Page 174 of Lovestruck at Sundown
“Dad?” The word came out too soft. I even doubted if he’d listened, but he had. He was staring back at me with expectation, his brow slightly wrinkled. “Can we just … start over? Leave the past in the past?”
“We already have, kiddo.” He took a step forward and embraced me, and for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to rest my cheek against his chest and let him hold me. Let him be the loving, supporting father I knew he could be.
“I think I should go look for Louis to congratulate him,” he said, breaking off the embrace and looking down at the floor as ifto settle his emotions. “Are you free next week for lunch?”
“I am.” No tears came, enough had been shed. All I felt was peace. “Call me.”
“I will,” he replied.
“I think it’s time for us to leave, too. We need to go check in on Nina.”
“Before you go,” my dad added, pulling out an envelope from his jacket pocket and handing it over to me. “Your mother never got to make a will because she was too young to even think about making one before she died, but she loved that apartment. And as much as I regret selling it, I’m glad William was the buyer, and that you get to keep living in it.” He looked at the floor but smiled before lifting his gaze to meet mine again. “This belongs to you.”
He took a step forward, and without warning, he threw his arms around me and pulled me in for a tender embrace. “Let me know the time and date of your exhibit, kiddo, and I will be the first to arrive.” He kissed my cheek and walked away.
Liam and I got in the car, and as Aaron drove us to Nina’s favorite taco place, Liam said, “If you don’t open that envelope, I will.”
I dangled the envelope in front of him like a carrot to a rabbit. “How long will it take you to text Tobias once you see what’s inside?” I teased.
“Well, it depends on how juicy and gossip-worthy the contents are.” He tried plucking the envelope from my grasp as we both laughed, but I was quicker than him.
I finally tore it open, but my laughter dissolved into an audible gasp when I saw the check for the astounding sum of 1.2 million dollars written to my name. It was juicy, all right.
“You are definitely going to want to text Tobias after you see this.”
October 29, 2012
When I gothome after the gallery opening on Saturday, I stared at my dad’s check for a while, unable to fathom that money was now mine. However, I placed it inside my safety box before going to bed. Since I was traveling, I couldn’t deposit it into my account until I returned.
One of the first things I would do with the money was pay William back for my tuition and other graduation costs he covered. I decided to wait to tell him about the check and my desire to pay him back until he returned to avoid giving him time to think about different ways to prevent that from happening.
Aaron came knocking on my door yesterday when I was packing my bag for the 48-hour work trip where Abigail would interview an influential film executive traveling to Munich. He wanted to know if I wanted to go alone on this trip or if I wanted him to come with me. After thinking about it for a moment, I decided to go alone. It was time to cut the umbilical cord and start doing things on my own. I couldn’t forget the sense of freedom that grabbing a plane to South Africa had given me, and I wanted to experience that again.
After checking my list ten times to make sure I wasn’tforgetting anything, I walked downstairs to the lobby with my things. Aaron was driving me to the office where I would meet Abigail. I still needed to grab a few items from the studio to take with me on the trip, and then Aaron would drive us to the airport. The flight was scheduled for departure at 6:00 p.m., so we had to leave with enough time due to rush hour.
Abigail worked on her phone most of the drive to the airport while I stared out the window. But once we got stuck in traffic, I pulled out my phone to check my email. Between the spam and other work emails I didn’t plan to pay attention to until I returned, I spotted an email from Louis Beaumont. The subject read:Exhibit proposal.
Thousands of butterflies took flight inside my stomach. I was nervous—good nervous, to be precise. I opened the attached file and zoomed in to read it.
The proposal looked good. The document included several ways I would be compensated, starting with an upfront fee to help with the travel expenses, installation costs, and the sales of the portraits during the exhibition. The sales commission seemed fair, or at least it did to me. Not that I knew much of the business yet, but I knew I would say yes either way. The gallery would handle publicity and event exposure, including distributing promotional materials.
The only thing that raised my eyebrows was that they wanted me to travel to Paris to meet with the curator for a full week in January and again two weeks before the exhibit and two weeks after its opening.
I had a full-time job at the magazine, and I didn’t know how I would manage to do it all. It’s one thing to take a day or two off occasionally, but knowing Becca, I knew she wouldn’t be thrilled about me having to leave for extended periods of time.
This seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but Ineeded to make a difficult decision about my career path. My job at Haute Magazine was exciting and dynamic, and it kept me busy, which is something I valued, especially when William was away for months. But mostly, I wasn’t ready to give up my job at Empire Magazine, and something told me both jobs were part of a package deal.
I let out a frustrated sigh.
“Everything all right?” Abigail asked, putting her phone away.
“I … yeah,” I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to discuss this with Abigail. She knew about the exhibit offer because Louis had told her about it before he came to me with the offer. However, talking to her about possibly choosing between keeping my jobs or taking the leap into the unknown with this project was another thing entirely.
She met my gaze with fierce determination and said, “Tell me what’s going on.” It sounded like an order, and I didn’t think I’d be able to disobey her. I respected her too much to do so.
“Louis Beaumont sent me the official proposal for the exhibit, and it looks amazing.”
“So what is the problem?” She tucked one of her blonde curls behind her ear and turned her hips to face me.
