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“¿Listos2?” she asks.
I nod my head and then narrow my eyes as I look at Diego. “He’ll be drinking a Flaming Asshole all night long.”
She giggles, and then Diego gets up from the floor. He whispers, “Vale3.”
Everyone bursts out laughing, apart from Diego, but then again he deserves it. He has a lot of making up to do, and it can start right here and now by not fighting me on anything, including what he’s drinking tonight.
1 brother.
2 Are you ready to order?
3 Okay.
34
Diego
To say that I have a bad hangover is an understatement, especially waking up to see too many messages from mi abuela. She’s disappointed and says that if I’m not back by Monday morning then she will put Jorge back as the CEO. She can’t, not without my permission, but mi abuela is sneaky and will find a way to do it. I can’t put anything past her.
“What is it?” Leticia asks as she comes out of the shower. I was so tempted to follow her, but I needed to give her sweet pussy a break. Today it will get some more action, that part I’m confident about.
“Mi abuela.”
“Oh?” she asks as she raises an eyebrow, curious to know what Abuela is up to this time.
“Yeah, she’s like, if I don’t get back into the office on Monday, then I should forget being CEO.
“Where would we be without Abuelas?” she asks, and I chuckle. As much as mi abuela drives me nuts at times, I wouldn’t be here without her. I quickly change the subject, because I don’t want to think let alone talk about where I could be without her.
“I would probably be around Europe searching for my perfectcuadro1.”
“Painting? Why would you need to go in search of it?” I’m confused, but then I don’t know enough about the art world to even pretend I have any clue what she’s talking about. As far as I was concerned, her plan was to get into the Rhode Island Academy, but then we haven’t discussed any of that lately.
“There needs to be the type of art that sells. Like you and your business. You’re not going to buy any businesses.”
It’s not the same, I do my job to make money. Painting is about a desire, passion, and feeding that side of things too. Business is just about making more money. Well, it is for me.
“This is why it’s called starving artists, because you’re in the habit of painting what you feel from the soul, not to make money.”
She shakes her head, as if to disagree.
“A girl’s got to eat. You can’t be making something and not profit from it at all. Sure, it’s not the only reason to paint, but it’s like revealing your soul to someone and no one liking you. No one thinking that your soul is worth anything,” she says as she paces the bedroom. I’m trying to concentrate and focus on what she’s talking about, but it’s hard when she’s naked underneath the robe and it isn’t tied up.
“Okay, so I don’t know much about the art world, but I thought it was more about expressing your creative side than others seeing your vision and wanting that in their homes, offices, etcetera.”
I break it down into a language that I can understand. Products and commodities. Buying and selling.
“What if you have no vision?”
How does one have no vision?
My heart beats a slow and steady rhythm in my chest as I sit up and try to comprehend where this conversation is going. And then it hits me as she sits on the bed.
“Belén?”
She nods her head. God, don’t you just love siblings!
“Well, maybe in this instance she’s right. Maybe being able to paint isn’t enough if no one likes it. “
