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“Plus, you do know what you want out of life. It’s just the money part you don’t have put together quite yet.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You want to live, Macie. You want to have every experience there is out there. You’re spontaneous, you’re daring. You want everything you can get from life.” He smiled at me. “That’s part of what drew me to you. How full of life you are. You want to leave a mark on the world. Make it a better place than it was when you found it.” He swiped his thumb across my cheek. “And I can’t promise you’ll leave that mark on the entire world, but I can promise that you’ve left a mark on me. You’ve reminded me that no matter how dark life gets, there is always light within it, and finding that light is worth wading through the darkness. You’ve made me a better man for that, better than I was when you found me.”
Tears pricked behind my eyes as I turned to face him. One droplet spilled over, but he caught it with his thumb, swiping it away. “Dom,” I whispered, unable to form any other word. He shook his head, as if telling me there was nothing else to say.
He brought his lips to my forehead and planted a soft kiss there before saying, “The only thing you’re stuck on is figuring out how to fund this life you want to live, but we’ll get there.”
I sighed, leaning my head against his shoulder. “How did you get so wise?”
“I’ve lived a lot of life in my twenty-four years, baby.”
“Oh God, please don’t remind me that you’reyoungerthan me. Not right now.”
He laughed, flipping over and on top of me so that he was straddling my legs and pinning me to the mattress. He braced his arms on the headboard, leaning into my lips. “Cougars are hot.” He kissed me briefly before leaping off the bed. “I know we promised to stay in all day, but I have something I want to show you. I think I might have an idea.”
I raised a brow at him, but he only pulled me up and made me get dressed.
I’d only briefly taken a look through the bottom floor of the apartment complex when I first saw it after moving in with Penelope. We always entered and exited the building through the back door that opened directly into the stairwell. I’d briefly remember Carter mentioning something about opening a studio. No. Gallery? Museum? He wanted to put something artsy in here. He said it in passing when we were moving our things into our apartment.
I followed Dom to the front of the building. There were paneled windows that faced the beach across the street. To the left of those windows was a door that led outside, and what looked like a reception counter next to the door. Behind that counter there was another door. Dom walked to it and put a key in the lock before pushing it open.
“Has Carter told you what he wants to do down here?”
I shook my head as we stepped through the door. It was a small room. Empty, save for a box of art supplies stuffed into the corner, a tattered sheet covering the floor, and an easel with a half-completed painting of what looked to be a jungle or a forest. There were other canvases propped up against the wall, all turned backward so the contents of them weren’t visible. A large window sat on the far side of the room, shrouding it in natural light.
Dom squatted down and began flipping over the canvases. I gasped as I took in each one. Some were paintings, and others were photos. All of them were beautiful landscapes. Waterfalls, forests, oceans, and mountains. Except one. The largest canvas in that room was a photo of Penelope. I’d seen that one before. I knew it was something Carter had created. But the rest of it– I knew Penelope spent some weekends down here, in her rare free time from school or her internship. I knew she liked to paint. I had no idea she was creating pieces so detailed and beautiful.
“He wants to open a gallery.”
I pulled my eyes from the paintings and looked at Dom. “Okay?”
He chuckled. “He wants to open an art gallery, and he’s been having a tough time getting started with the apartment renovations and getting units filled.” He smiled at me softly. “Maybe he could use some help.”
I crossed my arms. “Dom,” I said, “I’m not going to barge in and get involved unless Carter asks.”
He leaned against the doorway, crossing his own arms. “And if he asked? Would you help him? Do you think you’d enjoy it?”
I peeked past him and gazed into the open room beyond. I wasn’t an artist like my friends. I couldn’t paint or draw, I didn’t like to take photos. I didn’t see the world in the colors that they did. I couldn’t create something from nothing.
But I could entertain. I could look good. I could make other things look good too. I knew how to pull a room together. I knew how to talk to people. How to make something seem a lot more interesting than it might be. I knew how to draw in eyes, how to catch attention.
Maybe that’s an art form, too.
I looked at the room again and could already see the gallery appearing in my head. Knowing where I’d hang things, how I’d decorate to hold attention. Event ideas began to bloom in my mind. Events we could put on to promote, to connect with artists and buyers, to connect with the community. Colors appeared in my mind then, too. The outside of the building would need to be painted. We’d need to have signs made that would catch the attention of those walking on the street. A vision was taking root. I could see it there, in my head. I could see all the ways I would make it real.
I blinked, my eyes catching Dom’s again. He was smiling at me as if he saw all of those thoughts. Those roots and blooms. I smiled back.
“So, where do we start?” he asked.
“I want to paint an accent wall behind that reception desk. It’s the first thing people will see when they walk through the door. Before they see any of the artwork itself. The interior walls should stay white, because we’ll have art hanging on them anyway. But the reception area will be for people to check in with staff, ask questions, and make purchases. It should be set apart from the rest of the gallery. A different color.”
“Blue?”
I shook my head. “There is enough blue. Outside we have the ocean and the sky. In here, we’ll have more blue paintings and portraits then we’ll know what to do with. We need something that can contrast that. Something eye-catching.”
His smile was so bright it was almost blinding.
