Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“When your art sells big. Not if.”
“Don’t even think about buying my pieces out of pity, Vanderbilt.”
He laughed. “What made you think I was thinking that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you also offered to pay my tuition.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t thinking I could buy your art.”
“Oh…” Well, now I felt dumb.
“I was thinking I could probably buy you a gallery of your own.”
My mouth fell open. “Please don’t do that. And don’t ever buy my art, either. I’d never know if it was any good if someone I knew bought it.”
“Trust me. You’re good. I get it, though. I won’t buy it if that upsets you.”
I decided to go out on a limb. “Well, now that you’ve promised you won’t buy my art, I can invite you to the Institute’s art show. Don’t feel obligated. But I figured I’d mention it, since I don’t have any family here or anyone else to ask.” I chewed my bottom lip.
“When is it?”
“Thursday night.”
He pulled up the calendar on his phone. “I’ll be there. Thank you for telling me.”
“I don’t want you going out of pity, though. Go only if you want to.”
He looked into my eyes. “I promise you. I want to go.”
“Okay.”
“What are you showing?” he asked.
“The monkeys. And also a flower series you haven’t seen.”
He smiled. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
CHAPTER 12
* * *
The exhibition hall for the art show was starting to empty. Most of the people who remained were either staff or students. And me? I was crushed.
“Why do you keep looking at the door?” Janelle asked.
Trying to keep my eyes from welling up, I played dumb. “Am I?”
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t realize it.”
There were only a few minutes left of the show, and Dorian hadn’t come. I didn’t realize how much him being here mattered until he apparently stood me up. Almost every person here had someone who’d come to cheer them on—except for me. It cast a spotlight on something I’d tried to bury: the painful fact that I was essentially alone in this world. I’d made it seem like it didn’t matter whether or not he came, yet I still couldn’t help feeling let down. In my head, Dorian was my person, someone I could count on, even if things weren’t romantic between us. But that was just another delusion.
“Hey, Primrose.”
I turned to find Brandon Wright standing next to me. Brandon was a fellow artist who had graduated from the Institute several years back. He now served as a student advisor and mentor. I knew he had done really well in the industry, having sold several paintings, some to celebrity clients.
“Hi.” I managed a smile.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you earlier. Every time I looked over, someone was talking your ear off. But I didn’t want to leave without congratulating you on the show. Your pieces are exquisite.”
“Thank you,” I said, forcing myself to perk up. “That means a lot coming from you.”
“You should look happier than you do this evening,” he told me.
“Oh…” I shook my head, ready to deny it.
“This business—it’s a marathon, not a sprint, you know? I know how hard it is to stay the course when some days it seems like the only person you’re creating for is yourself. There’s little reward for most people, but I believe those who are talented will find success. So even if your paintings didn’t sell tonight, just know that the longer you stay the course, the better things will get.”
“Like you…” I nodded. “You’re doing so great now.”
He shrugged. “I’m hardly successful, but I’m getting there.”
Brandon had long brown hair past his shoulders and a beard. He was handsome and sort of resembled Johnny Depp’s character from Pirates of the Caribbean.
“I saw your exhibit on the faces of homelessness at the gallery in downtown L.A.,” I told him. “The people you created look so realistic. And the message was obviously profound.”
“When did you go?”
“When it first opened. I think on the second day.”
“You should’ve let me know. I would have met you there.” He paused. “Actually…are you busy tomorrow night? I’d love to hang out, talk more, if you’re around.”
Caught off guard, I waited before responding, unsure whether he was asking me out. But I shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to connect with him in any case.
“I had plans to go out with a friend to Juno Bar,” I finally answered.
“A guy friend or…?”
So he was asking me out.
“A female friend. You know her. Janelle Ainsley.” I looked around. “She’s still here somewhere.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “Would you want some company, then?”
I hesitated a moment because I wasn’t a hundred-percent sure I wanted to go there with Brandon. But ultimately, I had no reason to say no.
“That’d be great, yeah,” I said.
“Perfect.” He smiled. “I’d love to get to know you better.”
“That would be nice.”