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CHAPTER FOUR
AMANDA
I’m up early Saturday morning, putting the finishing touches on my latest painting. I have a meeting later this morning at the gallery that has been selling my paintings. I want to bring this one with me. I could use the cash.
After getting it finished and dried, I seem to have no time to shower or change my clothes, so I head straight there in my paint-covered jeans and T-shirt. I walk in with my covered painting. Norma, my contact at the gallery, notices me right away. She runs over to me with her assistant, Clara, following a few feet behind her.
Norma screeches, “Amanda! I’m so happy you’re here. I can’t wait to see your latest masterpiece.”
“Thanks, Norma. Hey, Clara.”
Clara gives a small wave. “Hi.”
“I think it came out well. Hopefully someone will be interested in it.”
Norma gives me a knowing smile that I can’t quite read. “I’m confident it will sell quickly.”
“You haven’t even seen it.”
She rubs her hands together in excitement. “Then let’s have a look.”
I remove the cover and she gasps. “Oh, Amanda, it’s exquisite. He’ll love it.”
“Who will love it? You already have someone in mind?”
Clara pinches her eyebrows together. “Of course. Beckett Windsor. He’s purchased nearly all your paintings for the past five years. He asks to be notified as soon as something becomes available.”
Norma snaps, “Clara! Keep your mouth shut.”
Clara’s eyes widen before she hangs her head in disgrace.
I look at Norma in shock. “What do you mean? They haven’t been selling to random customers?Allhave gone to him?”
Norma is silent, practically shooting daggers at Clara.
I’m getting mad. “Norma, answer me.”
She mumbles, “Not all. Maybe ninety percent.”
My chin practically falls to the floor. “You mean to tell me that Beckett Windsor has purchased roughly fifty paintings of mine?”
She scrunches her nose. “Well…yes. Frankly, you should be honored. He’s one of the top collectors in the country. The fact that he’s so enamored with your work speaks volumes.”
I’m seething. “Give me his address. I need to have a chat with him.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not permitted to do that. We have confidentiality issues.”
I grit out, “Well, you can give me his address, or I will start using a different gallery to sell my work. I imagine Mr. Windsor will then gladly take his business elsewhere.”
She thinks for a moment before quickly scurrying away to look it up, and then she scribbles it on a piece of paper and hands it to me.
I run out to my car. I can’t believe he’s been buying nearly all my paintings. I’m angry.Reallyangry. How dare he. I thought I was finally seeing success. It turns out, I’m his pity project.
BECKETT
It’s late Saturday morning and I’m on my iPad, catching up on the news. I’m drinking my juice while I hear Mom and Andie laughing in her playroom. There’s nothing better than the sound of your child’s laughter.
I love her relationship with my mother. They’re incredibly close. Mom is so patient with Andie, which is why I’m patient with my mother. I know she’s always well-intended, despite her unending desire to intrude into my personal life.
