Page 304 of His Virgin Romance Series

“Yeah.”

“You just got busted for dealing.”

“But I didn’t get jail time. No one’s watching me.”

“That’s what you say… how do I know you’re not a narc?”

“Come on,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Weren’t you happy with my product before?”

There was another pause. “I have missed the shit you were pushing… it was top quality.”

“See?” I replied. “My supplier is well respected in the community.”

“What community?” Larry asked.

I rolled my eyes. “The pothead community.”

Larry laughed. “Dope… okay, I gotcha,” he said. “How about we meet at our old spot and have a pow-wow?”

“Sure,” I said. “Oh, and one more thing… let your friends know that I’m in business again. But trusted people only, please… I don’t need the cops on my tail again.”

“Got it, man.”

I hung up and breathed a sigh of relief. If I kept this up, then I would have a couple of thousand in my pocket by the end of the week. I could make rent, save some of it, and have enough left over to take Gabby out for a nice meal. I could always cover it up as a thank you for helping me with my portfolio.

Feeling very satisfied with myself, I grabbed my portfolio and headed into the city to meet with Gordon Chadwick. He was the owner of White Lines Gallery. It was a relatively small space and a relatively unknown gallery, but I needed to start somewhere. He was willing to meet me, and that was all that mattered.

When I got to the gallery, I was greeted by a tall, skinny woman with pointed features and a face that looked painted on. She was wearing an impeccable white suit, and I knew she was part of the look that Gordon Chadwick wanted to emulate. I was shown to his office at the back of the gallery, and I had to wait almost half an hour before he let me in.

Gordon Chadwick turned out to be a short, balding man with a burgeoning potbelly. He had seedy blue eyes and a false smile that was far too shrewd.

“Mr. Danvers,” he greeted, as he extended his hand out towards me. “Welcome.”

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me, Mr. Chadwick,” I said, sitting down.

“I’m always interested in cultivating new talent,” he said. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of time to give you. This will have to be fast… I’m afraid that puts a lot of pressure on you to make an impression.”

I raised my eyebrows, realizing that he wasn’t going to help me at all. I cleared my throat, projected an aura of confidence, and pushed the large portfolio folder in my hands towards him.

“Well, in that case,” I said. “I’ll let my work speak for itself.”

Gordon seemed impressed with that move. I knew he wasn’t the type of guy who would fall for a lot of talk. I needed to show him what I could do. He zoomed through my portfolio, giving each picture of my work perhaps three seconds of attention each. I felt my optimism drop. What if he was speeding through them because he didn’t like what he was seeing?

It had taken me a long time to get this interview with him in the first place. Persistence was the only thing that had helped me here. If he turned me down, then I was back to square one with nothing to show for all my hard work.

“Interesting,” Gordon said, closing the portfolio and pushing it back towards me.

“Interesting?” I repeated, unsure what that meant.

“You play in many different mediums?”

“I don’t like to limit myself,” I said, reminding myself to stay confident even if I didn’t feel it.

“Your subject matter is all over the place too… but it’s very compelling.”

“That was my goal.”

Gordon rested his face on his hand for a moment while he studied me carefully. “Have you been exhibited anywhere else?”

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