Page 30 of Dirty Money
Slowly, Aullie swerved her way around another freestanding white wall and found herself back in her own exhibit. Her jaw dropped.
Every single one of her paintings, big and small, dark and bright, had a little red sticker next to it. Every painting had sold. Aullie’s befuddled mind tried to do the math, it was confusing because there were fourteen paintings that were each set to sell for different prices. Each one was over a hundred dollars, though, so Aullie was going to be walking out of there with over a thousand bucks.
The breath leapt from her chest. It would be the first time her bank account would have a comma in it for the first time in she didn’t even know how long. That would help with her rent and more than made up for the night of work she missed that night.
Most importantly though, she was making it as an artist!
Admittedly it was a small start but even the greats had to start somewhere, and she almost wanted to take it all out in cash and rub the bills in Eric’s piggy little face.
Aullie couldn’t stop staring at the little red dots. She was so distracted that she jumped a little when Gerald approached her with a friendly pat on the back of her arm.
“Jesus,” she said, putting a hand over her fluttering heart. “Sorry, you scared me.”
“Distracted by the money, the fortune, and the fame?” Gerald asked, coyly. His face beamed with pride and he really was genuinely happy to have seen Aullie do so incredibly well, especially in a show that he was able to get her into.
“I guess you could say that,” Aullie said, a prideful smile crept across her lips.
“You wanna know the crazy part?” Gerald asked, tone upbeat and excitable.
“There’s a crazy part?” Aullie replied.
“They were all bought by one guy. Some crazy rich collector. He paid above asking price on all of them, and insisted they offer you a permanent showcase in the gallery! The manager went totally nuts, he even paid all upfront in cash. I’ve met some eccentric collectors, but I’ve never seen anybody do that before.”
Aullie’s excitement bubble popped and her stomach sank to her knees. She would bet all the money she just made that she knew exactly who bought the paintings.
“It didn’t happen to be a tall-ish guy with blonde-ish hair, way overdressed in a fancy-ass tuxedo, did it?” Aullie asked, bitterly.
Gerald’s brows furrowed over his hipster frames. “Yeah, actually,” he said, sounding baffled. “How’d you know?”
“He’s a…”What was the right word? He wasn’t an ex, really. He definitely wasn’t a friend.“He’s a problem I’ve been having,” she settled on.
“Oh,” said Gerald, looking confused. “Well, either way, you got paid. And you’ve got a spot. So, you better ramp up that original work, get some more paintings in here, I think they were talking about giving you two full walls!”
All her passionate, artistic dreams were being fulfilled, and Aullie couldn’t be any more pissed. Her fists clenched at her sides, a scowl twisted her made-up face and her drunken haze disappeared as a surge of angry adrenaline cleared her mind.
“Is the guy still here?”
“Um, I don’t really know for sure,” Gerald replied. He said something else, but Aullie didn’t hear it and it didn’t matter.
Weston was staring right at her.
Not even twenty feet away, he stood there all overdressed; exuding confidence and power. A tumbler of scotch was in his hand, but his eyes were clear and he looked sober. He probably would’ve looked incredibly sexy if Aullie wasn’t so damn angry.
Weston smiled at her.
Aullie glared him down. He remained still as she stormed toward him, feeling as though flames were shooting from her ears.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded, probably a little too loud and angry for the quieter, classy event but in that moment, she couldn’t care less.
“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Aullie,” his smooth British voice purred, that infuriating smile still curling his lips. Aullie had never wanted to smack someone so bad in her life.
“Why would you buy all my paintings? What are they, just gifts for your other girlfriends?”
“Gifts? For other girlfriends? God, no, Aullie I’m not like that,” he explained. “I tried to tell you when I came to your apartment, but you slammed the door in my face. I called a few times but you had me blocked, so I figured I would respect your space. But what you saw isn’t what you thought it was.”
“Oh, so you weren’t out on an early date with some beautiful, curvaceous blonde? Her hand wasn’t on your knee, yours wasn’t on her forearm?”
Weston shook his head, looking exasperated. “Technically, yes, most of those things are true but it wasn’t some hot date. The woman you saw me with, who would love to hear those lovely compliments you gave her, is my cousin.”
