The Proverbial Mr. Universe

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The Proverbial Mr. Universe Page 11

by Maria La Serra


  He studied her for a moment. “Alright, but can I just say one more thing.”

  She shrugged in defeat.

  “I just want to see you happy.”

  “And you think I could be happy with Nick?”

  “No, yes …What I mean is forget Nick. I just want you to be happy. Just be happy with your life and with yourself.” Paul got up and began to move the boxes around, leaving Olivia to her thoughts.

  She looked down at the palm of her hand, still holding on to the crumpled note.

  “Hey, Paul, hold on. I’ve changed my mind … I’m just going to donate my things.”

  “Donate?”

  “Yeah, why are you so surprised?”

  Her brother scanned the boxes. “All of them?”

  Olivia took a moment to answer. “Yeah … why not?”

  “You sure? I know how you feel about your designer shit.”

  She sighed. “It’s only stuff. I think it’s time for a change.” Olivia looked back at the boxes. For some strange reason, she already felt lighter, as if she was liberated.

  “Alright, you’re the boss,” Paul said as he picked up a box, heading toward the door. Olivia rushed past him and opened the door to find Peter standing in front of her.

  “Did anyone order a cappuccino?” Peter said.

  Paul called out from behind her, “I told you he was good for something.”

  “Hmm?” Peter arched his brow.

  After she dropped off the boxes and Paul and Peter went their separate ways, Olivia got into her car. She didn’t know why, but all she could think about on the drive back home was Nick. She’d be lying to herself if she said this was the first time she thought about him since they met at the bar. Sure, they seemed to have some sort of connection, but it wasn’t like she was some school girl with a big crush? And after all, he wasn’t her type. He just couldn’t be.

  All week she thought she’d run into him on the street or the café. She had a slight feeling he had intentionally been avoiding her. At a red light, she retrieves her phone from her purse, as doing so a piece of paper fell onto her lap. As she read the note to herself, her mouth stretched out into a smile

  A sudden urge had her going right instead of straight, and five minutes later she found herself parked outside of an upscale gallery. Further down, Olivia spotted Nick’s old truck parked outside. She remembered Nick telling her about a friend who had a showing tonight, and that he would be helping him set up early in the day.

  She sat in her car for a moment, trying to figure out what she would say if they came face to face … because they will, since that’s the reason why she was there.

  She could just walk in and say what …?

  It was quiet with no sign of Nick or anyone else. Olivia had been there before with her father. The gallery housed three floors of the most prominent artists in the world. It was Olivia’s favorite gallery. It had an executive feel with its Carrera marble floor and expensive furnishings.

  When Olivia heard footsteps she chose to look at the canvas on the wall, like she was some potential customer.

  “Olivia?”

  “Nick? What a surprise.”

  “Our worlds seem to be getting smaller by the minute. What are you doing here?”

  Mostly stalking … but he didn’t need to know that. He smiled at her like he found her amusing. The reason she was there must have shown on her face.

  “I was across the street. I saw you come in and well, I guess I just wanted to say hi … so hi.”

  “You were across the street?”

  “Yeah, just running some errands.”

  Nick glanced over her shoulder, knitting his dirty blond eyebrows together. “You were at a pawn shop?”

  Olivia’s eyes followed behind her and saw a big sign Cash for Gold

  “Yeah, sure. I had some things … I wanted to get rid of, some personal stuff.”

  Stop talking, Olivia.

  His confused face lit up, as though he seen right through her.

  “So hi …” Her voice raised slightly, and she did a clumsy curtsy.

  What was wrong with her? God, she was such an idiot.

  He gave her one of his best grins. “Hi.”

  “Well, I must be going. I’ll see you around, Montgomery.” She headed toward the door as fast as possible.

  “Olivia, wait!”

  She stopped and turned around. “Hmmm?”

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Mostly packing and …” Her voice trailed off when she realized why he had asked the particular question. “I have nothing planned, why?”

  “I was wondering … that is, if you’re not pawning the rest of your personal stuff … if you wanted to come to tonight’s venue.” He paused. “We could come together. Maybe even grab a bite before swinging by.”

  “Are you asking me out?” She smiled.

  He touched the bridge of his nose. “I would have to say no … since I’m clearly not your type.” He grinned. “We’re just two people with a soft spot for art.”

  She felt herself smile. “Well, since you put it that way … how can I refuse?”

  Nick had to contain himself from wanting to pull her closer, especially since they had been standing so close. She walked—more like glided—across the marble floor, viewing another canvas on the wall. Earlier they had dinner together at a nearby restaurant. He found it exhilarating to spend a small amount of time with her. She had told him about her career, how disappointed her father was with her career choice, and how guilty she felt now that her father was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. It was obvious that Olivia was in a confusing and frustrating time in her life, and he wondered if he would ever find a comfortable space in it. He wanted to make all that sadness in her eyes completely disappear, erase any pain that anyone ever caused her … if only she allowed him.

  “Do you enjoy working for your brother?” Olivia asked as she took a sip of her champagne.

  “It can be challenging at times.” He smiled. “To be honest, working for my brother Dan it’s not something I imagine myself doing forever. I mean, I have better aspirations for myself. Not that there’s anything wrong being a bartender. I guess sometimes we have to put our wants aside to do things out of necessity, until you can do what you want.” He shrugged.

  “What is it you wanted to do?” She glanced up from her glass, waiting.

  “This…” he gestured around the room “…to paint again … and one day maybe even have a gallery of my own. I don’t know; maybe its wishful thinking.”

  Nick always considered himself optimistic, considering what he had been through. He had wondered if he could get back at the art, which was once his whole life.

  “I don’t think anything is impossible, Montgomery. It’s just a matter of how badly you want something.”

  “Yeah, maybe, but I’m a washed-up artist. Not that I’m bitter about it. I’m not missing anything either. I should just be grateful that I’m working. It’s a way of paying the bills.”

  Olivia opened her mouth but then closed it. She obviously had a change of heart. He watched her silently as she glanced around the gallery. The room was crowded with people, but she had a way of making him feel they were the only two.

  Olivia was what he liked to call feminine-classic, so sophisticated in a black blazer worn over a deep V-top and slim black pants. It amazed him how talented she was balancing her red purse-thingy under her arm without dropping it once. Standing under the spotlight Olivia’s hair glowed like it was begging him to run his fingers through it. Her eyes revealed a glimmer of wonder, so vast and deep … too big for her own good. They gave the impression that they had taken in so much already from this life, and perhaps it was the reason they seemed so empty. But not this evening, no tonight they seem entirely different.

  “Nick,” a voice called out from behind him.

  He turned around to find George Sanders, the art director, extending his hand. George was the one who had given Nick his b
ig break eight years ago, and they remained friends ever since.

  As a child, Nick never cared to sketch or color like the other kids, so it was quite surprising to some that he had found art as his calling. At eighteen, he had his first group exhibit at this very gallery, and from there everything snowballed into a promising career. He began to be recognized in the art world, and his career took him all over the world. But like everything else in Nick’s life, things were not meant to last. Just when things were getting good, life had a way to get him on the ground. It wasn’t something that happened overnight … it was gradual, several chain of events. It mostly started when he met Chloe. It’s not so easy to figure which people were poison for the soul when they looked like angels. Chloe had consumed him, devoured him, and when he was spit out, he had become a different man. The drama of their relationship had a great impact on his career. Then, at twenty-four, Nick had another setback. When he got sick, his creative energy had disappeared altogether.

  But that was the past, and he wanted to concentrate on the future. Because when it came down to it all, there was no other way than to go forward.

  “Hey, George.”

  “So when are you going to come by and see me, so we can go over your next project?”

  Nick winced with uncertainty, not sure on how to answer. He had been locked up in his studio, but he hadn’t created anything satisfying for viewing.

  He watched George’s eyes shift from him to Olivia. “Well, hello there.”

  “George, this is my friend Olivia.”

  George slid off his reading glasses from his bald head and placed them over his eyes. “Yes … but we’ve met before. You’re James Montiano’s beautiful daughter,” George said as he held Olivia’s hand just a little too long for Nick’s liking.

  Olivia smiled. “I came in with my dad a few months back.”

  “If I recall, he bought one of the Tally DuPont pieces.” George tapped his temple.

  “Yes.”

  “Olivia, maybe you could convince my friend over here to pick up a paint brush again.” He paused. “He was once one of my best sellers. Do you know clients still ask for his work? Nick is one of the most sought-after artists of his generation.”

  “Correction: was … I already told you, George, I’m working on it. I don’t know. Maybe I need to find some new inspiration.”

  “You have all the inspiration you need standing right beside you.”

  Olivia smiled, and her cheeks turned from a pale pink to a bright shade of red.

  “Believe me, George when I get something completed, you’ll be the first one to know.”

  George didn’t seem satisfied with Nick’s answer, and he turned to look at Olivia.

  “You know this guy is the most honest person and artist that I have ever met … and so talented,” he said. “I hope he can find his way back.” He tapped Nick on his shoulder. “We’ll keep in touch, mon ami.”

  When George left them, Olivia looked back ant Nick with curiosity. “You had an exhibit here? Nick, that’s a big deal.” Her face lit up.

  “That was long ago.” He gave her a sideways glance, liking that she was impressed.

  Nick felt a firm hand on his shoulder and turned around. “Thanks for coming, buddy.”

  “Luke, I want you to meet Olivia.”

  Luke’s eye widened and he had a stupid grin on his face that Nick wished he could just wipe off.

  “Nice to meet you, Olivia.”

  “Hey, some turnout tonight,” Nick said, trying to get Luke’s attention.

  “I know. Thanks for your help this morning.”

  “No problem, man … I owe you one.”

  Olivia blinked several times. “Hey, I know you. Aren’t you the guy who bought my friend Jessica a drink?”

  Luke gave Nick a panicked look. “Ah … I think I hear George calling me.” He paused. “I’ll be right back … again, thanks for coming, guys.” Luke walked backwards before disappearing into the crowd.

  She turned to Nick. “I think you have some explaining to do.”

  He smiled. “Ah, alright you got me there.”

  He ought to explain that the night Olivia walked into his bar, he thought it was some sign from the universe. Literally. There was a marquee sign in the shape of an arrow that hung on the wall, lit up brightly, and Olivia stood right next to it when he first caught sight of her. It was like the universe conveyed a little secret. “Hey, stupid, I brought her here, so don’t mess it up.” Alright, the voice was in his head and it sounded very similar to Dan’s voice.

  Things couldn’t get much better. Out of the hundred bars that lined the streets of Montreal she had to walk into his. All the stars were aligned that night, so he thought.

  His heart pounded so loudly that he was sure of everyone in that bar heard. Nick knew that was the opportunity he had been waiting for. It was a do or die kind of situation. All he needed to do was get her alone. He begged his friend Luke, who happened to be there alone and thankfully very single, to help him out by distracting Olivia’s friend. He didn’t necessarily have to twist Luke’s arm. Luke took one look at the redhead and voila! It was a win-win all around. It almost didn’t work as he hoped, and he thought he’d almost blown it—thanks for his natural talent of placing his big foot in his big mouth. As much as he liked it when she got all fired up, he didn’t intentionally want to be the cause of it. To his surprise he managed to turn things around and then there she was, talking to him, laughing with him—more like at him. He loved the way she laughed, the way her eyes sparkled, and that dimple would appear in her cheek. She was one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen.

  He wasn’t going to deny it.

  “I just wanted to hang out with you, get to know you better.”

  Olivia studied him for a moment, her eyes revealing more than words ever could. It was almost seductive, the way she walked away from him, gazing back so he could see her eyes entice him to follow.

  Olivia led him through the crowd, into a room with only enough space for the two of them. She leaned against the wall, holding her almost finished Champaign glass to her lips. Her eyes were soft and clearer than they’d ever been. Nick thought it might be an open invitation. If he were bolder, he probably would have leaned in and seen where his lips would have taken him. He struggled with the urge. It was difficult to ignore this electrifying heat. Sitting across from her on the bench at the center of the room was a better decision.

  “So … this whole thing is weird, right?” She gave him a sideways glance.

  “What’s that?” He playfully swirled his glass between his fingers.

  “How we seem to show up at the same places.” She pushed herself away from the wall to get a better look at the canvas displayed in front of her. “How long have we been crossing each other’s path? Why is it we have never spoken to each other before?”

  Nick certainly believed in destiny, but it only took you so far. After that, everything was entirely up to you.

  “Well, I have a theory.” Nick placed his almost-full champagne glass back on the table next to him.

  “Do you?” She walked across the room and sat next to him on the leather bench.

  “I think we are quite stubborn people … you and I. I think the universe has a clever way of forcing us to take a hard look at each other. A chance to notice each other when we probably wouldn’t on our own. Like a bird and air … on our own we’re probably okay, but put us together and we’re amazing.”

  “So which one am I?” She smiled.

  “The bird. You’re definitely the bird.” He grinned.

  He saw Olivia like a beautiful bird, so uncertain of herself. He wanted to tell her that he had hoped one day he could be like air to her. The air she could not breathe without, the air under her wings that could take her soaring through the vast sky. It was corny, but there was never a right way to tell someone how you felt about them.

  Nick wanted to tell her that he tried so desperately, wanted to say some
thing to her for the longest time. He wasn’t going to scrutinize the circumstances that brought them together … whatever they might be. He didn’t know where this was headed. All he was sure of was he had this soft spot for Olivia. He only hoped the feeling somehow went both ways. He could feel her studying him, like she was trying to make up her mind about him. Olivia took another sip of her drink before getting up and walking toward the next canvas.

  “After all, girls like you wouldn’t give a guy like me the time of day.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? Girls like me?” She tilted her head to the side.

  “Beautiful. Smart … a lot going on for them.”

  She laughed. “I don’t have a lot going on. I’m sure you’d be surprised to find I’m not who you think I am.” She glanced around the room before saying, “My grandfather had a saying about people who seemed to have a lot going for them: it’s all smoke and no roast.”

  “Wise man.”

  She shrugged. “My grandfather was a superb man with an immense heart. He passed away six years ago.” A faint shadow of sadness crossed her face.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. That’s just life.” She averted her eyes back to the canvas.

  Nick took a long look at her. He was familiar with the constant heartache that came with the loss of someone you loved. He understood the absent void in the heart, the agonizing suffering of never seeing, touching, or hearing that person again. This feeling that only got better with time, but never actually went away. It was a deep scar on his heart that for him it was a testament for the ones who were absent from his life, but still very much loved. That was something Nick never wanted to go away.

  He looked back at her, but tonight he didn’t wish to talk about loss. He only wanted her to smile. Maybe he was selfish, but when she did smile it had a profound, positive effect on him. It was his duty to keep all the bad away, giving only best of himself.

 

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