PLAYED - A BRITISH BAD BOY ROMANCE (17 page)

She answered on the third ring.

“What do you want?”

I ignored the aggravation in her tone.

“Jess, I need to apologize for my behavior the last few days,” I told
her. “I lost my cool in New Orleans… I know you meant the best for me and I’m
sorry I cocked it all up. What you did here… Getting the guys together… I
needed this.”

“Don’t mention it you damned fool. I’ve already forgiven you,” Jess
chuckled. “Glad to see you came to your senses so quickly. I thought you might
hole yourself up in your little stadium and play football for a week before
anyone
saw you again.”

“I might still take a couple more hours,” I smiled.

She laughed down the line.

“So come out with it. I know you didn’t just call me to say thanks.”

“Did you find the number I’m looking for?” I asked.

“You pay me for a reason, don’t you?” Jess laughed. “Of course I have
the damn number.”

“In that case, put me through to Gloria Van Lark…”

Chapter 15

Riley

When I came back down to the Pulliam Gallery, I had no idea what awaited
me. It wasn’t every day the head curator summoned me down to speak with a
possible buyer, and some of my largest and most expensive works were housed in
the Pulliam… I was completely taken aback by whom my mystery admirer was.

“Oh, it’s you again,” I smiled at the lithe, old woman. She was dressed
in a long, oversized coat and loafers, carefully regarding one of my biggest
paintings. This one carried a price tag higher than most automobiles, and I
never would have assumed she could have afforded it… “How are you doing?” I
asked quietly.

“I’m a bit cold, but I think I’ll manage,” she responded warmly as I
walked up. Her eyes remained on the artwork. “You know, most artists these days
feel like they have to be so self-important… that they must reinvent the wheel…
bring something completely new to the field. In some cases, it’s true. Most who
try, fail. But you… I’ve given it some thought. I think you have some serious
talent for your craft.”

I glanced nostalgically up at the painting.

“What do you think of it?” I asked.

“You’re asking for my opinion?”

“I am,” I nodded. “I have my personal thoughts on it, but I wonder what
you think. You were so kind to me last time, after all.”

The old woman turned to the canvas and sighed to herself, contemplating
the presentation. This wasn’t one of my usual landscapes – it was the painting
of a small girl, holding a puppy upright in her arms as she stood along the
beach, its legs dangling down. Her back was to the water, and her pet covered
most of her smiling face. The tide was nipping at her ankles as she faced the
viewer, and the sun was setting quietly in the background.

“Fear,” she finally spoke.

“Fear? What do you mean by that?”

The woman glanced over at me tenderly, and then back to the painting
again. “See how the child faces away from the ocean? She has turned her back on
the world, hiding behind the comfort of another living creature. She feels the
cold of the tide, but refuses to venture into its embrace. This child is one
who is trapped between worlds – unable to join that of the spectator, and
unwilling to exist joyously within her own.”

“That’s an interesting conclusion,” I remarked, pressing a pair of
fingers to my chin as I studied the artwork alongside her. “I’d always thought
it more of the opposite – refusing the comfort of the sea to confront the
audience, offering up the sight of the dog as a gift, maybe.”

The woman smiled. “Such is the wonder of art. Such varied interpretations.
You never know what the artist expects or the audience finds.”

“Do you like it?” I asked her curiously.

“Yes, I believe that I do. I’m somewhat fond of the artist herself,
having been able to converse with her a few times.”

“I painted this one,” I responded, confused. “I’ve only seen you here
twice now.”

“I know,” she winked. “But I’ve been here a little more often than that.
You just haven’t seen me… but I’ve seen you. And I’ve spoken to you, through
observing your artwork. You are an interesting young woman, Riley.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever gotten your name,” I recalled, reaching out
my hand to her. “You obviously know who I am. Riley Ricketts. Who might you
be?”

“Oh, you know who I am,” she smiled. “You’ve been waiting for me for a
long time.”

The cogs in my brain snapped, trying to rectify this impossible
scenario. It couldn’t be. But it was…

“You’re Gloria Van Lark,” I murmured.

She smiled triumphantly. “Indeed.”

My brain worked at a hundred miles an hour. “But… your reputation… you’re
supposed to be tall, hawkish, with dark hair and spectacles… I’ve seen pictures
of you! I’ve
met
you!”

Gloria smiled knowingly. “My proxy, Paulette. She operates in my stead,
representing me across the world. I have taught her over the many years to
reflect my precise eye for artwork, and I sometimes accompany her to ensure
that the proper decisions are made.”

“So, that was Paulette that I spoke with before.”

“Aye,” Gloria acknowledged. “I stayed in town for a few days, enjoying
some of your delicious cuisine and museums. I wasn’t sold on your work, but a
very compelling phone call convinced me to give you another try.”

“Phone call?”

“Your investor,” she clarified. “On principle, I would have turned the
money down, but I was nonetheless intrigued by his offer…”

“I don’t know what
investor
you might be talking about, but I’m glad to have had the opportunity to meet
you –
properly
, this time,” I found
myself blurting out.

“Agreed. You say you don’t know who it is?”

“Not at all,” I answered truthfully.

She stepped closer, peering deeply into my eyes. I felt a strong sense
of sudden invasion as she glanced into the windows to my soul, studying me
very, very carefully.

“…I see,” she murmured to herself. “Well, that convinces me then.”

“Convinces you of what?” I asked, unwilling to let my hopes rise too
much.

“I wanted to be the one to tell you to your face that Gloria Van Lark
cannot
be bought. Not with fancy words,
and not with million dollar donations.”

Million dollar donations?
Lex! What the hell did you do?!?

“But I can see now that you haven’t orchestrated this meeting… And…
Perhaps I’ve grown rather fond of a
few
of
your pieces during my time here in New Orleans.”

I hung on her every word, and Gloria beamed with pride as she spoke the
words I never thought I’d hear in my wildest dreams:

“Riley Ricketts, I would be my pleasure to purchase select pieces to
feature in your very own exhibit within the
Spinnoc
galleries.”

I could barely contain my excitement.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!” I exclaimed, resisting every urge to
throw my arms around this woman and hug her to death. “This means so much to
me… I can’t possibly thank you enough…”

“There is a condition,” she added quickly.

“A condition?” I asked, puzzled at her tone.

“Walk with me,” Gloria told me, and I fell into step beside her as we
crossed the museum, passively observing the exhibits.

“The condition is your undivided attention,” she stipulated. “I don’t
fancy
all
of your artwork, but I do
appreciate a few choice selections. If you want an exhibit in the
Spinnoc
, you will have to focus entirely
on your craft. You will need to move to San Diego. I can give you room and
board with studio access, and I’ll fully expect to see more of your work within
several months.”

“Move to San Diego? I….”

Gloria cut me off before I could finish my thought.

“And I want none of these landscapes. They’re good, but not nearly good
enough to display in my galleries. Leave them to the professionals, and
concentrate on the conceptual pieces and portraits that really demonstrate your
talent.”

“You… want me to move across the country?”

“Well, naturally,” she answered, glancing over at me. “That won’t be a
problem, will it?”

“I’ll… have to think about that,” I answered. “I mean, my whole life is
here. For a short while, I thought about going to England with someone, but we
had a bit of a…
falling out
. He left
the country a couple of days ago.”

“England, you say?” She commented. “Well. That certainly makes sense. It
seems you may know your investor after all…” she eyed me sideways, “…or you
only just figured that out. Either way, you should have probably reconciled
with him when you had the chance.”

“Why’s that?”

“I thought he perhaps loved you. I could hear it in his voice as we
spoke. He must have divested a great deal of resources into finding me, because
I make myself scarce on purpose… and I don’t particularly enjoy being found.”

I had no response. I just turned and stared at the painting of the girl.

“Never mind all that,” Gloria continued. “I can see I was mistaken as to
the strength of your relationship… If you wish to pursue proper representation
in my galleries, you will accompany me back to California. The last thing I
need is for you to become distracted with such
mundane
affairs when I’ve come to recognize your worth.”

“When do you need a decision?” I asked quietly, thinking about Lex. Why
had he done this? I’d shut him out of my life. Did he think bribing Gloria
would win me over?

Gloria glanced at a modest watch on her arm. “You have approximately
fourteen hours before we board my private jet back to California. I trust that
you’ll pack light. I can make the arrangements to observe and purchase any of
your existing artwork that I see fit to obtain, but I’ll be expecting you to
settle yourself quickly and get straight to work. No dilly-dallying.”

I thought to my life here in New Orleans, and how rooted I was in this
magnificent city. My soul had flourished here for years, powered by the magic
in this place.

And then there were my friends.

Reiko would understand, but she’d hate it. She was such a fantastic
companion that I dreaded being separated from her. I knew she hated California
and wouldn’t be willing to move out that way for me.

Will would be devastated. Sure, he could be a pain in the ass, but he
was a valuable friend and had been a strong component to my support network
since we were kids. Over the last few days we’d reconciled, and I think he
finally understood the way our relationship needed to be… But leaving on such
sudden notice would be hard…

“As I said, you have fourteen hours,” Gloria Van Lark repeated, turning
on her heel. “If you wish to accompany me, you will meet me here at the steps
to this museum at that time. I eagerly await your answer.”

With that, the mysterious curator of one of the world’s most prestigious
and exclusive museums turned on a heel, strolling straight towards the exit.

I felt like I was going to topple to the ground. This was no ordinary
offer. I reached out behind myself as my knees began to buckle. My fingertips
found a bench, and I collapsed down into it, struggling to process everything
that just happened.

I had a choice to make:

My dream, finally come true?

Staying here with my friends and my life?

And what the hell was I going to do about Lex?

I had less than a day to decide… and I didn’t have the faintest idea of
what to do.