Chapter 20
Zach
I sat at the table, eating my eggs and staring down at my phone. I hadn’t heard from Madison since I dropped her off on Thursday. I was exhausted from my day, and I just wanted to get home and go to bed. I knew she wouldn’t want to come all the way to Manhattan, so I stopped by to say hi and then left. I had no idea what I had done, but going from constant texts every day to absolutely nothing was definitely not a good sign.
Her boss’s show was tonight, and I had told her I would be there. But now that I hadn’t heard from her, I didn’t know if I should go or not. I thought about calling Charlotte and seeing if I could weasel some info out of her, but if she really was ignoring me, I didn’t want to be that creepy guy. Part of me figured that she was just really busy with an asshole boss that was forcing her to kill herself for this show. However, the other part of me was worried that having sex the other night had spooked her, and she was pushing me out of her life.
I stood up from the table, not having much appetite, and walked out onto the porch. I was right back where I was a week ago, completely unable to get Madison off my mind. This time, though, it wasn’t a question of how I felt about her. It was a question of how she felt about me. I had never been in a situation where I was chasing a girl and she was running in the opposite direction. I didn’t get emotionally attached for this exact reason, but here I was anyway, standing on the porch, miserable, not being able to figure out what it was that I did to make Madison disappear like this.
I needed answers, and I was sure as hell going to fulfill my promises. I was going to go to the event tonight, and even if she blew me off, I would find out what happened. If I was going to get dumped, or whatever this was, I wasn’t going to sit around and wonder with a broken heart. Madison had become too important in my life for me to just give up on whatever it was that we had going on. At first, I fought it, but now, knowing how my brain won’t let me release her or forget about her, I was letting myself feel whatever my brain and heart wanted me to feel.
I went back inside and finished my breakfast, feeling like a good workout session would help me melt out the stress. I got dressed and rode down to the gym where I decided to work on weights for the afternoon. By the time I got home, I was sweaty and sore and ready to start preparing for the art show that night. I got dressed in one of the nicest suits that I owned, did my hair perfectly like usual, and made sure to muster up that charm that drew Madison to me in the first place.
When I arrived at the show, there were a ton of people milling around, looking at the less than impressive pieces hanging on the walls. I looked through the crowd, finding Madison standing by herself in the middle of the showroom. She looked up right away, her eyes widening as she saw me. A huge smile spread across her face, and I was immediately taken back by how excited she was to see me. She crossed the floor and threw her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. It felt so good to have her in my arms again, and I breathed her scent in deeply.
“What are you doing here?” She pulled back and looked at me excitedly.
“I told you I would be here.” I smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“It’s not my show,” she said, scuffing her shoes on the ground. “So, it really wasn’t a big deal.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head and taking her hand. “It’s your job so that alone makes it a big deal. You work so hard to make this perfect, and you get no credit for it. You deserve to have one fan of your work milling around with the rich people.”
“You are the rich people,” she whispered.
“I am? Why didn’t someone tell me.” I looked down at my jacket and over at the server carrying champagne. “Did you know I am rich?”
“Stop it.” She laughed, pulling me to the side.
“What are you doing after all of this?” I pushed a piece of hair out of her face and watched as her eyes darkened.
“Hopefully, going home with you,” she said, bumping her hip into me and winking.
Immediately, I could feel the excitement run through my chest and down into my pants. I didn’t know if I was more excited to spend time with her or spend naked time with her. Either way, it didn’t seem like she was upset with me at all. At that moment, I was really glad I decided to show up. If she had been having doubts, and I hadn’t come, that definitely would have cemented it for her.
The smile on her face when I walked into the gallery was worth every agonizing thought over the last couple of days, and I couldn’t wait to get her back to my place and relax. I looked around the room, admiring her handy work. By the looks of Lee’s artwork, she was handed a pile of shit and managed to create a pretty decent looking show from it.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing my arm. “I’ll take you on a tour.”
Arm in arm, we walked around the studio, stopping at each piece and having her explain exactly what Lee had scripted her to say about each one. By the description, you would think the painting was deep and full of meaning, but to me, it looked like he smeared a baloney sandwich across a canvas and called it a day. Normally, I wouldn’t critique an artist that way, but I knew how much of a douche bag Lee was, and I knew he wished he had the talent that people like Madison had, which was exactly why he wouldn’t let her have a show. He was intimidated by her.
“Your artwork is much better,” I whispered. “You could make a killing. I mean, these people are eating this shit up right now. If they can do that for a creepy attempt at finger painting, then they would love your stuff.
“I know,” she sighed. “But he won’t let me have my own show. And remember, I told you his rules. He is one hundred percent against an artist repping or selling their work at another artist’s show. He finds it to be, like, the pure cardinal sin.”
We perused past Lee, ignoring his demeaning glare. I really wanted to tell him how shitty of an artist he was, but I didn’t want to jeopardize Madison’s job or her safety for that matter. I didn’t trust this guy as far as I could throw him. Madison should be the one having a show right now, not some dried up hack of an artist, more interested in gathering money than actually understanding his craft. I looked at the labels underneath each of the paintings and wondered how he even understood enough to pick what medium he was working in.
I knew one thing. The one at the front should not say oil and pastels. It should say, “Medium: Bologna Sandwich.” I smiled to myself as we moved throughout the gallery, mostly just walking to keep ourselves from immediately locking lips. She would glance over at me from time to time, smiling or winking as we passed by the rest of the art collectors.
“How much is the bologna sandwich one?” I asked out of curiosity.
“Seven grand,” she whispered.
“What?! Seven Grand! Is he out of his mind? I puked better stuff last time I was at a bar.” I couldn’t help my explosion of thoughts. That was absolutely mad.
“Shh,” she said, smiling at those passing by, looking at me strangely.
“Sorry.” I laughed. “My mind is just blown. How could anyone justify paying that much money for that one painting?”
“I don’t know, but someone did.” She laughed. “An anonymous buyer bid on it before the show. We put the video up of the artist and works he commissioned on the web before the show starts to give the artist a better chance of selling work. It’s both a blessing and a curse.”
“I didn’t know you could do that,” I said, pulling a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.
“Yep,” she replied. “You just call in ahead of time. The only thing is, you have to offer more than the selling price, or they will take the onsite buyer first.”
“Ahh, gotcha,” I said. “So basically, the gallery is making a shit ton of money from all of this.
“Yep,” she said, forcing a smile.
“I am going to go use the little boy’s room,” I said, handing her my glass. “I’ll be right back.”
I walked to the back and found the bathroom stuffed in the corner by the long red drapes. After using the restroom, I walked back out, catching a glimmer of color out of the corner of my eye. I stopped and pulled the curtain back slightly, looking around to make sure no one was watching. Hiding back there were Madison’s two canvases from the trip to the Statue. I sat there thinking for a moment about what she said when it came to repping your own work at someone else’s show. Technically, it wouldn’t be her repping it. It would be me. I shrugged my shoulder and pulled the paintings out from behind the curtain, making sure her information was on the back. I looked around smiling, knowing she might not be happy, but I was giving her a chance.
I made my way back up to the front, joining Madison as she greeted guests. I glanced back in the corner as a middle-aged woman stopped in front of the painting and pulled the curtain back. Her face lit up at the site of Madison’s painting, and I chuckled to myself victoriously as she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of Madison’s information. She was apparently familiar with galleries, since she looked around and stuck the picture back where she found it. Hopefully, she would call Madison soon and give her a chance at really being able to show what she is made of.
The rest of the night went smoothly, and as she promised, Madison ended up back at my place. On the limo ride over, she looked out the window, lost in her own thoughts. She always seemed to get this way after putting together a show for another artist. I imagined it had to be tough, catering to everyone else while your own talent was ignored. Personally, I was trying to be supportive of Madison and be there for her through whatever was going on in her head. But in reality, I was just so damn glad to have her back at my side. There were questions I wanted to ask her, but as I looked across the car at her sexy legs crossed in front of her and her six-inch heels, I knew that questions could wait for another day. I scooted across and sat next to her, meeting her gaze and running my hand up her thigh. She was way too irresistible to miss out on.