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Love Next Door: A Single Dad Romance by Tia Siren (111)

Chapter 33

Madison

 

 

I had been standing here, staring at this canvas for almost a week now. The trash can was full of thrown out ideas. I knew none of them were the one because it just didn’t move me to push my brush across the white backdrop. When I had an idea, one that ended up a painting, it was like the spirit was moving me, putting the paint in exactly the right places. But, in order to do that, I have to have some kind of guidance, some kind of epic idea that brought everything together in a way that I could see in my mind before I stepped up to the plate.

My mind was blank, unable to even start to think outside of the box. I didn’t need some mundane painting that had been done 150 times over. I needed something that when you walked through the front doors of the gallery, you were taken back by its grandeur, beauty, and message. Every art columnist in the city attended these showings, and they always used the front piece as their column photo. I had read good reviews, and I had read the bad ones, and if you paid close enough attention, the bad ones never really surfaced again. That was the power of the art critique community. Luckily, they had a good relationship with Sarah, so they were already coming in, poised for an amazing show. I just needed to provide that show, and the entry piece was extremely vital to the whole thing.

When I first started having these issues, I thought it was because of Zach. I thought it was because I was heartbroken and I couldn’t get my mind off of him. I tried to use that feeling to invoke my creativity, but it never came. Now, that heartbreak was gone, but I was still standing here, unable to move forward.

Then, I thought it might have something to do with Lee, but I hadn’t had a nightmare since Zach was back, and except for the few times I had noticed the bruise on my face, the whole incident had faded from my memory. There was something there, lurking in the background that was keeping me from really pushing forward and becoming the artist I wanted to be. I tossed my brush to the side, frustrated, and grabbed my coffee cup, walking by the other artists’ cubbies as I made my way to the back. They had some of the most beautiful art hanging to dry in their areas. The colors speckling the place were dazzling, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous at their ability to come in overnight and produce something of that magnitude. Maybe it was because I was so uptight, always thinking with my brain.

My art professor never actually thought I would make it, and not because I didn’t have the talent. That, he said I had plenty of. It was because he said I wouldn’t allow my spirit to take hold, and that alone hindered my creativity. I didn’t understand what he meant by spirit so he explained. That moment when you were finished with a painting, and it was like you were seeing it for the first time. You stepped back and realized the whole process was a haze because you just had let go and let it flow. That was the spirit. Well, wherever my spirit had gone on vacation, I needed him to get his ass back here and help me. The clock was ticking down, and I didn’t know how I was going to magically produce something like this. Maybe this was why I heard so many retired artists talking about how being a professional took the love out of it.

In my haze of thought, I didn’t hear anyone come into the room. I jolted as a hand slipped over my arm, and I looked over at Sarah smiling at me. I shook my head and rubbed my face with my hands.

“Hey,” I said, realizing she was there.

“Hey, I wanted to go over a few things for your show. I need a headshot so before you leave, let me take a photo of you. Also, make sure that you look fabulous for the event. If you need clothes, let me know. I’ll take care of it this time since it’s your first show. And lastly, where are we on the front piece?”

“I won’t lie,” I said, watching her stare over at the blank canvas. “I am struggling.”

“I see this,” she said, taking off her glasses and looking at me. “I need you to have this piece done by tomorrow. If the piece isn’t done by tomorrow, we will have to let you go. I can’t have an unfinished show.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I promise I’ll have a piece for you tomorrow.”

“I understand you’ve been through a lot lately,” she said, softening her tone. “Maybe you can try taking it home. Or doing a miniature version and transferring it over. When I had my first show, many years ago, I was so nervous. I had all the pieces done, and then two days before, when they were being delivered, one, my main piece, was dropped into a puddle.”

“Oh, no,” I replied. “What did you do?”

“Freaked out.” She laughed. “Cried, yelled, and every other emotion possible. Then I took a deep breath and hung the painting as is. Everyone thought it was so modern chic. It sold for so much money.”

She was laughing so hard. I couldn’t help but start laughing along with her. For several minutes, we stood there, just letting all the stress of the day blow through us. The laughter turned to bellowing, and I grabbed my stomach, trying to catch my breath. When the laughter had died down, and I wiped the tears from my eyes, I looked up at Sarah.

“Honestly,” she said, rubbing my shoulder. “You can do this. I have every faith in you. Go home, relax, and find what motivates you. What really gets you going, and you will find this painting. I promise. And if all else fails, paint something weird. These idiots love weird.”

“Okay,” I said, chuckling. Right at that moment, Zach texted me, letting me know he was outside. I grabbed my bag and turned my lights out, making my way out the door. I had very little time left, and I needed to get my mind straight. I looked back at the canvas, making it a goal to be back soon with an amazing idea and a whole new level of dedication.

When I walked outside, Zach was standing with the door to the limo open, bowing to me and smiling. I skipped forward, letting the stress leave me for just a few moments, and jumped into his arms. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed, letting out a deep breath. He was always so careful and gentle with me, something I really loved about him. I climbed in the car and waited for him to slide in next to me. The feeling of his warm body next to me was so comforting, and it took everything in me not to crawl into his lap and fall asleep, letting my stresses and problems just melt into his chest. He looked over at me and grinned, obviously happy to see me.

“Dinner and then stay with me at my place, again?”

“That sounds perfect,” I said, smiling.

“Excellent! Onward.” He pointed forward as the limo took off through Manhattan.

I wasn’t really sure where we were going, but it didn’t really matter to me as long as I was with him. I was pretty excited, though, when we pulled through the art district, watching as we passed the artisans in the street, creating amazing works of art in their concrete studios. I shook my head, wondering how they focused in a place like that when I couldn’t even focus in a dedicated art studio. We turned left down the block and pulled up in front of a very trendy restaurant. The entire front was made of black mirrored tiles, and the name, Left View, glowed brightly in red over the doors. The chauffeur opened the door, and Zach slid out first, reaching down and helping me out of the car. I looked down at my clothes and lifted my eyebrow, not sure I was dressed appropriately for this restaurant.

“Trust me, you’re fine,” he said, smiling. “You look amazing.”

“Okay,” I said in a questionable tone. “If you say so.”

We entered, and I realized why he said I was fine. There were all types of people in the restaurant, from the old to the young, from the guy with the mohawk in the corner to the business woman with her two kids on her cell phone in the other corner. The hostess smiled kindly at us and walked us to a black mirrored table to the left. I sat down and listened as Zach ordered a bottle of wine and an appetizer. Perusing the menu, I realized it was a sushi restaurant, and instantly, I was stoked. Sushi was one of my favorite things in the world.

“Do you like sushi?” he asked.

“Uh, of course! I am in love with this menu.” I looked it over.

“Good.” He laughed. “Order whatever you want.”

We filled the table with different kinds of sushi and put our napkins in our laps, excited to feast on dinner and just relax with one another. Instantly, we started talking, beginning with his day and how he got so much done, now that he wasn’t feeling the pangs of heartbreak. I loved hearing about his life away from me and how different we lived. However, at the end of the day, as our paths crossed, we couldn’t feel more at home in each other’s arms.

When we were done with dinner, we headed back to his apartment and opened up another bottle of wine out on the porch, overlooking the city. I sat back and breathed in the cool air, sipping my wine and trying not to think about the painting that needed to be done. Zach stood and leaned over the edge, looking down at the city below. He stretched his arms high over his head and took in a deep breath, looking back up at the stars overhead. I felt like I was at home, but the thought of that painting looming over my head began to seep back into my conscious, and I looked down at my glass of wine, swirling it around in the glass.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, walking over and sitting down in the chair next to me.

“That painting,” I sighed. “If it’s not done by tomorrow, then they may end up relieving me of my contract. I’ve been through so much. I just can’t sit back and let this happen, but I don’t know what to do. I can’t focus, and it’s not like there’s really anything going through my mind. I just can’t seem to get myself to find my creativity. It’s like it disappeared that night with Lee, and I don’t know how to get it back.”

Zach sat there for a few minutes, obviously lost deep in thought about my dilemma. He sat back in the chair and stretched again. This time, his eyes stayed locked with mine. Butterflies fluttered through my stomach, and I didn’t know if it was the two bottles of wine or Zach’s eyes staring down at me. He was so damn handsome, but it was not what I needed to be focused on at that moment. He took in a deep breath and looked back at me, leaning forward and kissing my cheek. He lifted his head to my ear and whispered.

“I can fix that.”

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