If it had been anyone but Alex, I would be embarrassed by the way I behaved last night. I threw myself at him. I allowed him to keep my mind from focusing on my problems by bringing pleasure to every part of my body. And he never once complained about how selfish I was being. Taking everything he was willing to give me. I roll over in bed and study his face as he sleeps. The blankets are rising and falling with his breaths. Even though I don’t have a job to get up for, I slip out of bed, pull on a robe, and tiptoe downstairs to make coffee for us. He admitted he loved the taste of the hazelnut coffee on me, and the memory of the way he proved that brings a smile to my face.

After hitting “brew,” I go out into the living room to turn on the news and check the weather. I do it out of force of habit. It’s how I’ve started my days for the past four years, and I’m not ready to break that routine yet. I find it comforting, like my life isn’t completely in shambles. The news station seems to be stuck on an endless loop of commercials, and getting impatient, I reach for my laptop. I have a notification of a sale from my website.

I click on it, thinking it must be a mistake since Eliza hasn’t even written the story featuring my work or my site yet. No one knows I even have a website. My page view counter shows that several people have viewed the site since Elana showed it to me. I’m surprised but happy to see that. I click on the message notification and see the order that was placed last night. A Mr. John Harris of Easton, Pennsylvania purchased “Through Your Eyes.”

My heart races, and I let out a scream I think I’ve been holding back for weeks. I’m still screaming when Alex races down the stairs, looking ready to take out an intruder in nothing but his boxers.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I sold a painting!” I say, pointing to the laptop on the table.

“I thought someone broke in here.” He places his hand on his chest.

“You have to see this. Elana’s site worked. People have already visited it. Not a lot of people, but that’s okay. I haven’t even advertised it anywhere yet. And I have my first sale. It’s your picture, Alex. Someone actually paid that ridiculous fifteen hundred dollar price tag for it. Can you believe that?” My heart is still pounding when he sits down beside me and reads the laptop screen.

“Whitney, this is fantastic.” He wraps his arms around me. “I told you people would buy your art. And now you can keep the space on Main Street. You can open your school.”

I stand up and start pacing the room. “I can. I can’t believe this is happening. I can buy more easels and paint, and I can see if the school will let me put up flyers there since the art program is being cut.” My thoughts are racing through my mind at an insane pace. “There’s so much to do, and I can’t wait to do it all.”

Alex stands up and hugs me to him. “I’m happy to help with any or all of it if you’d like.”

Now that he’s offering help instead of taking over, I’m happy to accept. “I’d love that. Thank you.”

“Hold on,” he says, putting one finger in the air, indicating I should stay here. He disappears inside the kitchen and returns a few moments later with coffee. “I know it’s not champagne, but it is seven o’clock in the morning.”

“It’s perfect,” I say, taking a mug and drinking some of the hazelnut coffee.

He does the same, and then he presses his lips to mine. “What do we do first?” he asks.

I’m so excited I can barely contain myself. “You have to go to work, but I’m going to the space, and I’m going to start painting the walls.”

He looks at the clock on the cable box. “Ugh, I do have to go to work. Can I meet you on my lunch break?”

“You know where I’ll be,” I say.

He finishes his coffee in two big gulps before taking my face in his free hand and kissing me hard. “I’m so proud of you, Whitney.”

“Thank you, Alex. I wouldn’t have done any of this if it weren’t for you.” I clamp my lips shut before the next thought in my head comes spilling out of my mouth too soon. We’re in a good place now, and I’m not going to ruin it by saying those three words that pack quite a punch.

“I’ll see you there at noon,” he says, kissing me again before rushing upstairs to get dressed.

* * *

“What color are you painting the walls?” Elana asks as I open the can.

“It’s called prism. It looks different colors depending on how you look at it. It’s not at all what I had in mind, but when I saw it, I knew it was the one.”

“I wish I wasn’t stuck at school today. I’d help you get the place ready.”

“You’ve done enough. It was the website you created that made this possible. Well, you and Alex for pushing me,” I say, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder as I pour the paint into the pan.

“So all is forgiven where he’s concerned?”

“Absolutely. I think we’re on the same page again.”

“Which means you had sex last night,” she says.

“That’s not what I meant, but if you must know, yes, we did.” I blush just thinking about it.

“Okay, well, I can swing by at three o’clock to help.”

“Sounds great. Alex will be here at noon. Between the three of us, this place will be ready to open next week.” My hand shakes with excitement. “I can’t believe this is happening. I thought my world was ending when I lost my job, but now...”

“You have the perfect man and the perfect job.” Elana sighs. “It’s good to be you, kid. Hey, that was the bell. I’ve got to run.”

“See you later,” I say before hanging up.

I spend all morning painting the walls. When I step back and look at them, they do look like they’re different colors. The light hitting the right wall makes it look gray, while the back wall looks blue, and the left wall looks green. It’s like an optical illusion. I smile as I study it.

The door opens behind me, and Mr. Ambrosi walks in. “Painting already, I see.”

“Yes. I’m hoping to open for business next week.”

“I’m happy to hear it.” He looks happy to receive a check, so I walk over to my purse on the floor by the paint can and retrieve the check for him.

“Here you go. That’s next month’s rent.”

“Thank you,” he says with a smile. “I hope it all works out the way you imagine. I’d love to see someone break the curse of this location.”

“What curse?” I ask with a small, nervous laugh.

“The location is great, right in the middle of a busy street, but for some reason, every business that has set up here has gone under in a matter of a few months.”

He’s right. I can’t remember anything ever staying in this location for long. I can’t let the same thing happen to me. “Well, I’m hoping to change that, Mr. Ambrogi.” This city needs art, and I’m going to be the woman to provide it.

“Best of luck to you, Ms. Stillwater.” He turns and walks out, leaving me to clean up my paints.

Alex arrives with lunch from Amor Amici’s about fifteen minutes later. “Sorry I’m late, but I made a stop.”

“Yum,” I say, walking over and taking the bag from him.

He doesn’t let go. “That’s it? Yum? No kiss for me?”

I smile and press my lips to his, letting them linger.

“Yum,” he says.

I laugh as I take the bag over to the center of the room. “So, what do you think of the color?”

“Don’t you mean colors?” he asks, looking around.

“Nope. It’s the same color. The light is just making it appear in different shades. I couldn’t imagine anything better for an art school.” I sit down on the floor, and Alex sits across from me as I remove the containers and plastic cutlery from the bag.

“I hope you like penne vodka,” he says. “It’s today’s lunch special, and it sounded good.”

“I love it. Thank you.” I lean over the food containers and kiss him again. He seems reluctant to pull away. “Everything okay?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m just disappointed I won’t get to help you paint. You did a great job, though.” He opens his container and starts eating.

“I’m planning to go purchase the easels and supplies this afternoon. Then I need to print some flyers to put up for my grand opening on Monday.”

“Monday?” He chokes on his pasta.

I hand him a bottle of water from the little cooler I brought with me. “Here.”

He uncaps it and takes a sip. “Sorry. I’m just surprised you’re planning to open so soon.”

“Why not? I mean, the site worked quickly. I’m taking it as a sign that I need to keep pushing forward.” I fork some pasta into my mouth.

“Have you gotten any other sales from the site?” he asks before taking another bite.

“I haven’t checked. I’ve been busy all morning.” I take my phone from my back pocket and pull up my site. No new sale notifications. “No, not since last night.”

“I wouldn’t let that bother you. It’s still very soon.”

“Yeah,” I say, but something about the worry in his voice makes me feel uneasy. Did I jump the gun paying the next month’s rent on this place? I’ve only sold one painting on the site, and none of the others are priced anywhere near that high. I’d have to sell several more to equal that one sale.

I look around at the space. Maybe it is cursed. Or maybe it attracts people like me with big dreams they can’t really pull off.