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He rubbed his stubble, which was now longer than it was the night before. “I guess that’s the closest I get. They have a chef.”
My eyes widened. “Wow. We are from very different worlds.”
Grayson glanced around my apartment. “Are you sure? This apartment would’ve cost a fortune.”
I followed his gaze. “It did.” I muttered, feeling a little sick about the $1.5 million I spent on it.
“How can you even afford this on your wage?”
I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know how much I earn?”
“Sorry, that was rude of me. I…er…don’t exactly, I’m just guessing this would be a stretch for an unknown photographer.”
I wasn’t offended, because he was right. “Well, you’re spot on. My inheritance paid for this. I didn’t want to live off my parent’s money for the rest of my life, so I invested it all in this apartment. But the fun stuff, like bills and food…that’s up to me. I guess in some way I’m still trying to prove to them I can make it on my own.”
“You seem switched on. I think you’ll do just fine.” He wandered around the large living area, staring at the photos on the walls and the lone couch on the floor. “Did you just move in, or do you spend all your money on artwork instead of furniture.”
I laughed. The small amount of furniture I did own, didn’t do the place any justice. I had a massive open plan living room with polished floorboards and trendy exposed brick walls, yet all I had to compliment it with was a tiny old couch, a small television sitting precariously on a dining chair, my record collection and a torn-up dog bed. At least my walls weren’t empty. They were covered in photographs.
“I’ve actually been living here for almost six years…and the artwork is all mine.”
His mouth dropped, but I couldn’t tell if he was shocked or impressed.
“Looks more like a gallery than a home, doesn’t it?” I continued. “At least I don’t have to worry about Luci destroying anything.”
“Is that why you have no furniture? The dog?”
I should have said yes, but it wasn’t the truth. “The only furniture I have was either given to me or taken off the street.”
Not daring to look up into Grayson’s sympathetic eyes, I concentrated on dishing up our breakfast onto three plates. The third was for Luci, who was drooling profusely at the window, watching my every move.
As we sat side by side at the island bench, hoeing into our meal, Grayson’s eyes glistened as his chewed on the simplest meal known to man.
“Is any of your work for sale?” he asked, scanning my walls for the second time.
“No.” I shrugged and picked up a piece of bacon. “But maybe someday.”
“Why not today?”
I laughed and took a bite. “Why? You want to buy one?”
“I’d buy them all if you’d let me.”
My chewing slowed. I couldn’t tell if he was joking. “It doesn’t feel right selling them. They’re other people’s moments, not mine.”
“But it’s your take on them that makes them so beautiful.”
I shrugged. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was just being nice.
“Those photos at Lenny’s last night, they were yours, weren’t they?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “He thinks he can sell them.”
“I know he could.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “So, when do you fly out?” I asked, pushing the subject back onto him.
He blinked as if he’d forgotten he had somewhere else to be, then sighed. “This afternoon.”
