28. Evan
Evan pivotedthe vacuum cleaner around the coffee table, pleased that he could no longer hear little particles of grit and grime being sucked into the brush. He was winning the battle—if not the war—that was his and Nick’s living room. With the home visit on the horizon, Evan was bound and determined to help Nick pass with flying colors.
As he turned back toward the couch, he saw his phone screen light up with Kelly’s name. That was a call he couldn’t afford to miss, no matter the state of the carpet, so he turned off the vacuum and grabbed it from the coffee table, answering with a breathless “Hello?”
“Hi, Evan. Sorry, you weren’t asleep, were you?”
Sydney’s late-night escapades and early morning meant he’d been up for hours, but artsy-fartsy people often slept until noon, so he could see why Kelly might make that assumption. “No, I’m up. What’s going on? Thank you again for everything last night.”
“You’re very welcome. I was calling to talk numbers.”
“Oh?” Evan liked the sound of that. He flopped on the couch. “Did I sell anything?”
“You certainly did. Simon Vessey bought three of your pieces.”
Evan’s breath caught in his throat. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Three pieces. One of them, apparently, was a gift for Amara Apte, because she took a picture of it and posted it to her Instagram and… I take it you haven’t seen?”
“I… no. It’s been a long night.” That, and his social media manager was going through a personal crisis, and he had no wish to delve into the comments section on his own.
“Well, you might want to take a peek after we get off the call.” She paused, and even over the phone, Evan could tell she was doing it for emphasis. “But that’s not actually the best news.”
He didn’t see how it could get any better than Simon buying three pieces, considering that even the least expensive work had been going for five thousand dollars. “It’s not?”
“Reed Barton cornered me last night and asked if I could set up a private showing this morning. Of course, I said yes, but when he showed up, he wasn’t alone.” Another pause for dramatic effect, and really, someone ought to give the woman an award. “He was with her.”
Evan frowned. “With who?”
“Rachel Roberts.”
What the fuck? Pulling the phone away from his ear, Evan stared at the screen as if it might elucidate how one of the hottest up-and-coming actresses on the planet had ended up at a private viewing of his work. Rachel Roberts had been nominated for an Oscar for her breakout role and was the hottest commodity in Hollywood, according to the gossip blogs Evan definitely didn’t scroll through endlessly when he was trying to fall asleep. Except for how he totally did that. The media loved Rachel, and so did Evan, who’d seen everything she’d done.
“I don’t understand,” he said.
“She’s filming something at UW, and I guess Reed’s helping her build a portfolio because she’s got money to burn right now. Anyway, he showed up with her this morning, totally unbeknownst to me, and I nearly died, but I kept it together and showed her your stuff.”
“Wow. Amazing.” Evan couldn’t quite comprehend just how amazing it was. His brain didn’t connect the dots until Kelly spoke again.
“She was so impressed, and Reed was going on and on about how you’re going to be huge. She wants two pieces.”
Evan was sure he’d misheard. “She… two, really? Which ones?”
“Now in Color and Provence.”
“Holy shit. That’s, like… twenty grand.”
Kelly didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she laughed. “Well, but that’s the thing I’m really excited about. After Simon made his purchase, I decided your work was considerably undervalued. So when Reed started poking around about prices for her, I inflated things. Considerably. So congratulations, Evan. You’ve cleared nearly fifty thousand dollars in less than twenty-four hours, and that’s after my cut.”
Evan was sure he’d misheard. “I’m sorry. What? Didn’t they know you were, uh… charging too much?”
“Well, it’s not as if I put price tags on the wall. Each of Simon’s purchases was ten, and I doubled that for Reed and Rachel. Plus, some of the smaller pieces sold to other collectors, and I have other potential purchasers lined up to visit.”
“Jesus, that’s…”
It was more money than Evan had ever earned at one time. Not quite life changing, but certainly life improving, and validating too. If he could keep that up—keep producing, keep making work that was more and more valuable—his dream of New York and a gallery and everything he’d ever wanted might actually come true.
“That’s incredible, Kell. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You built the momentum. I just hosted the show.”
Sydney built the momentum, he thought, though that wasn’t quite right. Sydney had helped with the social media buzz, sure, but none of it would have happened without this place—the attic, the house, and Nick, who’d proven so very inspirational.
“I’d imagine that what’s left will go fast,” Kelly said. “Are you sure you don’t want to sell Sitcom?”
Sitcomwas the piece with Nick and Evan, which Evan had stated wasn’t for sale from the jump. “Nope. That one’s mine.”
“Suit yourself—Rachel was interested, but I told her no. If nothing else, you ought to let me evaluate what you have in storage. And not to put myself out of business here, Evan, but you need an agent. A real one who deals with big-timers. I’m going to make some calls on your behalf, put you in touch with some people I know.”
“This feels like it’s happening so fast. And like it should be happening to someone else.”
“I’d imagine fame often does when it first hits. But you can’t have an existential crisis over whether you deserve it. Like it or not, the spotlight’s shining directly on you.”
“Right, yes,” Evan said, though he couldn’t help but think that he didn’t deserve it. He’d only been making an effort for a matter of months after spending years half-assing it. Surely, there were other people who’d been working longer and harder and were still toiling in obscurity.
But maybe that was just what a little hustle could do for someone who wanted it badly enough. In college, they’d all known Maureen Thomas wasn’t the most talented of their cohort, but she’d worked her ass off to network, and now she was known worldwide. Or maybe Evan was just jealous, and she’d been better than he thought. There was no use indulging his little green-eyed monster. Now that he was getting a taste of what Maureen had, perhaps he ought to cut the Bitter Betty routine and admit that she had known what she was doing when she flaunted her wares.
“One other thing,” Kelly said, a warning note in her voice. “Don’t let this distract you from your work. You need to keep producing and keep your head on straight.”
Evan swallowed, his throat dry. “It… no, it won’t.” If anything, the recent snowball of his success was motivating him to work harder and faster. He had ideas for a dozen new pieces, and his fingers were itching to bring those ideas to life.
“Good. Keep it that way. Anyway, like I said, I’ll make some calls today, see who might be a good fit for you. This is exciting, Evan—”
“Thank you,” he blurted. “Again. Not just for last night, but for everything. For giving me a chance. I don’t know. Sorry. I feel like an asshole if I’m getting an agent and leaving you.”
“Evan, I’m fine. I’m proud of you. Just don’t forget me when you’re rich and famous, okay? Send me a postcard now and then.”