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He nods. “She said I needed to push you out of the nest. I may push you out but I’m not about to let you fall.”
Damn why does he always know exactly what to say? What I need to hear? I couldn’t stay mad at him if I tried. I look into those beautiful hazel eyes and thank my lucky stars he’s mine. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
“Zoey,I’m so thrilled you’ve agreed to let my gallery display your work. I see a great collaboration between you and me,” Sophia says. “We’ve had a few promising artists come through, but no one with your reputation and following.”
The meeting has gone well. I’ve managed to smile, be polite, and responded at all the appropriate times. I even managed to control the need to squirm, fidget and scratch.
I’ve known Sophia for a long time which is part of the reason for putting this meeting off for so long. I, irrationally, worry that people who know me will take one look and know I’m different. Damaged.
My worry is ridiculous. I know this now. Weeks and weeks of therapy have helped me realize that I have nothing to be ashamed of. I was a victim, and I didn’t do anything wrong.
It doesn’t change the illogical side of me that doesn’t want anyone to know. I don’t want the judgment that I probably wouldn’t get anyway, or the pity that is inevitable. People’s reactions to things like this are normal. According to Dr. Thompson, Dr. Lansing, and Janie, my reaction has been seen many times as well.
I smile at Sophia warmly as I can manage. I have a feeling it looks as forced as it is. “I’m not too sure about all of that, but I’m glad you’ve offered. It’s been a while since I’ve had anything displayed in an actual galley. I hope you aren’t disappointed.”
“You work is awesome, Zoey,” Zane says like any honorable twin would. “No one could possibly be disappointed.”
I refrain from giving some smart alek comment back at him. A knee jerk reaction when my brother is being nice to me. Of course, it’s always done in love because that’s just who we are.
“I agree. You won’t be a disappointment,” Sophia reiterates. “But not because your work is good. You know as well as I do there are a lot of good artist out there who’s work never see the light of day. It’s because you work garners interest. Some of it is original and unique. Some is dark. Some is very commercial. You are a versatile and talented artist, and you can feel the emotion from each piece. You work speaks to people which in turn equals sales.”
I gape at her for a moment before regaining my composure. She hasn’t said anything I don’t already know. Being able to paint a picture or draw something pretty doesn’t mean much. There are plenty of people that can do it. When you can take a feeling or emotion and translate it onto canvas, paper, film, or even in words? When something speaks to a person, even if what it means to the artist isn’t what it means to the viewer, that’s something else altogether. That’s what I always wanted my art to do for people, and I think it does.
I haven’t stopped working since what happened to me. I’ve painted a storm. I have drawn picture after picture. Sold quite a few on my website. More than few actually, but I have even more in storage in a unit here in River City where I had them shipped.
“She’s right, Angel. Just like there are a million people out who can throw a football, but not everyone can throw it eighty-five yards into the arms of a receiver. Not everyone can draw a crowd. I’m not saying this because I’m arrogant. You know that, but I’m also not stupid about what I can do. What Zane can do. What you can do.”
I laugh at their continuous compliments. “You all act like this is a sales pitch. I’ve already agreed. In fact, Sophia was really the one who needed to agree.”
“Hmph,” she snorts. “There was no question that I wanted you for the gallery, Zoey. We just needed to agree to terms.”
I nod. We agreed to terms that were much more beneficial to me than the gallery. Far more lucrative than any agreement I had in New York.
“Well, then I guess we’re in agreement. Thirty percent commission is more than fair. I can have a few pieces delivered tomorrow.”
She nods, extending her hand which I accept. “I’ll email you the contract as soon I get back to my office.”
The boys stand, like the gentlemen they pretend to be, when she stands.
Once she is gone, I turn a sharp glare to both of them. “Next time, just tell me what the hell you have planned instead of this ambush crap.”
“Would you have come if we’d told you?” Zane asks snarkily.
“Well, we won’t ever know. Now will we?” I bite back.
Jax reaches over, pulling my chair closer to him. “You wouldn’t have come, and you know it,” he says brushing a strand of hair that has fallen into my face away.”
I breathe out a frustrated breath. “Probably not,” I grumble. “But you still shouldn’t have tricked me.”
“Well, it wasn’t my idea,” Zane says, thoroughly throwing Jax under the bus. “I just provided the reason and wouldn’t take no for an answer. In all fairness, I thought this was a horrible idea, and was going to blow up in our faces with an epic temper tantrum.”
“I don’t have temper tantrums,” I pout, but it’s not a real pout. I’m glad they forced me to do this. It was what I needed. I’m just not ready to admit it.
“You do,” Jax says firmly. “But a temper tantrum wouldn’t have been that bad. I’d rather have you fighting than hiding.”
I shake my head, restraining a grin. “Okay. So, it’s done. Let’s go home.”
“Nu-uh, angel,” Jax says placing a hundred-dollar bill on the table.
