Page 90 of Art of Love
I told her to enjoy painting what she loved most and give it herall.
I did the same, except that I was painting the thing I loved most.
In my basement were at least ten paintings of her.
Her standing by the lake near the studio, her as the woman in the lake, her asleep on my bed with the sunlight spilling over her, her asleep in my bed with the moonlight gracing her beautiful skin.
It was her.
Everything was her, and all I wanted was her. So, I’d decided that night weeks ago that I was bowing out of the job because I wanted her to have it.
I could do something else, find another way, but I wanted her to remember something good happening to her in her life.
So, this was me, and today was D-Day.
Last night I told her to meet me at the studio. I didn’t want it awkward here.
I was just packing this painting up for her. They were all hers, but this one was what I wanted for us. If she would have me.
I hoped like hell she wouldn’t be mad at me when she found out what I’d done.
***
Jia
***
Isipped on the lastof my hot chocolate and threw the cup in the bin.
Time to go and face the music.
I should have had a travel case carrying the pieces for my collection, but I carried nothing but my little purse.
It was my stupid purse. It had a little monkey on the side with crazy eyes.
And I was dressed in my shorts, a tank top, and a shirt that tied up in front.
I looked like I was going to the mall on a Saturday afternoon for a quick buy.
That was what I looked like.
Not like the professional I was supposed to be on the day I’d worried about for months. Right from the middle of August when John hit me with the news of what he wanted me to do and introduced Hunter as my competitor.
What a day that was with the mother of all coincidences.
And here I was about to sabotage myself.
I decided that night weeks ago that I was going to bow out of the competition because it was better that way.
Sure, I could have done what Hunter said and put up a good fight, but I didn’t see that point.
I might have had a chance, but I might not have. For me, it came to the decisive factor of who deserved the job more, and I chose him.
He deserved it, and when he got it, I didn’t want him to feel any other way than deserving of an accomplishment and proud of an achievement. He already had it in the bag, and this was my way of not making things awkward.
I went down to the show room as instructed. I was late on purpose and expected Hunter and John to be there with Hunter’s collection.
Except ...
