Chapter 19

“Keeks, I’m going to need you to chill.” Quinn raised one brow, watching his girlfriend pace back and forth across his studio. The owner of the gallery was coming to see the piece he was hoping would be included in the upcoming show.

A few days before, Quinn would never have even considered letting anyone besides Kiera see his studio. Maybe it was her motivation and unstoppable faith in him, but suddenly, he was excited. This might be a whole new career path for him, a chance to take his favorite hobby and make it more.

He’d never thought his work was good enough for that, and he still didn’t know, but he’d certainly find out today.

“Chill? I have no chill. How are you chill right now?” Her voice was high-pitched and squeaky as she put air quotes around the word “chill” every time she said it. “He’s going to be here any minute!”

“And he’s probably going to think it’s really fucking weird that there’s a crazy lady running circles around the room when he walks in.” He smirked, wondering why she seemed more nervous than he felt.

She came to an abrupt stop, narrowing her eyes at him. “Fine, you win.” With a loud huff, she sat down on the stool next to him and crossed her legs. “Do you think he’ll like your piece? What if he doesn’t want to include it in the gallery show? What if he likes it, but picks someone else?”

“Jesus Christ, Kiera.” Quinn wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. “You’re freaking me out. Shouldn’t I be the nervous one here?”

“Why aren’t you nervous?” she asked. “This is a big deal!”

“Well, I wasn’t until you showed up.” He laughed and tried to shake the unease and anxieties from his body. “Whatever happens, happens. I’m just trying to go with it.”

“Okay,” she agreed, nibbling the edge of her thumb. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll ‘chill.’ ”

“Hello?” A tall man with sleek silver hair and an impeccable suit stepped through the side door of the studio that Quinn had left open.

“Hi, there!” Kiera jumped up from her seat and rushed over to him.

Quinn moved a bit slower, his cane in one hand. “Good afternoon.”

“You must be Mr. Druthers,” Kiera said, extending her hand. “I’m Kiera Finley—we spoke on the phone.”

“Great to put a face to the voice, Ms. Finley,” he replied, shaking her hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you, but please, call me Mark.”

“Of course! And you can definitely call me Kiera,” she said, grabbing Quinn’s arm and pulling him forward. “This is the artist—Quinn Kavanagh.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mark,” Quinn said, shaking his hand next.

“You as well, Quinn. I’ve heard amazing things about your art from this young lady.” The gallery owner stepped farther into the studio, looking around the room. “And I must say, she wasn’t lying.”

“Thank you,” Quinn replied.

Mark came to a stop in front of Quinn’s new piece.

It was tall, at almost six feet, and made entirely from pieces of old motorcycles and bikes, along with hundreds of feet of wire. Matte black paint had been added to the underside, but the outside was a dull silver color. The basic form was that of a dancer being swept away by the wind. Intricately laid wires and metal had been welded, formed, shaped, and cut to create a figure that was soft and wispy, yet strong and unmoving at the same time.

At least, that’s what Quinn was hoping the man would see.

Mark glanced up at him then pointed to the dancer. “Is this the piece you were thinking about for the gallery?”

Quinn nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“It’s my absolute favorite,” Kiera added, both of her hands on Quinn’s forearm as she stood by his side. She squeezed tightly as they watched the man circle the piece slowly, surveying it from every angle.

“Wow,” he remarked, glancing around at the other works Quinn had in his studio—some still unfinished. “You mainly sculpt the female form, I see. With…are these parts of motorcycles?”

“That’s correct.” Quinn swallowed his nerves, lifting his chin taller. “I add in other elements as well, like wire and paint, but for the most part, I use scrapped motorcycles and bikes.”

Mark nodded, circling the dancer one more time before walking back to Quinn. He stretched out his hand again, and Quinn took it. “I’d be delighted to add your dancer to the exhibit. Your work is unbelievable and you should be very proud. You’ve got a great career in front of you.”

Quinn’s face lit up, smiling as he shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

“The exhibit is the last weekend in November, and my assistant will send you everything you need. We’ll get you a truck to transport it to Manhattan, as well,” Mark explained. He flashed them both a winning smile. “I’ll see you in one month.”

“That would be amazing,” Quinn replied, trying to keep the shock from his expression. “Thank you so much. I’m honored.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dru— Mark,” Kiera added as the man shook her hand. She was literally bouncing with excitement at the news.

“Thanks for letting me see your studio. Depending on how the exhibit goes, I have a feeling we’ll be doing a lot of work together.” With that, the gallery owner left.

Quinn’s mind was reeling, and he knew it was all because of Kiera. “Babe, I’m going to be in an art gallery exhibit.”

“Hell yeah, you are,” Kiera replied, clapping her hands excitedly. “Congratulations, Q!”

Of the three times he’d heard her curse, right now was by far his favorite. He couldn’t believe a true professional not only wanted to include his work, but predicted he could make this a career.

Being a manager and agent at Legends had always been his professional aspiration, and he’d never really thought about trying for anything else. Yet he didn’t feel any sort of excitement or passion about returning to it soon.

But in the studio?

He belonged there. He felt it in his very soul. If he could make a career out of his hobby…why the hell not? He’d been afraid to even consider it, seeing every little imperfection in his work as huge flaws. Through Kiera’s eyes, and today, Mark Druthers’s, he realized how hard he’d been on himself.

He did have talent. He was an artist, and he wondered if it was time to explore where that could take him, even if it meant going outside of Woodlawn, Legends, or his current career.

Maybe it was time to branch out from the Kavanagh brand.

Kiera ran over to the studio door, closing and locking it. She turned back to look at him, a huge smile on her face and excitement in her eyes.

Quinn furrowed his brow. “What are you doing?”

“Celebrating with my boyfriend.” Kiera winked, sauntering back to him and wrapping her arms around his neck, her mouth on his faster than he could react.

He laughed against her lips, catching his balance as he steadied himself and slid an arm around her waist. “This is all thanks to you, you know.”

“Well, then thank me,” she said, grabbing at the hem of his shirt. “Thank me…a lot.”