“I don’t follow.” I really don’t. Who cares if they’re single?
Nate roars in laughter. “You’re wasting your breath, Aaron. Bastian has never seen it and never will. Women can lick the sweat off his arm and he assumes they’re thirsty. He’s only had eyes for one woman, well two now, but he truly is oblivious to his appeal.”
I give him a cross look and he shrugs his shoulders as if to say, “you know it’s true.”
“I won’t lie, Aaron. That felt pretty freaking good. I’m an artist, not an MMA fighter. Women don’t flock to me.”
“There was a huge write-up on you and Ferry in the paper this morning and a blip on the news last night. Not only were both of your pictures shown, the reporters kindly announced you’re both single, and your estimated net worth.”
“My what?” I laugh. I have no worth. “My net worth? They told all these women I’m broke?”
“Bastian has no clue what his financial situation is. Ignore his stupidity.” Nate smacks me up side the back of the head.
“What the fuck, man?” I laugh because he’s right. Nate has always taken care of mine and Sylvie’s finances. He’s into wealth management; I figure it is better to let him do what he’s good at. “I have financial worth?”
“You two are a mess. If the news reporters are correct, yes, you have substantial worth, as do your paintings. Sadly, there are none remaining for sale for the public but they’ll get to see what you brought.”
“Seriously?”
“Sold out last night. I thought Ferry told you. It happened before he left. He asked continuously about sales, I assumed he was sharing the information with you.”
“I’m blown away. Completely. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to selling out a show.”
“I can sell anything you’re ready to let go of.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“He’s got a ton of paintings at home. Do you ever do any type of online sales events?”
“I haven’t in the past but I would certainly be open to giving it a shot. As hot as he is people don’t seem to care about seeing things in person. They just want the work.”
“Great. I’ll get some shots to you and give you my contact information. Let’s see what we can get working. It would be a great way for you to give people here tonight an option to get one of his paintings. It would bring a lot of traffic to your website as well.”
They’re talking as if I’m not standing here and like Nate is my manager, or my pimp.
“Let’s talk more later. We’ll absolutely move forward with this if Bastian’s in agreement.” I shrug my shoulders. I don’t care if they want to pimp me like a street hooker. Marketing has never been my strong suit so if someone else wants to do the work, I don’t mind paying a commission.
The crowd gets loud again with the announcement of Ferry’s arrival. Thank God he’s on time tonight. I think Aaron might have had a complete meltdown if forced to deal with Ferry’s inconsiderate ass two nights in a row. Thankfully, he’s also alone. Once inside, Aaron gives us a couple minutes to get a glass of wine, mentally preparing for the onslaught of single women decked out in their finest trying to woo a man.
As the flock files in I realize I have no idea how Sera is getting here, or if she’s even coming. “Any idea how Sera’s getting here tonight?” I ask my trusty sidekick.
“None.”
Nate doesn’t leave my side, hanging on like he’s my co-pilot. He knows I don’t have a clue what to do with women flirting. If they had a true interest in art, I’d be able to talk to them all night, but those are few and far between in this crowd and are primarily men with a trophy on their arm. I welcome their distraction from the flirtatious crowd, attempting to draw them in to longer conversations. There’s a fantastic couple who flew in from a little town outside Paris. Their intention was to be here last night but with travel issues were unable to make it. Serious collectors. I’m astounded to learn they purchased Black Clutch by phone moments after the show opened last night. They’re just now seeing it.
The woman squats in the most feminine fashion, ignoring her husband and myself. Touching the painting is normally highly frowned upon (but since she owns it, she can do whatever she wants to it). She traces the shapes of the lady’s dress, working her way up the folds of her oil painting fabric. Reaching the clutch, she stops for an extenuating amount of time on the buckle. Turning to her husband with tears in her eyes, she cries, “Felipe, regardez le pont de l’amant à Paris.” She points to the square forming the clasp on the clutch.
Taking note of what she sees, he turns to me. “We got engaged on that bridge so many years ago. I can’t believe she found that image among the hundreds on the portrait. It’s perfect for us and our collection.”
“I’m glad. Nothing thrills me more than a piece of my art touching someone else’s life. The piece seems to belong to your wife.”
The room stops moving or maybe just my world does. I know the instant Sera arrives. Her laugh calls my attention away from Felipe and his wife, and I excuse myself to find her. By the door, she’s talking to Aaron, enchanting him as she does everyone she comes in contact with. It never ceases to amaze me how elegant she is in these settings and how casual she is in any other, both making her exactly who she is.
“Aaron, I see you’ve met Sera.” Taking her hand, I kiss the top before she brings me in, kissing each cheek.
“Sunshine.” Her voice is as warm as the rays of light she calls me by. I beckon her to twirl for me with the raise of her hand. Stunning. The gown she has on, a deep eggplant color, is a Dupioni silk-type fabric, off the shoulder, and highlights her beautiful neckline. It has long sleeves down to her wrists, and the dress hangs on each curve as though the design was around her. Where it reaches the floor, just the tip of her manicured toe peeks out occasionally. Her jewelry is simplistic as always; she’s wearing a pearl necklace and earrings. It’s nothing ostentatious—understated elegance. Her hair pulled back into a loose bun at the base of her neck exposes her long, thin neck. I’d love nothing more than to pepper her exposed shoulder with kisses. She must sense what I’m thinking as her cheeks blush the softest pink on her fair skin.
“I’m so glad you could make it. I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”
“Nate’s so dramatic. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I’m so proud of you, Bastian.”
All thoughts of irritation with her behavior vacate with the slightest smell of her barely-there perfume. With the soft smile and the way she calls me Sunshine, the moment she speaks she has me enraptured. I wish I thought she felt the same.
With her arm in mine, I escort her to meet the few people I’ve gotten to know in the last couple of days worth talking to, stopping to look at the work. Her movements are slower than normal, she plays it off as gazing at the art but there’s literally nothing new for her to see. She picked every one of my pieces that hang in this gallery. I can’t prove it and certainly won’t ask right now but by the way she’s moving and the dress she chose, she’s hiding bruises or something worse. The dress is stunning, yet it covers everything but her shoulders. She winces when she takes a long stride. It’s brief, so, had I been looking at anything other than her face, I would’ve missed it.
“Sera?” I stop to catch her and give her a moment to steady herself.
“I’m fine, Bastian. This is your night. Let’s enjoy it.” End of discussion.
Bringing it up again will only erupt in an argument and I don’t want her running off in an unfamiliar city with no one to call. I have to acknowledge, never calling her ass out on this does not help the situation; it only enables it. I’m going to have to take my balls back from her at some point and nail her ass to the wall and beat the shit out of who ever is hurting her. I can’t sit idle anymore. I care way too much about her to allow someone to hurt her. This attack had to have been really bad for her to still feel the residual effects several days later. Making mental note to address this when we’re back home, I
let it go for tonight.
“Oh, I almost forgot to ask since I haven’t seen you in a couple of days. Markus Finstin is opening at The West End the week after next. Do you want to go? It’s black tie but I’m sure you can get away with your funky Chucks. Tara won’t boot you at the door.” Her smile melts my soul and warms the entire room. I could never say no.
“Seriously? How did Tara nail him? He’s huge these days. Have you seen his work?” This guy works completely with recycled materials, also known as trash.
“No clue how she got him. I thought he was international but you know she can lure the most elite. So what do you say? Dinner and art? Perfect night in my book.”
“Of course. I can’t wait.”
Out of nowhere, Ferry grabs my arm, turning me to him, and rudely dismisses Sera. “Do you have a minute, Bastian?” Turning back to her, I apologize while excusing myself. Whatever has Ferry’s snit in a snag better be good. “Why do you refuse to heed my warnings?”
“Warnings about what?” I’m in utter disbelief he is doing this here. Right now. With tons of people around. What in the actual hell is he thinking?
“Her. I keep telling you she’s bad for your image but you don’t seem to want to listen. There’s press here as there was last night. You need to keep in mind who they see you with and what will be portrayed in papers or on news feeds.”
My smart-ass mouth takes a front seat, sick of his attitude. “Oh, so it would be better for the world to think Nate and I are gay? I should stick to him like glue, right?”
“Why do you have to stick to anyone, just mingle. Enjoy the people here.”
“Look, Ferry, I don’t know what your problem is with Sera and I really don’t care. I’m not dating her or anyone else for that matter. The press will spin whatever web they decide to tell. I would be thrilled if they portrayed me as heterosexual, regardless of the woman, but I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be proud if it were Sera. She’s a friend. You need to lighten up.”
Turning to leave, he grabs my arm with more force than I’m willing to tolerate. I may come across as mild-mannered but the fact is I’m a pretty big guy and Nate and I have gone more rounds than I can count. I always hold my own.
“This is your last warning, Bastian. Stay the fuck away from her.”
“And this is the last time I’m going to tell you, fuck off.” I jerk my arm from his grasp with exaggerated force.
Our conversation must’ve been a tad more public than I realized because Sera heard every word. Going back to her, I see tears streaming down her face. She blots at them trying to keep from destroying her makeup but every one she catches causes three more to fall. Handing her a handkerchief from my pocket, she continues to wipe at her eyes.
Unaware, or simply not caring about who’s around, I take her face in my hands, looking at her features and studying her eyes. My thumbs wipe away the few straggling tears before I kiss her forehead, and bring her into my shoulder in a hug. There are cameras flashing around me. I’m sure the press caught the moment on film. My arm still around her, I walk her to the bathroom to freshen up.
I catch Ferry watching me, giving me an evil eye. It takes everything I have to keep myself from giving him the middle finger salute but with press around, I don’t need to stir up any more than I already have.
Nate witnessed the exchange as well, which means surely there was a member of the press lurking that caught it word for word to print tomorrow. Luckily for me, I didn’t say anything disparaging…I don’t think.
“You realize you have to ride roughly twelve hours home with him, right? Probably not the best idea to piss off the driver,” Nate warns me.
“Like hell. I’m not riding anywhere with him. I’ll get Aaron to book me a flight home. I don’t really have anything other than luggage to take back anyhow.”
“I hope you haven’t just made an enemy of someone who might destroy you after he helped make you.”
“Seriously, Nate? He photographed my work; he didn’t hold my hand while I painted. I’m doing fine on my own. What the hell should I’ve done? I wouldn’t let him talk shit about you, and I’m not going to let him do it about Sera.”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine what his issue with her would be but he’s got a big mouth and can make big waves. You’re going to need to figure out how to ride them instead of being consumed by them.”
Rolling my eyes at his melodrama, I say, “Look, do me a favor and keep an eye on Sera for the rest of the night. Don’t let him get to her, please?”
“You owe me big time for this entire trip, Bastian. I don’t play babysitter to women I’m taking home to fuck, much less those I never intend to see naked.”
32
I lucked out. Aaron’s staff managed to book me a flight out, thereby avoiding Ferry. I’ll end up seeing him around town but hopefully things will have cooled off by then and we can be civil. We certainly won’t be working or traveling together again, but hopefully we can be pleasant if we run into each other. The art community is tightly knit, so neither one of us needs any more negative publicity than the press is already going to spin coming out of this trip. It was a profitable venture for both of us. I never keep tabs on the sales, but if I sold everything I took, I did really well.
The trip home is awkward. Sera’s unusually quiet, barely making eye contact with either of us. I’m not sure what happened between her and Nate last night but both of them each ignore the other using me as the middleman. Last time I checked, we’re all adults but today they both need a fucking time out. Being between two people who have no interest in speaking to one another is a royal pain in the ass. Add lack of sleep and some pretty fucked-up situations in the last couple of days and I’m just not up for dealing with their shit.
“Why don’t you take my seat next to Nate?” Aaron managed to get me on the same flight but obviously not a seat next to theirs. She doesn’t need to be flying alone. I realize we’ll all be on the same plane but I don’t like the thought of her sitting by herself.
“I’ll take Bastian’s seat, you two sit together.” Nate is forever the gentleman…at least when you set aside his surly tone.
“That won’t be necessary.” She looks away responding to thin air.
“Seriously, you two. This is asinine. What the hell happened over the last couple of days that you aren’t even on speaking terms and won’t sit next to each other on a plane but are fine with sitting next to strangers?”
Neither answer, both just glaring at the other.
“Okay, let’s try a different approach.” This is crazy. We’re sitting in an airport terminal with them acting like children and me being the rational adult. “Sera, you know, Nate freaked out when you left the hotel and essentially disappeared. I appreciate you’re an adult free to do what you want but common courtesy is to tell your roomie if you’re returning or not. Why don’t you apologize to Nate for being inconsiderate and let’s move on.”
“Inconsiderate? Are you kidding me? I don’t answer to Nate or you for that matter. I went out. Big freaking deal. I’m single and in my twenties. If I want to stay out all night, I can.”
Nate is fiercely protective but can’t stand ignorance. “Yes, inconsiderate. We’re in a strange city where people are mugged and raped daily. All you had to do was say you were meeting someone or going out with a friend. Anything would have been better than disappearing from a goddamn bar with God knows who.”
“Grow up, Nate. I’m not the innocent little wallflower you think I am. I can handle myself in a big city.”
“Oh, just not at home?” He snaps back at her. Their voices are getting louder with each exchange. I probably should try to stop it but in my estimation this is the only way either of them is going to let it go, to get it out.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She sits straight up in her seat, staring him down, daring him to keep going. He’s never one to back down from a challenge.
“Lift up your sleeves and I’ll show you
.” Further confirming what I assumed last night when she was walking so gingerly, I discern that she was hurt recently and he saw the evidence for himself.
He took it too far. “Nate,” I growl, warning him to shut up. I’ve never divulged any information to him but you’d have to be a fool to miss the signs of abuse covering her body most days. No one’s that clumsy.
Sera directs her attention to me. “Have you been feeding Nate the bullshit you think you know something about?”
“First of all, no. I haven’t talked to Nate, or anyone else, about anything personal I’ve discussed with you. Secondly, you need to draw in your stinger. The only reason people get so upset seeing you black and blue is because they care about you. Nate included.”
“You don’t get it, Sera. You think you know Bastian really well. You guys are tight, right?” She gives him the obligatory nod. “What you don’t know, what you haven’t taken into consideration, is, I will not tell him another woman he cares for is gone. I refuse to try to clean up that mess again. This one has taken almost six years. Six years, Sera. So while you have every right to do what you want as a grown woman, you need to think about who you’re implicating in your immature hysteria. If these are the games you want to play, do it on your own time, not on my fucking watch.”
Stunned, she turns to me with tears in her eyes, threatening to fall. She’s silent, watching my face for an unseemly amount of time before acquiescing. “I’m sorry, Bastian. He’s right.”
“It’s not me you need to apologize to. I wasn’t aware any of it was going on. I was living my own hell at the time.”
Her submissive nature takes over and, with her eyes cast downward, she apologizes to him. I don’t think she’s apologizing for her behavior but more so the position she potentially put him in and how he must have felt wondering where she was for hours. But that’s just my own speculation since the only two words she utters are, “I’m sorry.”
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