“You wait until you see your photos curated in the space,” she says, squeezing gently. Excitement dances in her eyes, and a proud smile stretches across her face. “They look absolutely breathtaking. I know I’ve said it before, but you have a brilliant eye. I’m so proud of you.”
As I let Arabella’s words sink in, for a moment I imagine it’s my mama’s voice telling me how proud she is. How she always believed I could do it.
The last letter she wrote me is the reason I’m standing here, but the cost was to pay the ultimate sacrifice. I blink back the tears burning my eyes and give my friend a grateful smile. It’s bittersweet and terrifying to be standing on the cusp of having it all within reach.
She holds my gaze a second longer and lowers her voice. “You deserve this, Chiara,” she says with conviction before gesturing for me to walk into the exhibition space first, the rest of the group filing in behind me.
My breath hitches when the room comes into view. It’s art, but it’s also poetry in motion. Tall, black, grid-like structures are strategically set around the room. Framed photographs of varying sizes are mounted at different points. I let my eyes roam slowly over the warehouse style space with high ceilings, white walls, and concrete floors. It’s minimal aesthetic allows for all attention to be on the photography. The style of lighting for each installation is deliberate to highlight the style of photography. Some are lit with LED lights and others spotlit. I walk deeper into the space, taking in every detail of Natalia’s lauded work. She’s showing two of her newest photo series tonight.The A-List After Hours, a black and white portrait style series, contrasts beautifully with the vivid, colorful scenes of her second series,A Taste Of Sicily, the shoot I assisted her on, which planted the seed for my new life plan. To the other side of that, lit from above, is my photo series:New York. My Heart. My Home. Each shot is black and white with one element in vivid color, a beautiful marriage of the techniques in Natalia’s work. My heart beats wildly. My work is sitting alongside my idol’s. I look up to see the words,One To Watch: Chiara Gigioliottibeamed onto the ceiling.
The faint buzzing under my skin starts up again. Exhilaration and trepidation.
This is the freedom I’ve been working towards. Tonight is the start of all the cards falling into place. The sign I’ve been asking my mama and papa to send me from heaven to prove that maybe I’m worthy of having one good thing in my life. When they left me, all I wished for was the relief that following to the afterlife would bring. But this moment, seeing my work next to Natalia’s, feels like a heaven-sent message. Once I accept this job, I’ll be given the golden ticket to relocate to New York and travel with Natalia for work, securing me an escape from the growing threat of being bartered and used as a bargaining chip for the family business.
“Is this the reason you had me driving all over town freezing my balls off?” comes Marco’s deep voice from close behind me.
I nod but remain transfixed on my photographs.
“Wow. These are incredible. Like you can almost feel what you don’t see.”
Besides Arabella, until today I hadn’t told a soul about being offered the job or that my work would be displayed as part of the exhibition tonight. I didn’t want to tempt fate; it has a way of biting me in the ass.
“That’s the whole point,” I say, “It’s meant to be a window into the soul. Make you feel their inner desires and struggles.”
Right now, I see the possibility of a life where I control my destiny. Still parentless, but no longer shackled to my uncle’s home like a prisoner formy own safety. In this new world I’m building for myself, I’m the dealer.
“Does AJ know how crazy talented you are?”
At the mention of his name, I’m reminded that while Marco hasn’t been obtrusive or overbearing as my babysitter-come-driver, his loyalty lies with my cousin and whatever secret arrangement they have. I don’t have a chance to overthink any of it because a light touch on my shoulder draws my attention.
I turn to see Natalia, who genuinely looks in awe…of my work? Of little old me?
“Chiara, your photos are absolutely phenomenal,” she says, giving me a kiss on the cheek in greeting. “I love the way you’ve added that one flair of color. Almost like you’ve given each subject a beacon of light in the darkness.”
I nod. “Yes. It’s their one bright spot,” I confirm. What I don’t add is how that’s exactly what this opportunity is for me. The small flickering flame of hope where there was once none. All I pray is that the many meddling men in my life don’t find a way to extinguish it.
As though my thoughts conjure my worst nightmare, a familiar gravelly voice slices through my joy like a wrecking ball.
“What did I miss?”
A crushing weight settles on my chest. How stupid I was to think the blood that pumps thorough my veins will not always and forever fuck up every best-laid plan.
“AJ, what are you doing here?” Even to my own ears, my voice sounds somewhere between a squeal and a squeak.
I glare at Marco. His sheepish expression conveys exactly what I already suspected; AJ’s jack-in-the-box appearance is no surprise to him.
But before he can answer and I can try and send him on his merry way, Natalia answers.
“Just admiring how talented my newest team member is.”
AJ looks from her to me, trying to figure out what’s going on, before taking Natalia’s hand.
“Hi, I’m AJ,” he says, kissing her hand, green eyes glinting shrewdly. “How do you two know each other?”
Natalia’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. She glances at me. I give her a tight smile.
No, no, no. Please don’t let him fuck this up for me.
A hushed silence has fallen over the rest of the group who are now all watching on, slightly amused at my cousin’s charming antics.
