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“Remi, I’m doing just fine,” I said. “I don’t need that corporate garbage in my life right now.”
“Come,” Demi said. She pointed. “Look at that painting and tell me that’s not brilliant.”
To my shock Demi pointed to the painting I had done while Riff touched me.
Thepleasure painting.
Remi stared and shrugged his shoulders. “What am I looking at?”
“My artwork,” I said.
“And this pays the bills?”
You prick.
Actually, the guy you hate the most is paying the bills.
All I do is fuck him.
It’s a great exchange.
“Forgive me for this,” Demi said as she grabbed at Remi’s shirt. “You speak like that about another piece of artwork in here again and I’ll drag your jock ass out to the street and break your legs, then leave you there to rot.”
Remi curled his lip at Demi.
She smiled, released her hold on Remi’s shirt, and then gently touched his face. “Now, I’ll leave you and Fiona to chat for a bit. I need to go sit down. If you see anything you’d like, I can give you a family discount.”
Demi slowly walked away.
Remi looked at me.
“She’s a tough one,” I said.
“This is what you’ve been doing?”
“Yes, Remi. And you know what? I’m happy. I know this isn’t what you want for me. But I’m painting again. Actually painting. I haven’t painted like this since…”
Remi’s jaw tightened. “I just want you to be okay.”
“I am okay.”
“How are you actually surviving, Fiona?”
“I know you’re being the tough big brother right now and I love you for that, Remi, but I’m going to say something. Fuck off.”
“Oh?”
“That’s right. Just fuck off. My life. My business. And I’m willing to bet if your wife was standing here next to you, she’d agree with me. Right?”
“You’re right,” Remi said. “So give me a tour. What’s what around here.”
“Well, this is one of my paintings,” I said. “I know it looks like a mess of lines and colors, but it has meaning. Maybe this style doesn’t speak to you. There’s a lot in this gallery.”
“And Demi?”
“She is who she is. I’m happy here, Remi. I get to hang around and paint. Draw. Sketch. Talk to Demi about life and art. I’m really enjoying it.”
“No desire for a real job?”
