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"It takes the wax four hours to melt the first time. And you should toss the used wax from your hands after it cools instead of reusing it. I'll make sure more wax is delivered on a regular basis." He'd read all the instructions. "Would you like to set it up in your room?"
"Oh yes, please. I'll get one of the aides to help me this afternoon."
After filling the paraffin wax, he and Charlie took Francine to lunch, then a drive, along with a stop for coffee and a bit of cake. By the time they returned, the wax had melted. They helped her dip, put on the plastic gloves, then add the mittens that would help retain the heat.
The bliss on Francine's face was worth every moment he'd spent scouring the internet, and the kiss Charlie gave him melted his bones like the paraffin. He would do anything to make things better for them. He hadn't been able to save his parents, but he would for damn sure make life easier for Charlie and her mother.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
With Sebastian, Charlie had quickly learned, everything moved fast. The following Monday, though he'd already been out of town for the past several days, he told her, "I've got a gig down in Los Angeles and I'd like you to come with me." He'd held her hand and looked at her with his dark, hot eyes. "I knows it's time away from your work on the chariot and horses, but I miss you and don't want to leave you again so soon."
If a heart could have turned over, that's what hers did, just as it had every time he surprised her with yet another of his sweet thoughts or actions. His consideration was innate, bred into him with years of caring for his parents even when they hadn't wanted it.
Now that she knew exactly what selling more pieces could do for her mother's way of life, Charlie had been toiling maniacally since Sebastian had sold the rams. She couldn't work on the chariot twenty-four seven without the risk of making both creative and technical mistakes that would be difficult to correct. So, during what she called her creative breaks, she'd started a couple of new projects, mostly animals for the menagerie she now believed someone might actually want. Sebastian had also arranged for the T-Rex to be brought over to the new studio and she was working on finishing that too.
The truth was that by the time he'd asked her to come to L.A. with him, she'd been feeling tired and a little burned out--a rare thing for her, when she'd always worked at a steady but reasonable pace. A day watching Sebastian do his thing would be pure pleasure.
So now here she was, occupying a special reserved seat in the front row of a sold-out fifty-thousand-seat auditorium. They were all here for Sebastian. People chattered and programs fluttered as the audience began taking their seats for his grand entrance. She'd left him backstage with a kiss--a really hot one that she could still feel tingling on her lips. As an usher escorted her to her seat, her heart was pounding and her palms were sweaty, as though she were the one about to stand up in front of all these people. Whereas Sebastian had been as calm as if they were having a quiet dinner on his terrace.
Charlie couldn't say what she'd imagined one of his presentations would be like, but this was mind-boggling. The stage stood in the middle of the arena. Cameras were trained on the center, with its single stand for a glass and a carafe of water, while special lighting beamed down. Sebastian told her the workshop would be filmed for later syndication to TV stations, as well as DVDs and audio downloads.
He'd called it a workshop, but this was like a rock star's performance. Since Sebastian had slowed down to just a handful of appearances a year, the place was packed. Everyone clearly wanted a piece of him.
The lights dimmed, voices hushed, and that was when she realized she'd gotten it wrong. This wasn't a rock concert, where fans shrieked and screamed. It was the symphony, where a reverent silence fell and everyone in the audience waited, breaths held, to be swept away by the magic. Just as Sebastian had swept her away so many times since she'd first met him.
A spotlight snapped on, illuminating Sebastian, who was halfway down an aisle to the stage. The clapping started then, rising until it was deafening. Charlie jumped to her feet too, beating her hands together. She'd understood that he was a celebrity with beaucoup bucks, but she hadn't understood this, the adulation, the way people reached out to touch him as he passed.
Then he was in front of her, leaning in for a quick kiss and flashing that killer smile, leaving her dazed, until she blinked and realized he was now on stage. His dark suit and white shirt were beacons in all the lights shining on him. His sable hair gleamed, and he was utterly gorgeous.
Who wouldn't listen to a man like him?
He raised his hands and waved people back to their seats. "Welcome." His voice boomed out of the microphone clipped to his lapel. There were indistinguishable shouts in return.
"Today is all about you. About your life and what you want it to be. I don't have guiding principles to give you, just a little common sense. But here's the thing about common sense. Sometimes we're just too close to see it. And sometimes we need help from outside ourselves to understand it."
He moved around the stage, circling slowly so that he could address the full audience. The lights were blinding, and Charlie wasn't sure how much he could see. Until he paused in front of her and smiled. That was when she knew he saw everything. Absolutely everything.
"So let me ask you. Do you believe in yourself? Do you believe you deserve happiness and prosperity? Because that's where you have to start."
Four big-screen TVs were mounted above the stadium seating. He was up there in brilliant Technicolor, and she watched his larger-than-life image as he moved around the stage. Most people would have been dwarfed by the huge screens, but Sebastian looked stronger than ever. Charlie couldn't help a fleeting wish that his parents had lived to see him on stage, just once, to see that he'd made something amazing of himself. And that he hadn't given up, even though they'd disappointed him time and time again.
"Opportunity doesn't suddenly come your way once you start believing in yourself," he continued. "It's that you finally recognize the opportunities already there because you believe they deserve to be there."
He'd walked into her yard full of scraps and sculptures and offered her the world. But he was right--he'd been there because she'd had the guts to stomp up the parish steps of that Chinatown church and tell them they needed her dragon. One opportunity had brought her another. And another.
Best of all, it had brought Sebastian.
She read the same thoughts in the people around her, the way they were all looking inward, acknowledging the things they'd done right, considering the changes they needed to make.
"Some of you probably know about my childhood. About where I came from. It wasn't pretty. Wasn't fun. Wasn't happy. So if I could do it, if I could learn how to believe that I deserved happiness, then you can too." He spoke to her. He spoke to everyone. Fifty thousand people were completely silent, no whispering, no chattering. No one left for a soda or a hotdog or to use the restroom. They couldn't bear to miss a thing, drinking in his every word.
Wanting to believe.
Listening to Sebastian, watching him, feeling him, Charlie wanted to believe too. In this moment, he made her feel as though she truly could do anything. Better yet, he made her feel that she wanted it all too. That she should ignore her hesitation to reach out and grab the glittering brass and diamond rings, and go for it with all she had. Maybe the thought of being a huge star in the art world still didn't sit quite right with her, but she could learn to be comfortable with the thought of being successful. She could do it. Sebastian helped her believe.
"It's not about the money." He laughed, holding up a hand. "I know what you're thinking. Yeah, right." He brushed his palms down his expensive suit. "Seriously, though," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, "money is great, and I hope al
l of you make a lot of it doing what you love, but in the end it's not about the money. Not if you get rich but hate your job while you're doing it. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?" He was greeted with shouts of agreement. "You deserve to enjoy what you do. You deserve to have a job that's a vocation, that has meaning, that gives you satisfaction, and makes you feel like you're giving something back." He paused again with impeccable timing, letting the audience ponder. "Let's talk about how to figure that out."
