Page 13 of Announcing Love (Sporting Pride #5)

Art and Artistry was way more amazing than Artem imagined.

It was huge and fancy as fuck. The place was a genuine gallery, filled with art that cost so much it didn’t have a tag.

Tamara was nothing like he pictured. He didn’t know what he had truly expected, but it wasn’t a six-foot-four queen in six-inch heels, towering over him with hair almost as tall as her heels. She was wonderful.

With her arm linked through Artem’s, she gave him the full tour while Tip trailed along in their wake. “Now, Tip tells me you’ve brought a sample of your work with you. I loved everything I saw in the video he sent, but I’d very much like to see one of your paintings in person.”

“Sure. It’s in Tip’s SUV out front.”

Tamara glanced over her shoulder. “Be a dear, Tip, and grab that painting. You don’t have to worry about your angel. I won’t eat him.”

A deep chuckle rumbled behind him, stealing Artem’s breath. He had always believed there was nothing he wanted more than to be right here, staring at the possibility of being a real artist. Now there was this man, and Artem found a deeper desire.

Tamara dragged him over to an empty wall with display lights. It was obvious the spot was in the process of becoming a fresh showing. “I can get the perfect view here.”

Tip appeared with the painting.

Tamara gasped as she hung it on the wall.

“Fabulous.” She hit a button he hadn’t noticed.

It switched one display light to a black light, highlighting the hidden images.

The light combination showed the painting in a way even Artem hadn’t seen before.

It had turned out really well, but he wasn’t sure it was good enough for this place.

“I absolutely love it. This isn’t taught. Artists like you are born. Most people see Medusa as a monster. She was the victim, and I’ll never stop dying on that hill. You did a wonderful job of capturing that female inner rage against the injustice.”

Artem’s throat swelled. She saw it. Tamara got his vision. He could die now. His dream had already been reached. A genuine curator had seen through his eyes and loved it.

Tamara met his gaze. She had a very serious look about her that scared him a little.

“I’ll arrange to pick up the rest. The next big auction is in six weeks.

I like to have all the pieces displayed for at least a month.

That gives buyers plenty of time to salivate. Now, how many pieces can I expect?”

Artem blinked. He was so taken aback, Artem didn’t know how to answer. “I don’t know. How many do you need? I have at least twenty I can count off the top of my head.”

She gave him a sharp nod. Her hair shifted a little.

“Let’s start with ten. We don’t want to overwhelm people.

Plus, a new artist usually only sells for between fifty to seventy-five thousand apiece.

” She paused. “In fact, let’s take it down to five.

That way, next time, people will be familiar with your work.

Then you could be looking at several hundred thousand apiece. ”

Artem’s mind had stuttered to a halt at fifty to seventy-five. At hundreds of thousands, he wanted to bend at the waist and suck air.

Tamara kept talking like she hadn’t completely upended his life. “If you’re okay with it, I’ll go ahead and pick up everything you have to sell. We have the perfect environment to store artwork and insurance to keep the pieces safe until you’re ready to display each one.”

Artem felt like a fish out of water.

Thankfully, Tip obviously wasn’t. “That sounds great. Let’s set up an appointment for that.”

Artem nodded because he was only along for the ride at that point. “Let’s do that.”

Tip set his hand on the small of Artem’s back and steered him toward the office behind Tamara.

Everything became a blur. Tip negotiated percentages and Artem signed paperwork.

In less than two hours, he was back inside Tip’s SUV and on the road.

Thankfully, Tip didn’t force him to talk.

He let Artem have his internal meltdown.

Silence stayed between them until Artem was back with Ginger. As he ran his hand down her back and she nudged him with her head, the first full breath filled his lungs. He immediately took another.

“My dad was a real estate agent, and my mom was a stay-at-home parent.” Artem’s head came up at the words.

Tip didn’t look at him. He petted Ginger and kept talking.

“Mom ran me all over the state for years for games and tournaments. Regular season and all-star games. It’s really because of her that I made it.

My dad made a good living, but we were just regular middle-class people.

I had everything I needed and whatnot, but I was by no means spoiled.

We lived in a three-bedroom house, and I went to public school.

You know, just typical in every way.” He looked up and met Artem’s stare.

“Then a multi-million- dollar contract appeared under my nose. And then another for sponsorships and another for another thing. I hadn’t known so much money existed in the world.

Suddenly, I had the ability to do absolutely anything I wanted, and I did.

I’d like to think I was also smart about it since I invested heavily, quadrupling my income.

But I wasn’t prepared at all for how it would change me and I damn sure wasn’t ready for how it transformed everyone around me.

You’re not like me. Bandit dropped in your life and your family passed the test. It didn’t change you.

Not a single fucking person passed that test in my life.

” Tip visibly swallowed and went back to focusing on petting Ginger.

He didn’t stop talking. It just seemed like he couldn’t look at Artem anymore.

“My dad immediately quit his job. He was already a functioning alcoholic at the time. Once he was free and siphoning off me, he had all the free time and money to drink himself straight into the grave less than a year later.”

Artem froze. He couldn’t look away from Tip. There was so much pain in his voice. It was like looking at a different person.

“Logically, I’ve always known it’s not my fault, but it kind of is.

After he died, Mom sort of threw herself into my little sister, spoiling her and focusing completely on her life.

My younger brother kind of fell to the wayside.

Well, you see how that worked out. Somehow, at some point, I became the bad guy if I didn’t let her have whatever she wanted.

After all, I got to have my dad growing up.

Miranda didn’t since she was only eight when he died.

Now she’s twenty and the worst human alive.

She married someone just like her and had a kid.

Over the years, it’s just been so much easier to just give in than listen to the guilt trips.

Mom gave up so much time she could’ve spent with Dad running me everywhere.

That’s why I have what I have. The least I can do is make sure they’re cared for.

So on and so forth. Oh, my favorite is: what do you care?

It’s not like you’ll even notice the money’s gone. ”

Tip shook his head and met Artem’s stare.

“But I got a little off topic. I started saying all that to say this—I know how your life changed today. Unlike me, you’re not alone and you’re not surrounded by people who will make this feel like a curse rather than the fruits of your labor.

You earned this, Artem. This is your talent paying off, but I know it’s a huge shift, and I won’t let you be alone. ”

Artem had lost the ability to care about himself two sentences into this conversation.

“You’re not alone either. I’m right here.

There’s never been a day when I wanted anything from you other than just you.

You’re not alone anymore.” He stressed each word, hoping they finally took root.

Artem desperately wanted Tip to stop feeling like an island.

Tip didn’t react to Artem’s plea for Tip to hear him. He straightened his shoulders. “Speaking of my nightmare family, I guess I should head over there and deal with their latest bullshit. I’ll get you settled in the house before I go.”

Artem blew out a sigh and relented. All he could do was keep showing Tip he wasn’t going anywhere while trying to give more than he took. He wasn’t sure that last bit was truly happening, but he still tried.

He forced himself to be more positive. “She kept your painting. When we get home tomorrow, you should pick a different one before they disappear.”

Tip linked fingers with him and headed toward the house. It was beautiful. “Speaking of that, I was kind of hoping—once you got here and saw Ginger again—I could convince you to stay more than one night. There isn’t another game until Saturday, and I don’t want to share you.”

Damn it. He really wanted that, and Tip had been all vulnerable and shit.

Was this the crossroads Baba spoke about?

Surely not, but now he questioned everything.

Tamara had talked a good game about a lot of money, but that wasn’t in his hand yet.

He couldn’t lose his job. Shit. “You don’t need Ginger to convince me.

I don’t want to share you either.” Fuck, he was so tired.

Tip pulled Artem to a stop at the door. He crowded Artem’s space.

His intense stare had Artem breathing harder as Tip came in for a kiss.

He pulled away after a sweet kiss and pressed his lips against Artem’s forehead.

“The code to the door is the same here as my other place. The alarm code is the same as the password to my phone.”