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“I’m going to reclaim your art for you.”
She shook her head, her hair cascading over his chest. “A lot of it doesn’t even exist anymore.”
“But you had canvases, right, just like you do now?”
She nodded. He knew so well how she worked.
“It’s your name that’s most important.” After a long exhale, he said, “Let’s talk to Adrian. And Gareth. Together, the four of us will figure out how to recover what Hugo stole from you.”
Oddly, she found she didn’t care that much about Hugo anymore. If he hadn’t screwed her over, she wouldn’t be San Holo. If she hadn’t become San Holo, she wouldn’t have found Clay.
And finding Clay was the most important thing she’d ever done.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As the Saturday afternoon sun crept across Adrian’s office, she hugged Saskia and murmured for her ears only, “I’m so sorry. I know how much this hurts.”
Adrian hated the way Hugo had used her friend, all those years ago as well as now. He hadn’t revealed her identity out of magnanimity. He was simply trying to regain some of the value of his art. Especially the crap he’d painted since he’d torn Saskia’s world to bits.
But this was what Adrian had wanted for Saskia all along—to be public. To step out of her nighttime shadows and claim her name and her art.
Holding Saskia away from her, hands on her shoulders, she said for everyone to hear, “Are you okay?”
From the glow on Saskia’s face, Adrian could see she was fine. Better than fine. Amazing. Because of Clay.
Having arrived a few minutes before Saskia and Clay, who’d called for the meeting, Gareth Tate was already seated in a chair. “How the hell did Hugo Lewis even know San Holo was here in San Francisco?”
“The latest mural,” Clay said.
But Gareth shook his head. The man was gorgeous, his clothing impeccable, his body toned to a fine edge. Under other circumstances, Adrian might drool.
“I get that,” he said. “But how did he know Saskia was San Holo?”
Adrian took responsibility. “There was a photo of you two in the gossip columns.” She fluttered a hand at Clay and Saskia. “I tried to have it quashed. But not everyone took it down.”
Saskia gasped just as Adrian knew she would. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Adrian could have said that Saskia was so obsessed with Clay that she hadn’t answered Adrian’s texts or calls, especially since Hugo’s press conference. But she couldn’t blame Saskia. After all, she was the agent. She hired the publicists. “Honestly, I had no idea Hugo would put two and two together. That you were here. And so was San Holo. Ergo, you must be the same person.”
Clay came to her rescue. “It’s spilled milk. Let’s clean it up before it turns sour.”
Adrian pointed to the sofa. “Have a seat, and we’ll plan our strategy.”
Saskia and Clay sat together, hands linked, while Gareth dragged his chair to the opposite side of the coffee table. Rolling her desk chair closer, Adrian sat next to him. He smelled delicious.
With Gareth already briefed on Hugo’s machinations, Clay jumped in. “I intend to neutralize Lewis and get Saskia’s art back.”
The lawyer asked, “First of all—Saskia, why didn’t you go up against him before? Especially right after he claimed your name?”
Even as Saskia opened her mouth, Adrian stepped in, speaking mainly to her friend. “When Hugo stole your art and you had to start over, your name wasn’t as well known in the art world. You were good, and you were growing, but you weren’t quite there yet.” She turned to Gareth. “Neither of us thought we could win if we went up against Hugo.”
Saskia held tight to Clay’s hand. “I have to admit I felt beaten. I didn’t want anything more to do with him, especially not a long legal fight.”
Gareth nodded briefly. Clay put his arm around Saskia’s shoulders, giving her comfort. But her friend had her own strength now.
Adrian looked at Saskia. “As San Holo, you have a lot more clout than you did five years ago.” She took a deep breath, hoping Saskia was ready to hear this. “If you embrace that he outed you, you could come out publicly and say that his art prior to five years ago is yours.”
Saskia swallowed hard, as if it hurt.