He turned and walked away without another word, and just like that, for a small fraction of a second, Graham Russell showed me a glimpse of his heart.
Around eleven that night, I finished cleaning up Talon’s room and headed to Graham’s office where he was writing, his focus completely zoomed in on his words.
“Hey, I’m heading home.”
He took a beat, finished typing his sentence, and turned to face me. “Thank you for your time, Lucille.”
“Of course. Oh, and just a heads-up, on Friday I don’t think I can make it. My boyfriend is having an art show, so I’ll have to be there.”
“Oh,” he said, a small twitch finding his bottom lip. “Okay.”
I tossed my purse strap over my shoulder. “You know, if you want, you can bring Talon to the show. It might be nice to get her out and about to places other than the doctor’s office.”
“I can’t. I have to finish these next few chapters by Saturday.”
“Oh, okay…well, have a great night.”
“What time?” he said right as I stepped into the hallway.
“Hmm?”
“What time is the show?”
A lump of hope formed in my gut. “Eight o’clock, at the art museum.”
He nodded once. “I might finish early. Fancy attire?”
I couldn’t even hold the smile to myself. “Black tie.”
“Noted.” He must’ve noticed my excitement because he narrowed his eyes. “It’s not a promise that I’ll make it. I just prefer to be informed in case I do attend.”
“No, of course. I’ll put you on the guest list, just in case.”
“Good night, Lucille.”
“Good night, Graham Cracker.”
As I walked away, I couldn’t help but think about the way the evening had progressed. To the average person, his interactions would’ve seemed normal at best, but I knew for Graham, it had been an extraordinary day.
Sure, he hadn’t given me a guarantee that he’d make it to the show, but there was a small chance. If this was the man he became after a visit from Professor Oliver, I secretly prayed he’d stop by each day.
There were small moments that I sometimes witnessed with Graham as he cared for his daughter. Those moments were what I held onto when he was colder than cold. Oftentimes I’d walk in on him shirtless, lying on the couch with Talon in his arms. Each day he did the kangaroo care, out of fear of not bonding with Talon. But they were bonded more than he could’ve noticed. She adored him, just as he adored her. Once as I rested in the living room, I overheard him on the baby monitor speaking to his daughter as he tried to soothe her crying.
“You are loved, Talon. I promise to always take care of you. I promise to be better for you.”
He would’ve never showed that side of his heart if he was standing near me. He would’ve never been seen in such a vulnerable state of mind. Yet the fact that he wasn’t afraid to love his daughter so carefully in the quietness of his home, lit me up inside. It turned out the beast wasn’t such a monster after all. He was simply a man who’d been hurt in the past and was slowly opening back up due to the love of his daughter.
I arrived at the museum a little after eight due to a late floral delivery, and when I walked in wearing my sparkly purple dress, I was shocked by the amount of people already there. Richard’s display was in the west end of the museum, and the individuals who’d shown up were dressed as if they were at the Met Gala in New York City.
I’d found my dress on sale at Target.
My eyes darted around the room in search of Richard, and when I spotted him, I hurried over. “Hey.” I smiled, stepping into the conversation he was having with two women about a piece of his artwork. The women were stunning in their red and gold gowns that traveled to the floor. Their hair was pinned up perfectly and their makeup was flawless.
Richard looked up at me and gave me a half smile. “Hey, hey, you made it. Stacy, Erin, this is Lucy.”
The two ladies eyed me up and down as I eased my way closer to Richard and held my hand out to each of them. “His girlfriend.”
“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Richie,” Erin said, shaking my hand with a look of distaste on her lips.
“Me neither,” Stacy replied.
“Of five years,” I gritted through my teeth, trying my best to give a fake smile.
“Oh,” they said in unison, disbelief dripping from the word.
Richard cleared his throat, placed his hand on my lower back, and started to guide me away. “Ladies, go grab yourselves a drink. I’m going to show Lucy around a bit.”
They walked off, and Richard slightly leaned in to me. “What was that about?”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to play off the fact that I had not been completely normal in that interaction.
“Your whole, ‘this is my man, back off, bitches’ persona back there.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, standing up straighter. I wasn’t a jealous girl, but the feeling those ladies had given me was so uncomfortable; it was as if they were displeased by my whole existence.
“It’s fine, really,” Richard said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them with a pocket cloth. “Your dress is short,” he mentioned, looking around the room.
I spun a bit. “Do you like it?”
“It’s short, that’s all. Plus, your high heels are bright yellow and really tall. You’re taller than me.”
“And that’s an issue?”
“It just makes me feel a bit undermined, is all. When I introduce you, I’ll look like the small guy next to his giant girlfriend.”
“It’s only a few inches.”
“But still, it’s belittling.”
I wasn’t sure how to take his words, and before I could reply, he commented on my hair.
“And there are rose petals in your hair.”
I smiled and patted the flower crown I’d crafted at the floral shop before I came. It was made up of roses, tulips, and baby’s breath, and it sat on top of my hair, which was placed in a big French braid that lay over my left shoulder. “Do you like it?” I asked.
“It just seems a bit childish,” he replied, placing his glasses back on. “I just…I thought I told you how important this event is to me, Lucy. To my career.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I know. Richard, this is all amazing. What you’ve done is amazing.”
“Yeah, but it just looks a bit odd for you to arrive dressed in such a way.”
My lips parted, uncertain what to say, but before I could reply, he excused himself, saying he needed to go say hello to some very important people.
Clearing my throat, I walked off by myself and wandered around the room before eventually making my way to the bar, where a nice gentleman smiled at me. “Hey there, what can I get you?”
“A different dress,” I joked. “And maybe a shorter pair of heels.”
“You look beautiful,” he remarked. “And between you and me, I think you’re the best dressed in the room, but what do I know? I’m just a bartender, not an artist.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I’ll just take a water with a lemon slice for now.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want vodka? This seems like a room that needs serious quantities of vodka.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “While I agree, I think I’m already drawing enough attention to myself. No need to allow the drunken version of myself to escape.” I thanked him for the ice water, and when I turned around, I saw the back of a man standing in front of one of Richard’s paintings. Beside him sat a car seat that held the most beautiful child in the world. A wave of comfort washed through me at seeing them before me. It was hard to explain how seeing those two familiar faces brought me a level of confidence.
“You made it,” I exclaimed, going over to Talon and bending down to lightly kiss her forehead.
Graham turned my way just a bit before looking back at the painting. “We did.” He stood tall in an all-black suit wi
th a deep gray tie and gray cuffs. His shoes were shiny, as if freshly polished for the gala. His hair was slicked back with a bit of gel, and his beard was nicely groomed.
“Does that mean you finished your chapters?”
He shook his head once. “I’ll finish once I get home.”
My chest tightened. He hadn’t even finished his work, but he’d still made time to make an appearance.
“Lucille?”
“Yes?”
“Why am I staring at a twelve-by-twelve-foot painting of your naked boyfriend?”
I giggled to myself, sipping my water. “It’s a self-discovery collection where Richard dived deep to express his inner thoughts, fears, and beliefs through how he sees himself using different mediums, such as clay, charcoal, and pastels.”
Graham glanced around the room at the rest of Richard’s self-portraits and clay creations. “Is that a six-foot-tall statue of his penis?” he asked.
I nodded uncomfortably. “That is indeed a six-foot-tall statue of his penis.”
“Hmph. He’s quite confident in his”—he tilted his head slightly and cleared his throat—“manhood.”
“I like to believe confidence is my middle name,” Richard joked, walking up to our conversation. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Oh yes, right, sorry. Richard, this is Graham. Graham, this is Richard.”
“Lucy’s boyfriend,” Richard said with a bit of bite to his words as he reached out to shake Graham’s hand. “So you’re the one who’s been stealing my girlfriend’s time day and night, huh?”
“More so Talon than myself,” he replied, dry as ever.
“And you’re an author?” Richard asked, knowing very well that Graham was indeed G.M. Russell. “I’m sorry, I’m not exactly sure I’ve heard of your novels. I don’t think I’ve ever read anything you’ve published.” He was being oddly aggressive, making the whole situation uncomfortable.
“That’s fine,” Graham responded. “Enough other people have, so your lack of awareness doesn’t inflict any damage on my success.”
Richard laughed obnoxiously loud and slugged Graham in the shoulder. “That’s funny.” He chuckled awkwardly then slid his hands into his pockets. Richard’s eyes traveled to the glass in my hand and he raised an eyebrow. “Vodka?”
I shook my head. “Water.”
“Good, good. It’s probably best for you to not drink tonight, right, sweetheart?”
I gave him a tight smile, but didn’t reply.
Graham grimaced. “Why’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, well, when Lucy drinks, she becomes a bit…goofy. Very talkative, if you can believe it. It’s like it heightens all of her quirks, and it can be a lot to handle at times.”
“She seems grown-up enough to make her own choices,” Graham countered.
“And her choice was not to drink tonight,” Richard replied, smiling.
“I’m sure she can speak for herself,” Graham said, his voice cold. “After all, she was given her own vocal cords.”
“Yes, but she would’ve just said exactly what I have stated.”
Graham gave a forced, tight grin. It was the unhappiest smile I’d ever witnessed in my lifetime. “Please excuse me, I must go someplace other than right here,” Graham coldly stated, lifting the car seat and walking off.
“Wow.” Richard whistled low. “What an asshole.”
I lightly pushed his shoulder. “What was that? You were a bit aggressive, don’t you think?”
“Well, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how comfortable I am with you being at his place all the time.”
“I’m there helping taking care of Talon, who is my niece, my family. You know this.”
“Yeah, but you seem to have left out the fact that he looks like a freaking Greek god, Lucy. I mean, Jesus Christ, what kind of author has arms the size of the Titanic?” Richard exclaimed, his jealousy loud and clear.
“He works out when he has writer’s block.”
“There must be a lot blocking that writer. Anyway, come over here. There are some people I need you to meet.” He took my arm and started pulling me forward. When I turned around to check on Graham, he was sitting on a bench, holding Talon and staring my way. His stare was intense, as if his mind was running with a million thoughts.
Richard took me around the room, introducing me to a bunch of people who were dressed much fancier than me. Every time, he’d speak about my outfit, mentioning how it was quirky, like my heart. He said it with a smile, but I could sense the frown underneath it.
“Can I take a break?” I asked after speaking to a woman who looked at me as if I were trash.
“Just two more people. This is important—they are the couple to talk to tonight.”
Apparently my break would have to wait.
“Mr. and Mrs. Peterson,” Richard said, reaching his hand out for handshakes. “I’m so happy you could make it.”
“Please, don’t be so formal, Richard. Just call us Warren and Catherine,” the gentleman said as they both greeted us with warm smiles.
“Right, of course. Again, I’m so happy you’re here.”
Catherine wore a fur shawl around her shoulders, and her body was decked out in expensive jewelry, making her smile shine even more. Her lips were painted fuchsia, and she carried herself as if she were royalty.
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Richard. And you must be Lucy.” She grinned and took my hand in hers. “I’ve been asking a lot about the lady in this talented man’s life.”
“That’s me.” I laughed unenthusiastically, tugging on the bottom of my dress with my free hand, hoping Richard wouldn’t comment on it. “I’m sorry, how do you both know—”
“Mr. Pet—Warren is one of the greatest artists in the world, and he’s from Milwaukee, Lucy,” Richard explained. “I’ve told you about him many times.”
“No,” I said softly. “I’m not sure you have.”
“Yes, I have. I’m sure you’ve just forgotten.”
Warren chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, Lucy. My own wife forgets me about fifty times a day—isn’t that right, Catherine?”
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Catherine joked, winking at her husband. While they were nothing but pleasant, I could tell Richard was somewhat annoyed with me, though I was certain I’d never heard of them.
“So, Richard, what’s the next step in your career?” Warren asked.
“Well, I was invited to a showcase in New York City by a friend of mine,” he stated.
“Oh?” I asked, surprised to just be hearing about it right then. “I had no clue.”
“It just happened this afternoon actually,” he said, leaning in and giving me a kiss. “Remember Tyler? He’s going to this big art gala in the city and said I could crash at his apartment.”
“Oh, the Rosa Art Gala?” Warren asked, nodding. “I spent many years at the Rosa. It’s a week of magic. I swear every artist must partake in it at least once. I’ve found some of my strongest artistic influences during those times.”
“And lost plenty of brain cells, too,” Catherine joked. “From paint fumes, alcohol, and marijuana.”
“It’s going to be amazing, that’s for sure,” Richard agreed.
“Are you going too, Lucy?” Warren asked.
“Oh, no. She’s actually running a floral shop,” Richard cut in, not even giving me a chance to answer. I hadn’t even been invited in the first place. “But I wish she could make it.”
“You’re a florist?” Warren asked eagerly. “You should consider pairing with an artist for the floral show that the museum hosts here. You make a floral arrangement, and then the artist paints a piece based on your creation. It’s quite fun.”
“That sounds amazing,” I agreed.
“If you need an artist, let me know and I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure I can get your name on the program, too.” Warren grinned.
“Now’s the time for the most important question of the nigh
t: what are you drinking, Lucy?” Catherine asked.
“Oh, just water.”
She looped her arm with mine and started to walk off with me. “Well, that won’t do. Are you a gin lady?” she asked.
Before I could reply, Richard spoke. “Oh, she loves gin. She’ll have whatever you’re having, I’m sure.”
As the four of us started walking to the bar, Catherine paused. “Oh my God, Warren! Warren, look!” She nodded in the direction of Graham, who was putting a sleeping Talon back into her car seat. “Is that G.M. Russell?”
Warren reached into his pocket and pulled out his glasses. “I think it is.”
“You know his work?” Richard asked, unamused.
“Know it? We’re in love with it. He’s one of the best authors out there—besides his father, of course. May he rest in peace,” Warren said.
“Oh, no. He’s much better than Kent was. He writes with so much pain, it’s hauntingly beautiful.”
“Yes.” Warren nodded. “I completely agree. In fact, my Shadows series was inspired by his novel Bitter.”
“That’s one of my favorites,” I glowed, remembering the novel that had a permanent spot on my bookcase. “And that twist!”
“Oh my gosh, honey, that twist!” Catherine agreed, her cheeks turning red. “Oh, I’d just love to meet him.”
I wasn’t certain if it was possible for my boyfriend to be full of any more crap in one night, but he for sure continued to amaze me with his out-of-this-world lies. “He’s actually a good friend of Lucy’s,” he said effortlessly. Graham was far from my friend, even though he was the only thing that felt right in the room that evening. “Lucy, do you think you can introduce him?”
“Um, sure, of course.” I smiled at the excited couple and led them over to speak with Graham. “Hey, Graham.”
He stood up and smoothed out his suit then placed his hands in front of him, fingers knotted. “Lucille.”
“Are you having a good time?” I asked.
He remained silent, awkwardly so. After a moment, I cleared my throat and gestured toward the couple. “This is Warren and Catherine. They are—”
“Two of your biggest fans,” Catherine exclaimed, reaching out and grabbing Graham’s hand, shaking it rapidly. Graham gave her a big smile, which was fake and forced, also known as his ‘author brand’ smile, I assumed.
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