Page 382 of His Virgin Romance Series

“Did you check out the prices on these pieces?” Zack asked.

I glanced at the tiny little price stickers next to each piece and raised my eyebrows in shock. “Fucking hell.”

“Good thing you dressed up tonight.”

“I’m going to go talk to Gordon,” I said.

I went to the back to his office and found him sitting proudly behind his desk. He was dressed head to toe in a white suit, and he looked to me like a caricature of a mafia boss.

“There you are,” Gordon said before I had a chance to open my mouth. “And you dressed up. Good boy. I’ve invited quite a few rich and important people in the art community so be sure to be as charming as you can. Oh… and try and slip in the fact that you did jail time.”

“What?”

“It’ll make your work more interesting… and it lends itself to the whole tortured artist bit.”

I rolled my eyes. “I never actually did jail time.”

“I’m not telling you to be honest; I’m telling you to sell yourself… and in turn your paintings.”

“Speaking of my paintings,” I said. “Don’t you think you’ve marked them a little high?”

“Uh… no,” Gordon replied shortly.

“While I’m flattered that you think they might actually sell for that amount… I mean, come on, Gordon… five thousand dollars for the ‘Heroes?’”

“If I were to price each painting at fifty dollars, do you think that these fancy art collectors would look twice at it?” Gordon asked. “They need to believe that these paintings are important, that they’re worth something, and the best way to make sure of that is to price high. You should be thrilled; at those prices even after I take my twenty percent; you’ll be left with a more than decent amount.”

“If I manage to sell even one tonight,” I said huffily. “Which I doubt.”

“You never know.” Gordon shrugged. “The art world is a gamble.”

“That’s it?” I asked as Gordon headed out into his gallery.

“Yep… now stop following me and go and mingle. People have started to arrive.”

It took another hour before the gallery could be considered full, but it gave me some time to get my bearings and put my game face on. I did just like Zack had advised and put Gabby out of my mind, which was not easy to do considering her painting was always there in my peripheral vision, reminding me of what I had lost to get here.

As it turned out, I had something to say about the art world, and I actually found it easy to talk to the people who stopped by to view my work. I was staring at my paintings, wondering if I would even manage to sell one tonight when there was a light tap on my shoulder. Instantly, I thought ‘Gabby,’ and I whirled around hoping to see her.

I froze in place when I saw who it really was.

“Mom,” I said, in amazement. “Dad.”

“Hello, son,” Mom said.

“You came?”

“You sent us an invitation,” Dad replied brusquely. “Or was that a mistake on your part?”

“Of course not,” I said quickly. “I just… I’m surprised that you actually came.”

I had sent the invitation almost a week ago, feeling fairly confident that they would choose not to come. But I had felt that I needed to do it as a gesture of goodwill. Dad had bailed me out after all, and it was the least I could do to say thank you, especially since I didn’t think I was going to be able to pay him back anytime soon.

“We wanted to see what you gave up your old life for,” Dad said, staring at my work.

“Well… what do you think?” I asked.

Mom smiled as she looked at the picture of Gabby. “She was right,” Mom said softly. “You are a talented artist.”

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