Page 68 of Caper Crush
“I’d love you to visit my studio,” I say. “But fair warning—it’s the living room of my apartment on the Upper West Side.”
“Well, at least that will be easy to get to,” she says.
We exchange cards.
Max then takes me to meet his friend who is interested in art, and I chat briefly with her. We exchange cards, and then I excuse myself because I’m due at the venue for our band’s show later tonight.
Max says, “Maybe we’ll come check out your gig after this party.”
“You should,” I say. “Rex wrote some new songs.”
As I walk out of the room, a woman entering stops short and says, “You.”
I glance at her and halt. Kimberly.
“I thought I recognized you, but I couldn’t place you,” she says. “Weeping Willow. Oh, sorry.”
“It’s okay. I guess you’re catering my mom’s party.” And here I thought she’d recognize me from Tony’s parties.
She nods. “I’m sorry. Now I understand why your boyfriend was concerned about discretion. I’d be happy to cater for you guys.”
“It did come off a bit strangely,” I say. “But we already hired Star Catering. Not that he’s my boyfriend.”
“Well, keep me in mind.”
As I grab my coat from the coatrack, my mom joins me. She hands me a binder.
“I found these old clippings. Your father’s early positive reviews. He also thought he’d be a success. It’s not that easy,” she says. “A friend of mine mentioned that her granddaughter’s school is looking for an art teacher. That would give you summers off, and you could paint then.”
“Mom, I know you think I can’t succeed at being an artist, but I can.”
“Very few succeed,” my mom says. “I watched your father try so hard and fail. And I don’t want to see that happen to you too.”
“I’m different from Dad. I’m a lot more driven, and I’m tougher.”
“Tougher? Miranda, you cry all the time.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not tough. I’m not afraid to share my emotions. Maybe that’s a sign of bravery.”
“I guess.” She sounds dubious. “But check out this school art teacher job.”
Normally, I humor my mom. But I’m fed up with her doubt. “Mom, I’m going to succeed at being an artist, but I have to do it full time. It’s not a hobby. I’m not going to check out the teacher job or get some degree in IT. I’m going to find my painting and participate in the Vertex Art Exhibit.” I give her back the binder and put on my coat.
My mom’s eyes widen, but she’s too schooled as a politician’s wife to show any other emotion. “I do want you to find your painting.”
“I appreciate your support.” I close the door behind me.
Chapter fifteen
Iwon’tseeWilliamuntil Monday, and that feels like forever even though it’s Saturday morning. Plus, I’m on edge waiting to see if Edmund reacts to my new show bait. Interviewing the catering staff at the Monday party is less urgent now that I think Vinnie took the paintings out, but we still need to talk to them. We’ve lost a week now. Only four weeks left until the Vertex Art Exhibit. I text William.
Me:Edmund said his olive oil farms are doing well. I think he is lying.
William:I’ll look into it. Did you tell him you had a new show?
Me:Yes.
I never have any patience when I’m interested in someone. I should stay clear, but maybe close contact will decrease my attraction. I used to think William was boring and reserved, so I just need to see more of that and my interest is sure to wane. He must have some annoying habits.
