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Marley winked at me. “I have some work to do if I want to get your ornaments in every gift shop on the East Coast.”
My mouth dropped open slightly at her proclamation. I had a feeling her idea of dreaming big was slightly different than mine.
“Stick with me. Statements like that won’t shock you so much. In fact, they might just become your reality.” Marley hugged me tight, then left me reeling.
I carried the empty boxes to my car, intending to go home and fulfill the order for Marley’s tree. It would mean adjusting my expenses for the month because I wouldn’t be selling these ornaments. But it could pay off if one of her viewers asked about the ornaments. I hoped they would, but I wasn’t as positive as Marley.
I’d been spending a lot of time with Talon, so it was a little weird to be heading home to work by myself. Talon had an entire workshop in a separate building for his work, and I hoped to have a dedicated room for mine one day. But that dream seemed so far away.
Even with Marley’s enthusiasm, it was hard to see my work as anything other than what it was. A nice hobby that barely paid the bills.
My living room was full of paint supplies and ornaments in various stages of completion. As much as I enjoyed painting the ornaments, I hoped to one day create the ornaments entirely myself. I’d love to have a kiln to blow glass. I could play with the texture and shape, make bird shapes, or tear-dropped ones.
The possibilities were endless and exciting. But for now, I’d need to make do with completing Marley’s order. The entire time I worked, I kept hoping that one person would ask about my ornaments, and Marley would post the link to my online shop on her live feed.
The thought of that kept me going through the night. I didn’t want to let her down, and I wasn’t sure of the exact date she needed them, so I worked all night to complete them. Holiday music played in the background while I worked. I ate whatever I could find in the fridge and kept going.
I wasn’t doing anything different from what a lot of other artists did from time to time. Talon mentioned that he forgot to eat and sleep when he was working on something. This was no different. I just hoped my hard work paid off.
I’d always been told I would never make any money as an artist. That I needed a teaching degree to make any kind of living, but I wasn’t sure that was true either. Or at least, I didn’t want it to be. Talon’s success was part hard work, part luck, and being in the right place at the right time. What was wrong with wishing for that same kind of luck for me?
Chapter 10
Talon
I’d finished a commission piece, and for the first time, I was looking forward to a break. When I woke up, I was refreshed and excited for the first time in I couldn’t remember how long. All I knew was that I wanted to spend time with Hanna.
I decided to surprise her and take her to breakfast. I didn’t have specific plans. I figured we’d play it by ear. She might have work to do, and I could bring us breakfast and help her finish.
Pleased with my plan, I knocked on her door. When no one answered, I checked the time. It was still early, only eight a.m., but I figured she’d be up by now.
I knocked again, my heart picking up the pace. What if something was wrong?
This time, I heard the floorboards creak inside the apartment. Maybe I’d woken her, and she just needed to throw on some clothes before she opened the door. I heard the slide of the chain, and finally, the door unlatched.
Holly’s hair was mussed, and her cheek was red with creases as if she’d slept in one spot for too long.
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
Holly squinted as if she was trying to figure out who I was and what I was doing here. “I must have fallen asleep while I was working last night. What are you doing here so early? Did we have plans?”
“Not exactly. I finished a project and thought we could celebrate with breakfast.”
Holly’s eyes cleared slightly as she opened the door wider and gestured for me to come in. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” I said as I stepped in and paused, seeing the mess that was her living room. Chaotic was the only word I could use to describe it. There were boxes of tissue paper covering the floor. Ornaments drying on parchment paper and others hanging from a contraption she used when she painted.
“What’s all of this?” I asked her.
Holly gathered her hair on the top of her head and placed it into a messy bun before she answered. “I got a big order.” Then she paused and said, “Not an order, exactly. Marley wanted me to decorate a tree for her livestream.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Marley has this huge platform, and she’s planning on adding a new lesson to her biggest course. She said that her viewers notice things in the video, a glass she’s drinking from or a dress, and will ask for a link to purchase it.”
“She thinks that the viewers will want to buy your ornaments?” I asked, genuinely curious about their plans. The way Marley marketed was so different from anything I’d ever done. Mine was primarily through stores carrying my designs and word of mouth.
Holly winced, and I instantly regretted my words. “She was convinced that they would.”
