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He sees me.
For the first time since the twisted triangle I’ve been stuck in with Ashley and Ricky, I feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things can truly be normal for me.
“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate the kind words. It’s been a challenging time, but I’m very excited to get back to work and finish my courses.”
“Speaking of your work, Megan, the Turlington Gallery was very interested in a few of your pieces. Unfortunately for them, they were already sold.”
I gasp with excitement.
The Turlington Gallery is a prestigious art gallery located in the Beverly Hills section of the city. They tend to feature local artists but established ones. The fact that they were at our showcase is already exciting, but they liked one of my pieces. That’s extraordinary.
“I’m sorry I missed meeting the curator,” I say, for the first time feeling the sting of what I actually missed out on when I was tied up in a basement.
“That’s okay because they want to commission a piece.”
“I’m sorry?” I ask, swallowing thickly.
“The gallery wants to commission a work from you. I don’t know all the details, but that’s what you’ll meet with them to find out. Of course, you can bring any professor of your choosing to the meeting just so you’re not in over your head. But I guarantee you this, Megan. This commission will be life-changing for you. You will end up being one of the most successful graduates of the university if this happens. Kudos to you.”
I try not to cry, at least not in front of the Dean.
“Thank you, Dean.”
Once he turns away, I pull my cell phone out of the side pocket of my cargo jeans and call the one person I think about when I’m this excited about anything.
“What’s wrong?” Hunter answers grimly.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you calling me in the middle of class?”
“Hunter–”
“Speak, Megan, or I’m going to break the legs of your security detail.” His voice tightens. “Is something wrong?”
“Stop threatening to do things I know you’d never do.”
“You clearly don’t know me,” he growls.
“I’m calling to tell you something exciting.”
“What is it?” His voice suddenly smooths out.
The Turlington Gallery wants to commission a piece from me.
“Congratulations.”
“It’s a big deal, Hunter,” I say, wondering why he’s not more excited for me, although excitement is not a common emotion I’ve ever seen from him.
“I know.”
I pause for a moment.
“You had nothing to do with it, did you?”
“I’m good at a lot of things, Megan, but believe it or not, I’m not all-powerful. You secured the commission all on your own.”
“I better have.”