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She grinned and said, “Okay.”
Mya and I had sex twice more that day and then at least twice a day over the last three weeks.
During the day, she went to work, did her thing, and I did mine. We would have dinner together in the evening and then watch television or sit on the couch and talk.
My opening was next weekend, and I was getting nervous. Douglas Wiseman had come over about two weeks ago and went through all my pieces. He was in agreement with Mya over the cost of my work, and I had a hard time comprehending that I could get that much for the paintings. He even bought one from me right then and said that he’d have a check delivered. Two days later, I received a check for thirty-five grand.
Tears had filled my eyes, and I had dropped to the sofa to stare at the piece of paper. This one check, one painting, was more than I had ever made before, and it was well over double what I had made in total with Mark the entire time I was with him.
The work that I would be able to do for the orphanage would be incredible. Perhaps, I could eventually knock the old building down and build them a new one. Or a better one someplace else. Once I had the money in hand, I would approach the orphanage and see what I could do for them.
I also had two more shows booked—each two months apart. While Mya slept at night, I worked. I painted until the early hours of the morning, and then I’d sleep while she worked.
My image was improving by leaps and bounds, and people were starting to recognize me on the street. My social media followers had exploded thanks to all that Rebecca had done. While I sometimes responded to someone who reached out or commented on something, Rebecca did most of it for me.
The only thing that still sucked in my life was the fight that I had with my ex-wife over the divorce. A court date was set to fight it out before a judge. With the money I had made from Douglas Wiseman, I hired a new attorney that Mya recommended.
I knew that it would be a nightmare in court, but I tried to put it out of my head for the next week. Instead, I put all my focus into the upcoming show.
The day Douglas came over, we had gone through all my finished work, and he had picked out forty pieces that he wanted to display, including the paintings I did of Mya and me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to display them. I had yet to show Mya, but the closer we got to each other, the more I wondered how she’d feel about being a centerpiece at the event.
That decision had to be made today.
On Thursday, there would be a meeting with the entire team to run through the final arrangements. All the paintings would be at the gallery, and the portfolio book would be finished by then. That book would be handed out to each guest that arrived. It would include images of the work and other infomation about the pieces.
I had to figure out if those two pieces would be part of it. Right now, I was leaning towards not including it because I was nervous about including anything personal.
While I was more known, I had been able to keep my life private. Yes, people saw Mya and me in photographs and around town, but those paintings were something deeper.
That image of her showed, in essence, what I felt for her: desire, longing, love. I guess I knew that I would fall in love with her when I met her. My image showed my fear of what she could do to me, how she could break me, destroy me, much like Belinda tried to do.
I didn’t know if I wanted people to see that. As I stared at them in my studio, I made my decision. They would not be included. I called Douglas to advise him which two paintings should be front and center and asked him to update the portfolio book for the guests.
With that decision, I wrapped the paintings and set them aside until I decided what to do with them.
Sadly, that decision would come sooner than later.
