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“Where do you get the pictures?” Austin asked as he continued to flip through the gallery.
“I usually start with photos.” I answered
“Where do you get the photos?”
“I take them.”
“Nina,” He turned and looked at me again, “this stuff is really good. How many do you have altogether?”
“Well, probably a few hundred. I started doing the digital stuff my junior year, but it’s only been the last 6 months or so since I found the app that I like to use for it.”
“Do you mind if I show these to some people?” He had that look on his face like he was plotting something. But what did I care? I gave him my website address where all my stuff is already on display (in low resolution, of course) for the whole world to criticize.
Several weeks later, Austin came home and told me that he had someone who was interested in buying some of my work. If I was interested in selling it. So I went with him to his office in town where Austin introduced me to an Asian guy who looked like he was 16. Austin introduced his friend as “Brent.”
Brent was actually 25, he was raised here in the states and now he lived in Singapore where he ran a multi-billion dollar software company. Brent said he really liked my art and was interested in purchasing some of it for his offices. He had looked through my website and had picked out several pieces that he wanted to have printed on big metal sheets.
When he asked how much I wanted for the exclusive rights to each of the pieces he’d chosen I had no idea what to say. I didn’t even know if I was ready to sell the rights to any of my pieces. The idea that I’d never be able to sell prints of those same pieces again kinda changed my concept of what my work was worth.
Brent nodded his understanding and handed me a small piece of paper. When I unfolded it and saw the number written in neat print, I did my very best not to gasp out loud. A hundred thousand dollars was more money than I’d ever expected to see at one time in my life.
I smiled at Brent and graciously accepted his offer, trying to sound as calm and professional as possible. He shook my hand and complimented me again on my work, promising that he would be sure to share my name with anyone who complimented
his new office artwork.
Austin walked Brent out of the office while I sank back down in a chair and held Brent’s hand written offer against my chest. I breathed deep. A hundred thousand dollars!
It was nowhere near the kind of money that Austin was dealing with but it was still more than most people made in a year. While I waited for Austin to come back, I thought about all the things I could do with the money, but I knew I’d better ask Austin for his advice on how to invest it. Who knew when I might have another big sale like this.
Austin came back to the office, closing the door behind him to give me a wide grin, “Wow! Nina! that was awesome!” He pulled me out of my chair and hugged me tightly against him. He was elated about my sale, but suddenly all I could think of was him. The feel of him against me. His strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me off of my feet to spin me around the room, pinned against his hard chest so tightly I could feel muscles against my breasts.
I wrapped my arms around his neck for balance and found my face dangerously close to his. Our eyes locked on each other and Austin’s mouth moved just a little closer to mine. My breath hitched in my chest as I prepared for the feel of his lips against mine. Then, suddenly I was back on my feet looking up at those stormy eyes smiling down on me— from a distance.
A week later, Austin came home and dropped an official looking envelope on the desk in front of me where I had been working in his office. I recognized the name of Brent’s software company on it so I ripped it open. I pulled out the check that represented my first real art sale and dropped my jaw when I found myself staring at the $700,000 in the little box for the amount of the check.
I stared at it. I read the line where the amount was written out in full. I stared at the number again. I looked at Austin who was standing above me, beaming down at me proudly. I handed him the check with a quizzical look on my face— too stunned to verbalize my question.
Austin frowned, “Not right?” he asked as he took the check from me. He looked at it calmly and then handed it back casually— as if it had been a $20 check from our grandparents for a birthday present or something, “What’s wrong with it?” He asked.
“Uh…” I stammered, “Is that a tip?” I had no idea how rich people did things, but over half a million dollars seemed like an awful lot of money for a tip.
Realization spread across Austin’s face. That wide, easy smile took over his face and he began laughing at me.
I felt my face turning red, blushing so hard I could feel the tops of my ears burning. I had no idea what was so funny to him, but it didn’t seem funny to me.
“Austin. Please be serious for a minute.” I pleaded, “It’s not funny. I don’t get it.” I was confused and his laughing was making me feel stupid. I was getting pretty upset for a girl who was holding a check for nearly three quarters of a million dollars. The frustration was getting the better of me and my eyes started to water.
Austin saw my expression turn cloudy and immediately stopped laughing at me. He was positioned directly in front of me in a flash, kneeling on the carpet between my knees with his hands planted firmly on the tops of my thighs. He looked up directly into my eyes, “I wasn’t making fun of you, Neen. You just seemed so confused, I thought it was cute. It’s nice to see someone who isn’t jaded by these kinds of numbers.” He moved his hands slightly higher on my thighs, so slightly I almost didn’t notice. “You know, I work with all these people who are so used to seeing nine zeros at the end of every number, and then you’re totally stunned by a check you already knew was coming. It was really refreshing and I…”
