Page 100

Marlow

Three Months Later. . .

I stand back and let them look around, hoping they see the big picture like I do. Sure, it’s just an empty warehouse to some, but the potential is here. I just need them to believe in me.

Jackson makes a loop around the space again and then comes to stand next to me. “The business proposal was intriguing. It would impress any investor.”

“What about you?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and keeps his eyes ahead.

I can see how his size and that ticking jawline would be intimidating.

To others. Not me. I just think he’s so sexy when he’s walking around in rolled-up shirtsleeves.

He’s distracting from the reason we’re here today.

“It impresses me. I was running the numbers. If you were to ask me to invest . . .”

I pick some lint off his black shirt. He wiggles like I’m ruining his cover. I laugh but restrain my grin and mimic him instead. Trying to recover and be serious, I say, “I did ask you to invest.”

“I’d want seventy-five percent.”

Lowering my arms, I uncross his as well. “Okay, I don’t want you to invest that badly. Can you simply invest because you love me while letting me retain the majority so I can run the show?”

He starts chuckling, the sound drawing the attention of the other potential investors, basically our friends. “I would have given you that deal before we got out of bed this morning. You brought me here to compete with everyone else. That’s what I’m doing. Making you an offer and negotiating.”

“I thought you were still in a sex haze this morning from the fantastic blow job I gave you. I didn’t know you were being serious.”

“I’m always serious when it comes to money.”

Winter Everest comes over and says, “This is such an exciting proposition. To know we can have professional artists leading kids’ classes . . . if Bennett’s out, I’m in.”

“And if Bennett’s in?”

“We share everything so that means I’m in as well.” She smiles and adds, “You know how that is. It’s going to be a great space in support of the arts.”

More than I’ve announced, but that’s still to come . . .

As soon as she joins her husband and her sister-in-law just out of earshot, I nudge Jackson and say, “Looks like you got some competition,” under my breath.

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.”

I finally turn to face him and wrap my arms around his neck.

“I am, but I also know this is a good idea on several levels. This room will host world-class exhibits. The two studios will host our artists in residence and the classroom for the kids’ courses .

. .” Joy bubbles inside me, and I can hardly contain it. “It’s just a dream come true.”

Jackson’s hand covers my lower back, and he leans down to kiss that special spot behind my ear.

I shiver under his touch, always needing him in ways that I imagined being consumed feels like.

But now, it’s not just the physical connection that I thrive off of.

It’s the emotional we’ve built over the months.

It . . . we, grow stronger every day, entangling our lives so much that there’s no me or him. Only us.

When the front door opens, the excitement of the day continues. Grabbing Jackson’s hand, I say, “I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

“Who’s them?”

“Story. Story Salenger-Haywood. She’s an incredible photographer.

The hottest thing in photography in the city right now.

She’s quite the catch. I was lucky enough to meet her when I was at the other gallery.

” We start walking toward them. Quietly, I continue to fill him in, “She and her husband, Cooper, are interested in investing.”

“Is there anyone not investing?”

I glance up at him and start laughing. “Are you feeling the heat, St. James?”

He tugs at his already loosened collar. “Kind of.” I squeeze his hand. “Don’t worry. There’s a twist coming.”

“ Hi , I’m so glad you could make it.” I embrace Story like I’m meeting a hero. I am in some ways, but she’s so kind it’s hard to remember that she’s a sensation in the art world.

When we part, she says, “I was telling Cooper that we had to be a part of this. I think what you’re doing is amazing for the community, but also, it’s taking the art world in a new direction that’s usually hidden behind tickets and curators.”

“I haven’t spilled the beans yet.” I give her a wink, an insider’s secret signal.

I couldn’t help sharing my vision with her when we met a few months back once I started plotting my career comeback.

Brainstorming with her sent me on an all-new track.

I can’t wait to share it with everyone, including Jackson.

Yes, I kept a secret, but I wanted to do this all on my own and make him proud of me. Not that he’s not, but this is the biggest dream I’ve gone after.

Story wraps her arm around her husband. “This is Cooper Haywood. Marlow Marché and . . .”

Helping her out, I fill in with the smallest thing he is to me, “This is my boyfriend, Jackson St. James.” What he means to me is more than a word can describe, but we like titles and easy ways to classify for understanding. So boyfriend it is. For now.

Jackson shakes hands with Story while I greet Cooper. The guys shake each other’s hands while I wrap my arm with Story’s and walk her off to the side. I hear Cooper say, “St. James as in Manhattan Financial?”

“Formerly. That was my parents’ company. I work for myself these days. What do you do for a living?”

“Doctor. Pediatrician.”

“Impressive. Do you play basketball?”

“Poorly.” They chuckle, and knowing they’ll be thick as thieves soon enough, we leave them to their own devices. Story helps me retrieve the champagne from the back and asks, “Are you ready?”

I take a deep breath. Jackson’s favorite motivational phrase go get ’em, tiger crosses my mind, and I straighten my shoulders and nod. “More than ready.”

When we return to what will be the main gallery floor, I say, “Thank you all for coming today. I know you’re here to support me with your friendship and your encouragement and, more importantly, your wallet.

” That earns me some guffaws. “I’d say, but seriously, but we all know I need your money,” I deadpan, and then laugh, finding Jackson across the room, arms crossed over his chest, proud as a peacock with a smile on his face.

I scan the room and see some of the greatest people in this world, here to show their love and support—Cammie and her adorable baby belly, Cade wrapped around the back of her, and Tealey leaning against Rad’s chest, his arm draped over her shoulders.

Then I take in all the love that being with Jackson has added to my life, not only from him but also his family—Natalie and Nick, Andrew and Juni, Tatum and Harrison. Love is bubbling inside me, and I feel contentment and a sense of security.

It’s not just them, though. Seeing my dad and mom holding hands at the back of the room has me feeling even more emotional. I’ve spent my whole life trying to get their attention or make them proud. If possible, to do both at the same time.

This is the moment I’ve dreamed of for so long, and I’m making them come true. I conquered what I thought I couldn’t and came out on the other side with so much more—fulfillment.

“I knew the moment I had the idea that this is what I’m meant to do with my life.

So I brought you together not only as my family and friends and investors, but to share that I’ll be putting my professional hat aside to give rise to a new pursuit.

I believe that the arts are what puts humanity in our community.

In times of struggle, in times of pain, we don’t reach for a book on statistics.

We reach for poetry, music, paintings, photography, and other art forms to comfort us.

We reach for each other to see the good.

The best of us is found in the words and colors, photos and notes.

“Art shouldn’t only be accessible for the wealthy.

” Tilting my head, I shrug. “No judgment. Art also isn’t only for professionals who deem it worthy.

Art is for everyone. That’s why I want to create Art for the Community, and I need your donations to make that happen. Yes , donations for this non profit.”

My idea is received with silence, and I start to get nervous.

Guess I won’t pursue comedy. “You won’t make any money, but you will give a budding artist a chance to follow their passion and a place for this community to seek a reprieve from the heavy in life, just like art’s done for me.

So, who’s ready to write a check and make this happen? ”

“I am.”

Everyone turns to the back of the room, and I lift on my toes to see my dad holding a check in the air. “Your mom and I think it’s a brilliant idea. And not just because we’re your parents. As your parents, we’re so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom.”

Tealey comes forward, wiping her eyes. She knows the road I’ve traveled with them to get to a place of respect and peace in our relationship. “Rad and I would like to invest as well.” Hugging me, she whispers, “I’m so proud of you.”

Everyone lines up to hand me checks and hugs in support. Story is in tears and leaning against Cooper. It’s incredible to have so many amazing friends in my life, all willing to step forward to make dreams come true.

It’s so overwhelming that I almost forget part two of the night’s festivities.

“Strong closing.”

Those oceanic eyes captivate me, and I lean into his arms. Kissing the top of my head, he says, “Did you rehearse?”

“I’m asking for millions of dollars. The right answer would be yes.”

“And your answer?”

“No,” I reply shyly, a little embarrassed as well, but juggling part one and part two of tonight’s festivities have taken up a lot of my time.

He pinches my chin between his fingers and tilts me up. “I’m so damn proud of you. You’re forging your own path.”