by Haley Travis
For all I knew, he was playing the part so well his body was falling for it. A real relationship wasn’t impossible, but it might be highly unlikely. I’d try to make the most of it until I had more of a clue.
I heard a strange sound coming up the stairs, and realized it was the click of high heels. All of my clients wore scruffy sneakers and boots, so it was an unfamiliar noise. I had been wearing low heeled short boots and simple dresses, hoping to create a new look that was a blend of my old and new life. I found that treating these sometimes unfocused artists with extreme professionalism caused them to shift their thinking, and treat their art in a more businesslike manner. It forced them to be more detail-oriented and focused.
I nearly lost my own focus when I heard a tiny knock, then Rosalind walked in.
“Mia, darling!” she exclaimed, and I jumped from my chair to rush to the door.
“Rosalind, this is certainly a surprise.”
I tried not to let my jaw drop open when I saw that she was actually wearing a full-length fur coat over her bright teal dress. It was a little chilly today, but not to a level that warranted openly displaying dead animals.
She gave me a swift hug, then stared at my small one-room office. “Jacob told me that you’d started a little promotion business, so of course I had to drop in and see how you were doing.”
“Thank you, it’s lovely to see you. Would you like some coffee? Tea?”
“Thank you, dear, but I can’t stay long. I have an appointment uptown and a car is waiting.”
She came over to the wall covered in four mismatched white-boards. “Did the store run out of one kind?”
“No, they were brought in by my artists, from their apartments, basements, wherever.” I obviously couldn’t say that three of them were found beside a dumpster in a back alley.
“But surely you can afford new ones, dear.”
“That’s not the point. The artists are all helping with the office to build community. What they can’t pay in money, they pay in time and effort. Donating their own furniture, helping other artists. It’s becoming a collective,” I said proudly.
I could see her jaw clench slightly, then relax as she forced a smile. “And what are all of these?” She waved to a list of names and symbols.
“Each person is marked with what they can contribute. Some can volunteer as servers at gallery openings, some can work the door at music events, some can write press releases or design websites. Some can take photos for social media. Everyone can ask each other for help, and everyone contributes a similar amount. That’s how they earn points, and that’s redeemed in merchandise services through me. Printing costs, t-shirts, posters, buttons.”
She examined me oddly, her perfectly arched eyebrow raising slightly. “You’re a clever thing, aren’t you?”
I grinned. “I try.”
Her expression became unreadable. “Doesn’t Jacob get worried though, with you dealing with these sorts of people all the time?”
All of the acting I’d be doing over the past several weeks had somewhat prepared me for this, but it was still unexpected. I felt my shoulders tighten and tried to take a deep breath to keep my face relaxed. “What precisely do you mean, these sorts of people? They are all friends and acquaintances, or have been highly recommended by close friends.”
“Well, yes, dear. But they’re nightlife types. You know. The drinkers and the druggies.”
“I assure you, most of them drink less than some,” I snapped.
“Well, I hope at least you stay here safe in your office. You don’t go to those sorts of events, I assume.” She looked up to the ceiling. “Where are the security cameras?”
“I don’t have any.”
“Don’t you need to feel safe, dear?”
“I feel perfectly safe. I work with good people.” I willed my phone to ring, or something to happen to cease this awkward conversation before I said something regrettable.
“I don’t mean to upset you, Mia, but George expressed some reservations about some of your friends after chatting with them at the wedding. He said that there were some rather unsavory characters there.”
“George was smashed on scotch before the ceremony even began,” I said flatly. “He was acting strange all evening, and I don’t think he spoke to a single one of my friends.” Suddenly I realized how blind she was to the dynamic between her sons. “You do realize that George is incredibly jealous of Jacob, don’t you?”
She stared at me, aghast. “Whatever do you mean? The boys get along just fine.”
It was tricky to suppress my smirk. “George exhibits classic first sibling syndrome. When the firstborn isn’t the most successful, there is usually resentment and many sorts of lashing out.”
Rosalind laughed lightly. “You sound like you’re trying to be a psychologist.”
“I read a lot.”
She shook her perfectly styled hair, then turned for the door. “Please do be careful discussing things you don’t understand. We wouldn’t want to cause a rift between the boys. And I do hope you’ll be cautious with your little business here, dear. I know that Jacob is concerned about the people you’re working with, and we certainly wouldn’t want there to be problems with your marriage so soon.”
My back teeth were ground together while I counted to three before responding with a bright smile. “I appreciate your concern, Rosalind, and I’ll certainly discuss this with Jacob. I know that you all just want what is best for me.” I felt like a hypocrite and a weakling backing down like this, but I had to play my part no matter wrong and ignorant she was.
She disappeared down the stairs, and I was left fuming. Then worried. Although part of me knew she was likely lying, had Jacob expressed concern to her? Was that even possible?
JAC OB
<<< 44 >>>
DINNER CHAT
I managed to make it home before Mia, and with the help of Carol’s precooking, had dinner on the table and the wine poured just as she walked in.
“Hi, honey, how was your day?” I asked in a cheesy sitcom voice. She laughed, but I could see that she was tense. “What’s wrong?”
Mia kicked off her shoes, then came over to chug half of her wine before answering. “Your mother dropped by today.”
“Sit. Tell me what happened.”
“She insulted me left and right, said that my friends were drug users and drunks, implied that my clients were low-lifes, and that you were concerned for my safety working with such people.”
“I’ve never said any such thing.”
She visibly relaxed a little. “I didn’t think so, and I hope that you’d talk to me before talking to her. But still, it was a bit rattling.”
Mia drained her glass and I topped her up immediately. She looked up at me, genuinely disturbed. “Do you not like that I’ve started a business?”
“I think it’s great,” I said automatically. Then I realized she needed extreme honesty right now. “I mean, the business education in me is programmed to think it’s a bit odd that you have a business that isn’t designed to make money for the first little while. But then, many businesses take time to get their footing. Just because it’s different doesn’t make it wrong. I think you’re really helping people who need it. A lot of people say that they support the arts, but that’s only when it’s convenient for them, and only at the highest level.”
I smiled at her proudly. “Yet here you are, supporting people before they become famous. Helping the little guys, breathing some fresh energy into the art scene at a grassroots level. Money be damned, you’re creating real change for these people, Mia.”
She nodded. “That’s what I’m trying to do. I’m so relieved to hear you say it that way. That you get it.”
“I’m really proud of you.”
Her eyes shone up at me, then darkened. “There’s another thing. Your mother seems totally oblivious to the fact that George is jealous of you.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked almo
st comically surprised. “You have to know this.”
“What makes you think he’s jealous of me?”
“Let’s start with the way your mother treats the two of you totally differently. It was clear as a bell at the wedding. Did you not notice?”
“No.”
“She even speaks to you differently. Treating you like the golden boy who can do no wrong, and snipping at him at every turn, assuming that he’s making a mistake. Second guessing his every move. She just expects you to be the winner and him to be the loser. She was babbling on at the wedding to half of your family.”
I wracked my mind but didn’t recall. “Really?”
“Seriously. No wonder he’s ticked off about his perfect brother. You know how he was out to get you by not letting you know the details of your Uncle Geoffrey’s inheritance. He wanted the house for himself, likely figuring that he deserved it since you got the company.”
“But he was offered a position there. He’s always been welcome.” I felt like she was speaking a different language and I just couldn’t understand her.
“Why would he want to work under you? In your shadow? He’s been eclipsed by you his entire life.”
I didn’t think that Mia would make something like this up, but I just wasn’t seeing it. “I’ll think about this,” I said carefully. “Ready for spaghetti and meatballs?”
Mia nodded, realizing that I needed time to process. She gave me a little hug. “Sure. Thank you.”
I did like that she was opening up and becoming more real with me, but having her speak about my family as if she saw more about who they were than I did was rattling. Even though my gut reaction was to feel ticked off, she was so observant and clever that I’d be a fool if I didn’t think about what she’d said. She had always been right about these things.
M I A
<<< 45 >>>
STRESS RELIEF
When I heard Jacob coming in the front door around six-thirty Monday evening, I couldn’t resist saying, “How was your day, dear?”
He grinned, immediately playing along. “Wonderful, honey. How are the kids? Did little Jimmy cut his first tooth yet?”
“Oh yes, sweetheart,” I said while shaking the martini I had prepared a few minutes ago. “He wants to replace it with a gold one, but I warned him that might not be as trendy in a few years.”
Jacob laughed, accepting the fancy glass I handed him. “What’s this?” The huge martini glasses had stems with blue and green swirls through the glass like a marble. They looked like the sort of handmade treasure that was so expensive that I’d normally be afraid to touch them, but I wanted to try to get used to everything in this home.
“I accidentally found these crazy glasses in the cupboard and felt inspired. This is vodka, peach and pineapple juice, with lemon bitters.”
He took a sip, tasting it thoughtfully, then took a much bigger sip. “Please tell me you have enough to make eighty-four more of these.”
We plopped on the couch. “At least one more,” I said. “Rough day?”
He rolled his eyes dramatically, taking another swig before placing his glass on the table. “Yeah, today pretty much sucked,” he said.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“I’d just bore you and stress you out as well. It’s a bunch of people behaving like idiots because they don’t want to admit that they don’t know what’s going on.” He sighed heavily. “There is nothing wrong with saying you don’t know something, and going to look it up. We’ve provided them with all of the research, and a list of outside resources for confirmation. All they have to do is skim it, or have their assistants skim it and give them a synopsis if they don’t like the one we provided. It would take them a few hours, tops. Instead, they rant about things they don’t understand, and make it painfully obvious that they aren’t just stupid, they’re stubborn and childish.”
He looked over with a little grin. “Sorry. Most of our clients are wonderful, but this one group is a pain in the ass.”
“So fire them.”
Jacob gave me that flat, weird stare. “Are you joking? You can’t fire a client.”
“Actually, you really can. I just read an article about it. If one difficult client is taking up far more energy than they should be, you tell them that you are sorry that you cannot meet their needs, and you cut them loose. Then you have more time and resources for your existing, reasonable accounts, and getting new clients.”
“Wow.” He reached for his drink again, taking a big swig. “I’d never thought of that. I guess it makes sense, but my father always said that every client is important.”
“If one person is sucking time away from eighty people, they’re not worth it. One client isn’t some precious sacred thing that can’t be replaced.” I took a drink, then set it down. “Well, you know. If you have a large group of clients. If you only have three, you might have to suck it up and work through it. But you seem to be pretty well established.”
Jacob laughed. “Mia, you’re a genius. It would never have occurred to me to cut them out. Just knowing that is an option is a huge relief.”
He reached over and began rubbing my back, seemingly without thinking. I loved the way he had been touching me more and more. It was comforting.
“How was your day?”
Now it was my turn to make a face. “In any group of people, there is always going to be a lazy one that brings the rest down. I had to politely suggest to a band that they replace their bass player.”
“That sounds like drama. It’s not just business with bands, is it? They all get very attached to band members.”
“Yeah. It becomes a pretty tight team, in most cases. But if he doesn’t show up for rehearsals, doesn’t text, and they’re actually worried before shows that he’s going to show up at all, that puts everyone on edge. And it’s not my place to say it, but he’s not really that good. The rest of them have great energy on stage, and he sort of just stands there, looking like he’d rather be doing his taxes.”
He laughed. “Oh man, that’s lousy.”
“Yeah. I told them flat out at the meeting he didn’t bother attending, that they’re only as strong as their weakest link. If they’re stressed about a problem, solve the problem. Don’t just limp along letting him drag them down.”
“How did they take it?” He seemed genuinely fascinated.
“They all agreed. I think they just needed to hear it out loud, from an outside source. They’d never had band meetings before, and that’s important for getting everything out in the open.”
Jacob’s hand slid from where he was gently rubbing between my shoulder blades down to my lower back. “I love the way you call things like you see them,” he said gently.
“Some people tiptoe around desperately afraid of hurting anyone’s feelings, while screwing themselves over. A lot of things can be fixed with one awkward conversation.”
I looked over at him and realized our eyes were locked. We both knew at some point we’d be having an awkward conversation about our relationship. But it was my turn to be a child. I didn’t think that I could deal with it today.
“So,” Jacob asked, “Should we have dinner? Or do we drink our troubles away?”
“I don’t think there are enough martinis in the world right now,” I laughed. “And I don’t have time for a hangover.”
“I could order a masseuse to come over.”
I couldn’t help but shake my head at him. “Throwing money at a problem?”
“We have the money. We have a problem. Why not?”
“Have you ever thought about how you would solve problems if you didn’t have money?”
“Um, no.”
I couldn’t help but feel a bit exasperated. “Jacob, can you even imagine having a lung infection, curled up in bed with no orange juice, no money for antibiotics, no cab fare to get to the doctor, and if you miss your shift at work tonight you’ll miss rent?”
His face was a mixture of horror and pain. “
Mia, has that ever happened to you?”
I stared at the floor for a moment, not able to meet his eyes. “Well, I don’t know for sure it was an infection because I couldn’t get to the doctor. Maybe it was just a bad cold.”
“Oh my god.” His arms wrapped around me immediately, but this time it wasn’t romantic, it was possessive. I felt something in him shift. “You’re never going through that again.”
I tried to smile up at him. “You never know. I could lose my money and end up nearly homeless again.”