directly.”

  “That would be great. It’s all so overwhelming.”

  “I’m the agent. You’re the talent. It’s my job to display you in the finest light possible for your work as well as for my gallery. It can be a bit daunting at first, but given your talent, Zee, I predict this will be the first of many shows for you. If all goes well, we may just show you in all my galleries.”

  By the time Zee left the Bruce Gallery, her head was spinning. So many details. She read the contract over three times before she signed it, but it all seemed fair and appropriate. She trusted the fact that Daniel was a close friend of Madeline. She trusted she would be well represented. This was really happening to her!

  “What have I always told you, Zee? You’re an artist. Maybe now you’ll believe me,” Nana whispered in her ear as she drove home.

  “I feel like an artist today. I’ve been afraid for so long that my work wasn’t good enough, that if I stopped pushing myself I would end up a could-have-been.” Excitement bubbled up. “But look at me now.”

  “You’ve worked hard. You deserve it, all of it. Trust it. Live a little. Have some faith. Damn the jinxes. Go buy some champagne!”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Zee waited for Jagger outside her apartment building with two bottles of chilled champagne. The good stuff. She felt so excited. She couldn’t wait to tell him about her morning with Daniel Bruce.

  His van rattled into the parking area, and Jagger jumped out. Zee’s breath caught. He wore a simple white tee shirt and dark jeans, but on him… Mercy! Leah was right.

  “You’re grinning like a shot fox. Did your meeting go well?” He scooped her into his arms.

  “It was amazing. My head is still spinning, but it was great. He said he was enamored with my work. Enamored. Who even says that?” Zee lifted the thermal bag she carried. “And, I changed my mind. We’re drinking champagne!”

  He spun her in a circle. “That’s the way!”

  Zee chatted nonstop for the next twenty minutes, telling Jagger every detail of her meeting, the drive into Boston, Copley Place, and the Bruce Gallery.

  When Jagger turned into a shaded lane, Zee caught sight of the sign at the end of the road. She’d been rambling on so, she wasn’t paying attention. “Umm, this is a private road.”

  “No worries, I know the owner.”

  The road curved through tall, mature trees. When they came around another wide curve, a large, stately home came into view. “It’s beautiful here. Where are we? Is this your way of telling me you’re rich?”

  “No.” Jagger just smiled and kept driving.

  Turning the van onto another narrow road, Jagger came to a stop at the end of a graveled area surrounded by forest. “We’re home.”

  “Home?” All Zee could see were trees.

  “Did you think I lived in my van?”

  “No, but…”

  “Come on.”

  Zee held his hand as he led her down a worn path through the trees. She could hear the rush of water, and soon they came to wide sweep of lawn that gently sloped down to a rocky stream. The sun sat low in the sky, and the area felt cool and shady. The sweet smell of damp earth and the last of the sun’s warmth hung over them.

  “Jagger, it’s lovely.”

  He turned her to the left and pointed. “Do you see that building? You can just make it out through the trees. The green metal roof blends into the leaves. That’s where I live. I work here, too. Board is part of the deal. I live in the groundkeeper’s shack.”

  “Why didn’t I know this?”

  “I’ve wanted to bring you out here. Thought tonight would be the perfect time. The weather’s warm. We can have a picnic down here by the water. Come on, let me show you.” Still holding his hand, he led her down the path through the trees.

  The building was small, but quaint and charming, tucked into the edge of the woods. One side was open yet covered by an extension of the roof. It held a large lawn mower and several tools. The weather worn cedar siding and green trim made it almost invisible in its surroundings. A wood splitting stump and a small stack of logs stood off to one side.

  “This is hardly what I’d call a shack.”

  “I thought the same thing when I saw it. Guess when you live in a mansion, this is a shack.” Jagger opened a padlocked door and let her in. “Home sweet home. For now, anyway.”

  Zee entered the cabin. It was really one large room sectioned only by a scattering of mismatched furniture, but it was cozy and warm. Sunlight poured in through wide windows along the back that looked out over the stream.

  In one corner was a minuscule kitchen. It made her kitchen look enormous. A red enameled table and two chairs made up the dining area. A bowl of green apples sat in the middle of the table. She picked one up and lifted it to her nose. The smell reminded her of that first day in class.

  Jagger’s bed filled another corner of the room with a tall open trunk that held clothing. Another small suitcase sat on top. A thick patchwork quilt covered a wide metal bed. Zee sat on its edge and gave a quick bounce making the springs squeak.

  A short sofa and a few small tables were the only other furnishings. Some books and a small stereo sat neatly next to the sofa. Nearby, Jagger’s guitar leaned against the wall. Sheets of music stuck out of a notebook.

  A tiny, black wood stove filled the last corner. A painted coal hod full of wood kindling sat close by. Zee took note of the two doors leading off the back. One she assumed was
the bathroom, the other must lead to the back of the building.

  “It’s so quiet.” Zee whispered. Jagger stood watching her. “This is great.” She walked back toward the kitchen. “And you work here?”

  “On the estate. I’m the groundskeeper, if you can even call it that. The owners are never here. They hire two women, Ellie and Marge, to keep up the house. I keep an eye on things out here and will get to mow the lawn. If I’m still here come winter, I’ll plow the road coming in. They have a gardener who shows up every two weeks to manage the flower beds and those giant urns by the house. I swear you could bathe a horse in those buggers. I know they have a hired driver, too, but he’s only here when the Hardings are in residence.

  “I’ve met the husband once. Alex is a good bloke. Doesn’t pay much, but then, I don’t do much. It was the live-in perk that closed the deal for me. And I’m only half an hour from the school.” He stood behind her, kneading her shoulders. He kissed her hair. “I like it here. I’ve slept in worse places.”

  “I think it’s perfect.”

  “It is now that you’re here.” He tipped her chin and brushed her lips with one of his feather light kisses that made her socks melt. “I’ve got everything ready for dinner. It won’t take a minute. I’ll just throw it in a bag.”

  The wall behind Jagger’s bed was full of photographs tacked to the wood wall. Many of them showed several holes poked into their corners. Edges were curled. Some were faded and yellow.

  Images of lovely scenery. The Grand Canyon. Jagger posing with various people. A photo of a giant sphere next to a sign boasting the World’s Largest Rubber Band Ball. Jagger with a clown. Him holding a huge fish. A professional wedding portrait…of Jagger looking his gorgeous self in a tuxedo with a white rose pinned to his lapel, kissing his beautiful bride upon her forehead. Her platinum hair tucked high, crowned with a puff of veil. Pearl drop earrings dripped from her earlobes.

  Zee’s stomach tumbled. He was married. No. Divorced? Did divorced men still keep their wedding photos hanging up? They did if they were still in love with their wives. Was that why he was so far from Australia? He said it was a promise to his father, but maybe the truth was he was really running from a broken heart. Or chasing one.

  Or, maybe he was one of those guys that bailed when things got too rough. One of those “Honey, I’m going out for a pack of smokes” guys that leaves and never comes back. Was there a woman out there looking for him? Was she out there wondering where her husband is?

  She looked back over her shoulder. Jagger was pulling things from the fridge and putting them in a backpack.

  Realization tidal waved her. Her fingertips tingled as cold ran down her arms. The muscles played under the white of his tee shirt. Who the hell was he? Yes, she could sketch every stunning inch of his body, and she knew he liked to hum after sex, but what else did she know? Nothing! She hadn’t even known where he lived!

  She couldn’t catch her breath. He was a virtual stranger, but that hadn’t stopped her from having sex with him. Oh, my God, she was her mother! And she couldn’t even blame her poor decisions on magic mushrooms. She was the naïve idiot who was screwing a married man!

  Zee looked at another picture of Jagger between two stunning women in bikinis. She started to hyperventilate. What if he had a string of wives stretched from here to Timbuktu? And kids!

  She was out the front door before she gave a second’s thought to where she was going. Where was the van? Then what? She’d been so busy blabbering on about Daniel Bruce, she didn’t have a clue where she was. Brilliant! How could she be so stupid!

  Anger bubbled to the surface. When was he planning on telling her he was married? Or had been, or still was. He should have told her. Maybe he had no intention of telling her. She was just a shag partner! One in a long line evidently!

  What else hadn’t he told her? Forget it. She didn’t care. She was out of here…wherever here was. Dammit!

  “Zee! Where are you going?”

  She didn’t stop. “Out for a pack of smokes!”

  “What? You don’t smoke. Wait.”

  “No!”

  “Zee!” Jagger grabbed her arm and spun her about. “What’s going on?”

  “I have one question. No, strike that, I have a million questions. But, let’s start with the big one. Are you divorced?”

  “Divorced? No.”

  “Dammit! I knew it!” Zee started walking again.

  “Wait. You thought I was divorced?”

  “Admit it! You’re married!” She was starting to feel hysterical. “You’re married! I can’t be with a married man.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She jabbed a finger into his chest. “Don’t lie! I saw! I saw your wedding picture with my own two eyes. The perfect groom with his perfect bride. Next thing you’ll tell me is you have two perfect children and a perfect damn dog! So, Mr. Globe Trotter, does the little woman even know where you are?”

  Jagger’s face grew dark. The muscle in his jaw twitched. Zee’s experience with Ed made her take a small step back. All her defenses were on alert. She glared at him in defiance. “Go ahead, deny it.”

  Well? Wasn’t he going to say something? Jagger spun on his heel and marched back into his cabin. The door slammed behind him. Tears pinched at the backs of her eyes and she started running back toward the road.

  She cursed her stupidity. She’d known he was too good to be true. Boy, could she pick ’em. Had he been lying this whole time? Was the story about his father even true? She’d felt sorry for him. What kind of a bastard makes up a dying father? God! Even Ed wasn’t that despicable.

  Zee ran past the van but without the keys, or the champagne to smash through the windshield, it did her no good. Great. She’d spent her whole grocery budget for the month on two stupid bottles of champagne! She stormed on. How far was it to the main house? Maybe someone there could get her home or call her a taxi or something.

  She got a stone in her shoe and swore. Leaning against a tree by the side of the road, she removed her shoe and pressed against the stitch in her side. The mansion couldn’t be much further. Zee swiped at angry tears shaking her head. I knew he’d break my heart. Why had she trusted that beautiful face? He was a master seducer! She knew it!

  But why today? Everything was going so well. It figured. Something was bound to burst that little bubble of perfection. It always did. It was the story of her life!

  Behind her, she heard Jagger’s van. Without thinking she stepped behind the tree as the van rushed past. He hadn’t seen her. The ache in her chest caused her to release a sob. It was over. It was better if she didn’t see him again. He’d just smile his crooked little smile and she’d lose what sense she had—if she had any. Then he’d kiss her, tip her chin, and brush his lips over hers, and her mind would turn to mush. But then he’d hold her. His arms were so strong. He always smelled like soap and…and him.

  Zee sat in the grass and leaned against her tree. She was such a fool.

  Less than two minutes later, Jagger’s van sped back. He must have spotted her because he practically stood the van on its nose slamming on the brakes. Zee got to her feet and started walking toward the main house again.

  “Woman! Stop!”

  “I’m not talking to you.” She kept moving.

  “I said stop!” Jagger’s hand clamped on her shoulder and she spun on him.

  “Don’t touch me!” She flinched.

  He put up his hands in surrender. “Just stop.” He blew out a heavy breath. Zee crossed her arms and looked at the ground, at a rock in the road, a clump of weeds. Anywhere but into his Hershey Kiss eyes.

  Jagger put his hands on his hips. “What the hell is going on with you?”

  “Me? Nothing is going on with me. You’re the one with all the secrets. You’re the one with the wife. Or wives. Or God knows what.”

  Jagger jaw twitched. He walked to the van, opened the passenger door and pulled something off the seat. “Here.” He held ou
t a fat, beat-up photo album. Zee refused to take it. “Fine. Let me just show you the wedding pictures.” Jagger flipped open the book and held it in front of her. “I especially like the one of my mum and da standing with me and Michaela, you know, Mick. And next to her—” He jabbed a finger at the picture. “This guy here? That’s Glen, the groom.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Glen? And Mick?”

  “Yeah, Michaela. We call her Mick for short. Michaela, my sister? I’ve mentioned her before. She was the perfect bride, when she married Glen. I was the best man.”

  “Best man?”

  “Yes, best man.” He snapped the book shut and tucked it under one arm. “There. Satisfied? I’m not married. Never have been. I’m not some bloody arse who would run out on a wife and, what did you say, two perfect children and a dog. I may be a bit of a wanker, and I’ve been called some lousy things, but I’ll be damned if anyone calls me a liar!”

  Zee flinched again when he yelled. It made his heart squeeze. Did she think he’d hit her? When she covered her face with her hands, his anger melted away. If he was honest with himself, it was more a fear of losing her and not hurt pride that had his pulse racing. Watching her leave had stirred up more in him than he had expected. He didn’t want to lose her. Not now.

  Jagger was on a slippery slope. One he’d never been on before. He realized just how much he needed her. She made him feel like who he was, and what he was doing, was worthy. It was true, he couldn’t offer her what Glen and Mick had. He couldn’t ask her that. But he could give her protection, and shelter. He could give her his heart.

  “Zee, I’d never hurt you. If you trust nothing else, trust that,” Jagger whispered.

  A sob rocked Zee’s shoulders. Her hands still covered her face. Zee mumbled, “Don’t you know you shouldn’t talk to crazy people.” Jagger pulled her into an embrace and held her tight. She buried her face in his chest. “I’m so sorry.”