Chapter Nineteen
Harley
It’s been a crazy few days, but I’ve enjoyed every second of it.
When Pierce came back on Tuesday evening, he was torn between excitement, confusion and fear, and for a while, he veered between those three emotions as we sat together on the couch and he explained what had happened. I’d thought we might discuss it over dinner, but he was way too wired to eat, so I kept the chicken warm, and sat facing him, trying to understand it all.
“You’re not disappointed that you’re filling in for someone else?” I asked, once he’d told me everything, although it was kinda disjointed.
“No. I was to start with, but Mr. Bowman said he’d have given me an exhibition anyway… sometime later in the year.”
“I see. And they’re really gonna sell your pictures for that much money?”
“That’s what he said.” He stood up, wandering to the window, and pushing his fingers back through his hair. He stared out at the street for a moment, and while I was tempted to ask what was going through his mind, I thought it best to leave him. It didn’t take long before he turned and rushed back to me, kneeling at my feet. “It’s too good to be true, isn’t it? I mean, it can’t be happening.”
“It’s happening,” I said, putting my arms around him. “And you deserve every part of it.”
He kissed me and then sat up on the couch again. “They want as many paintings as I can give them, so I’ll probably have to work every spare second I’ve got.”
“That’s okay.”
“You won’t mind?”
“No. As long as you won’t mind me sitting upstairs with you.”
“Not at all.”
“I guess this means you’ll have to stop working for Mom and Dad?” I asked, wondering what might happen if he left their employment. Where would he live? Where would I live, for that matter?
He shook his head, surprising me. “As I was leaving, Mr. Bowman explained that the gallery handles all the sales, and that someone in the finance department will report to me at the end of each week… but that I won’t get paid until the end of the exhibition.”
“I see. So you’ll leave then, will you?”
“Who knows? I mean, this is great, and I’m so excited, I don’t really know what to do, or what to say, but this might be all there is, so I don’t wanna make any decisions about the future… not yet.”
“Why not? You’re being given the opportunity of a lifetime, Pierce. This is what you’ve always wanted… the chance to fulfill your dreams. You should grab it with both hands.” I couldn’t let my fears hold him back, and I didn’t want to.
“Except that’s not the most sensible thing to do, is it? There’s nothing steady about this. I can’t guarantee I’d have a regular income, or where I’d need to live, or… or anything, really.”
“And? That’s never worried you before.”
“I know. But it was only me before, and now I’ve got you to think about.”
I pulled away from him, shaking my head. “You think I’d stop you from doing this, when I know it’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted in life?”
He moved closer, pulling me into his arms. “Not the only thing. I’ve spent ages trying to find someone to share this with, and now I have, there’s no way I’d give you up. Not for this, or anything else.” He stared into my eyes. “The truth is, you’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted. None of this means anything without you.” I opened my mouth to contradict him, but he shook his head, and I waited while he added. “I’m not saying I won’t follow this particular dream. But I’ll need to think it through a lot more seriously than I would have done before.” I nestled against him and he kissed the top of my head. “You don’t need to worry, babe. It’s not as though I’ve gotta decide straight away. It’s one exhibition that could amount to nothing more than a bit of extra cash in the bank. So, let’s enjoy it while we can.”
I appreciated his logic and the love that lay behind it, and as he seemed to have calmed down a little, I dished up our honey-glazed chicken and salad, and we sat at the table to eat.
“I didn’t explain to you about Kaiden’s involvement,” he said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
“Of course… I’d forgotten about him. Will the two of you have to work closely together?”
“No.” He shook his head, taking a sip of water. “He’s been suspended.”
“By his own father?”
“Yes. The artist who was gonna be exhibiting has accused Kaiden of some kind of sexual misconduct.”
“Oh, my God. Are the cops involved?”
“No. The woman said she didn’t wanna take it that far, but Mr. Bowman’s deputy is looking into it.”
“Do you know what she’s accused him of?”
“Not exactly. Mr. Bowman didn’t say. I guess it must have been fairly bad, though… or she wouldn’t have withdrawn from the exhibition, would she?”
“No.” I shuddered then, and Pierce put his arm around me. “To think… that could have been me.”
“I know, but it wasn’t. You got out in time.”
“You got me out in time,” I said, looking up and kissing him. “If it hadn’t been for you…” I let my voice fade, trying not to think of what might have happened if Pierce hadn’t been there.
He must have read my mind, because he leaned in even closer, and whispered, “You’re safe, babe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I know.”
“It explains why he’s been here so much,” Pierce said. “We don’t normally see him around the town, but he’s been here a lot more, hasn’t he?”
“Yeah. I asked him about that, but he told me he’d been in meetings, and that his dad had insisted he should take some time off, because he’d been working really hard.”
“Which just goes to show, you can’t believe a word the guy says.”
“It seems not.”
We finished our meal and Pierce cleared away, coming back from the kitchen with two cups of coffee.
“Mr. Bowman needs me to let him have six paintings by tomorrow,” he said, sitting down again.
“What for?”
“They’re going to run a social media campaign, and they need to photograph them.”
“Can’t you take the photographs and send him the images?”
He shook his head. “They want to take the pictures themselves. It’s something they do all the time, evidently, and they have a certain style and format they like to follow.”
“I see. In that case, shall we take our coffee up to the studio? I could help you choose the paintings, if you like?”
“Would you?”
“Of course. I wanna help, if I can.”
He smiled, taking my hand, and pulled me from my seat. “I’m sure you can, even if it’s only by keeping me sane.”
“And fed?”
He smiled “And loved.”
“You’re always loved,” I said, and he kissed me, both of us grabbing our coffees and going up the stairs. When we got to the top, he pulled me back, looking into my eyes.
“I can do this, can’t I? I mean… I’m not kidding myself.”
I smiled at him. “Of course you can do this. With your eyes closed.”
That was an uncharacteristic moment of self-doubt, but it was short-lived, and once Pierce had recovered, we spent an hour searching through his canvasses, finding six that we thought worked well, and setting them aside. It was fun, and I enjoyed it. I think Pierce did, too, and when we were done, he hugged me.
“Thanks for that,” he said.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do,” he said, and then lifted me in his arms and carried me down the stairs, and straight into his bedroom.
It felt as though we had a lot to celebrate, and we took our time doing so, although later, when we were lying together, still a little breathless, I think we both found it hard to believe what had happened.
I still felt that way when I woke the next morning, but there were things to do. I had to get ready for work, and so did Pierce… although he also had to get the canvasses over to the gallery. We’d deliberately chosen ones that weren’t too large, so he could transport them in my car, and he went over there at lunchtime on Wednesday. It meant we couldn’t have lunch together, but that evening, he told me he’d met a woman called Abigail, who was going to be in charge of his exhibition.
“She’ll be overseeing everything, from the advertising to the posters and programs… and the web pages they’ll be putting together as well.”
“Did she like the paintings?” I asked, as I sliced a pepper.
“Yes. She thought they were just right. Exactly what they were looking for, evidently.” He came up behind me, kissing my neck. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”
“It looks that way,” I said, turning in his arms, so he could kiss my lips, and then I got on with preparing the dinner.
Abigail called yesterday to tell him the posts would go up on the gallery’s social media page this morning, and Pierce told me over lunch at the coffee bar.
“I feel like it’s all happening so quickly,” he said. “They’ve built a web page already, and the posts are going to link to that.”
“Okay. And they go live tomorrow?”
“Yes. It’s crazy, isn’t it?” I nodded my head, and he reached over, taking my hand in his. “You are still okay with this, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“Mr. Bowman wanted more paintings, and you haven’t had time to breathe so far, let alone paint.”
“I know. I was thinking that earlier.”
I could hear the panic in his voice, and realized I hadn’t helped the situation. “You’ve still got time,” I said, and he nodded.
“I know.” He raised my hand to his lips, kissing the palm as he smiled at me. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.”
“And will you still love me if this all goes wrong?”
“You know I will. I loved you before you became a rich and famous, in-demand artist.”
“I’m not rich and famous.”
“Not yet… but you are in-demand.”
“It feels that way,” he said, shaking his head, and I had to smile, because despite his worries, I could tell he was enjoying himself.
Today has been even more enjoyable… although it’s also been a little scary. That’s because the posts went live at around seven, and I’ve been checking on them ever since. I know I should be working, and like most Fridays, today is really busy, but I can’t help looking at my phone every so often… and whenever I do, it just gets more and more crazy. The ‘likes’ are off the scale, and as for the comments…
It’s clear people are gonna be attending the exhibition in their droves, and although most of them have never seen Pierce’s work in the flesh, they can’t seem to praise it highly enough.
I’ve messaged him about ten times now, although I don’t know why. He’s clearly keeping a close eye on the posts too, and by lunchtime, the scale of the response is just unbelievable.
We’ve arranged to meet outside the coffee shop, but I’ve already been here for nearly ten minutes, and there’s no sign of him. I wonder if I should pick us up some sandwiches. We can always have lunch in the apartment. Or maybe I should text him to see if he’s okay and what he wants to do. I pull out my phone, just as I see him come out of the store. He seems to be on the phone, talking to someone and smiling, as he locks the door, checking for traffic before he crosses the street.
“I’ve never done anything like that before,” he’s saying, as he comes up to me, puts his arm around my waist and kisses me on the lips. I smile up at him, and he rolls his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh, still listening to whoever it is on the phone, although his eyes are fixed on mine. “Okay. I can be there by around ten-thirty. Is that okay?” He listens again, and then says. “Fine. I’ll see you then.”
He ends the call, lowering his phone.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says, kissing me again and leading me into the coffee shop. It’s busy, but we find a table near the back, and Pierce holds my chair while I sit, then takes a seat opposite.
“Who was on the phone?” I ask.
“Abigail.”
“What did she want?”
At that moment Everly appears beside us, looking to take our order, and although we haven’t checked the menu yet, we both know it fairly well.
“I’ll take the… um… the prosciutto and brie panini,” I say, smiling up at her as she turns her attention to Pierce.
“That sounds good. I’ll have the same.” He looks at me. “Sparkling water?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay,” Everly says. “Won’t be long.”
She clearly knows we’re on the clock, like a lot of people who come in here at lunchtime, and she dashes away, leaving us alone again.
“Where were we?” Pierce asks.
“I was asking what Abigail wanted.”
“Oh, yeah.” He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “She asked me to go into the gallery on Sunday.”
“Really? What for?”
“She says they want to have some photographs taken.”
I can’t help smiling. “Of you?”
“Yeah,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s annoying, because I’d hoped to get some work done, but they’ve booked a professional photographer, and they’re gonna create a small display of the paintings I took in there they other day, as a kind of backdrop…” He lets his voice fade, sounding a little overwhelmed.
“They’re taking this seriously, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. It’s evidently the best response they’ve ever had to an exhibition launch, and they wanna make the most of it.”
“That’s understandable.”
“I know. But…”
“But what?”
“Can you come with me?”
“On Sunday?”
“Yeah.”
I lean back slightly, surprised by his request.
“You want me to?”
“Yes. And not just because Sundays are the only chance we get to be together. I—I’ve never been in this situation before, Harley. It’s kinda scary.”
“You’re feeling out of your depth?” I ask, guessing at what this might be like for him.
“Totally.”
“Well… I’ve never been in this situation either, but there’s no way I’m gonna let you drown all by yourself. Not when we can drown together.”
He smiles, squeezing my hand. “I’d never let you drown, babe.”
I lean over, and he meets me halfway in a brief kiss before we both sit back down, just as Everly brings our water.
“Heaven knows when I’m gonna get any work done,” Pierce says, taking a sip from his glass.
“I could probably help in the store tomorrow, at least for some of the time. I’ve gotta…” I stop talking, realizing I can’t do any such thing, and that in reality, I won’t even be here.
“What’s wrong?” Pierce asks, leaning closer, although I can’t speak for a moment. I’ve just remembered my parents are coming home tomorrow afternoon… and that their return changes everything. I’ll have to go back to the house, not just to check up on it, but to be there when they arrive. They’ll expect that… and have every right to. And, of course, they know nothing about the situation with me and Pierce. I’ll have to tell them. But how will I explain I’ve practically moved out? And how will they take it? Should I move back there and break it to them in stages? Would that make it easier for them to accept? “Harley?” Pierce says, breaking into my nightmare and I focus on him, despite the tears blurring my eyes. “Hey… babe. What’s the matter?”
“I have to leave.”
“Sorry?” He glances around. “Are you sick or something? Do you want me to get our food to go?”
“No, no. I don’t mean that. What I mean is, I have to leave you and go home. I can’t stay with you anymore.”
He pales, blinking hard, and shakes his head. “What the … I mean, what are you talking about? You can’t leave me.”
“I have to.”
“Why? What have I done?” There’s genuine fear in his eyes and he reaches out for my other hand, holding them both. “Is this because I’m having to do all this extra work for the exhibition? Am I neglecting you? Because if I am, I’ll…”
“It’s not that. It’s nothing to do with that, and you’re not neglecting me at all. Far from it.”
“Then why?”
“Because I’ve just remembered my parents are coming home tomorrow.”
“So?” He shrugs his shoulders, like he’d known all along. “That just means you won’t be able to work in the store, and I won’t be able to catch up with my painting this weekend, but…”
“It means more than that, Pierce. I’ll have to go back there.”
“Sure… to check on the house, maybe tidy up a little, and be there when they get home. But you don’t need to stay.”
“They don’t know about us,” I say, letting my fingers entwine with his, hating the thought of being apart. “They don’t know I’m practically living with you.”
“Practically?”
“Okay… I’m living with you. But they still don’t know about it.”
“I know they don’t, but we can tell them. You don’t have to leave me to do that.”
“But what if… what if they hate the idea of us being together, and decide they don’t want you to work for them anymore? You’d be unemployed, and you’d have nowhere to live.”
“Do you think it’s likely your parents are gonna react like that?”
“No, but… don’t you think we should maybe take things in stages? We could let them get used to the idea that we’re together and then wait a while before I move back in with you?”
“And hell could freeze over,” he says, shaking his head. “Your parents are gonna be okay with this. I know they are.”
Everly brings our food, putting it down in front of us. “Thanks,” I say, looking up, although Pierce just stares at me, and as though she’s sensed something isn’t quite right, she smiles kindly and leaves. We ignore the delicious smelling panini, and Pierce pulls my hands closer to him, sucking in a breath.
“I’ll take you to your parents’ place in the morning,” he says. “Then I’ll come back here to work, while you do whatever you need to do there. Once I’m finished here, I’ll drive over, and we can talk to your mom and dad together. We can tell them about us, and the accident, and the exhibition, and then I’ll bring you back home.”
It all makes perfect sense when he says it like that. “Are you sure it’ll be okay?” I ask, still harboring doubts.
“Your mom and dad just want you to be happy, Harley… and you are happy, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. I’ve never been happier. The thought of leaving you…” I stop talking, my voice cracking, and he raises my hands to his lips, kissing them one at a time.
“Then don’t think about it… and don’t do it, either.”
“Okay… as long as you’re sure.”
“I’m positive. We belong together.” I nod my head and he kisses my hands once more, staring into my eyes as he lets out a long sigh. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” he whispers. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He smiles and lets go of one of my hands so we can eat, although he doesn’t take his eyes from mine… not even for a second.
As the afternoon wears on, I realize Pierce was right. I overreacted. I panicked. Mom and Dad are gonna be fine. It might come as a surprise, but like he said, they just want me to be happy, and there’s no-one happier… except maybe Pierce.
The responses on the gallery’s social media page have blown up even more over the last couple of hours. I thought it was crazy this morning, and I guess a part of me half expected things to calm down after that initial flurry of interest, but if anything, it’s gone the other way. As I shut down my computer, I sneak a peek at my phone and smile when I see there are nearly three times the number of ‘likes’ compared to how many there were at lunchtime. The comments have more than doubled, too, and I can’t wait to see Pierce, to ask how he feels about it all.
He’s not waiting outside, but we didn’t arrange that he would be, and I walk down Main Street toward the store, still glancing at my phone. I’m so pleased for him. Okay, so it means a very different weekend for us. We won’t be able to have a lazy Sunday brunch at the coffee shop, or go for a long walk down by the creek, but at least we’ll be together for some of the time, and I’m glad he wants me to be a part of all this. I look up, stopping in my tracks when I see a small crowd of people outside the store, and then pick up my pace, running the last few yards. Has something happened? Is Pierce okay?
My heart is racing, my head spinning, when I reach the door, pushing my way through, and finally getting inside. There’s a crush of people in here, too, although none of them seems worried. They’re all chattering and smiling, and I try to relax. It can’t be something bad, can it? Not if they’re all so cheerful.
“What’s going on?” I ask, recognizing Mrs. Brennan, who turns and smiles at me.
“I’d have thought you’d know by now,” she says. “The two of you are such good friends, so I assumed you’d realize we’ve got a celebrity in our midst.”
I smile at the thought that Pierce and I are still thought of as ‘good friends’, although we’re so much more, and I nod my head. “You mean Pierce?”
“Of course,” she says. “It’s all over the town.”
“I didn’t think people would react like this,” I say, looking around.
“Oh, you know what folks are like.”
It seems not, but I smile at her and make my way through the crowd, nudging between people until I reach the back of the store.
Pierce is there, behind the counter, grateful for the protection it’s giving him, I think, as he fields questions about his paintings, the exhibition, and whether people can buy tickets from him.
“Are you gonna leave town now you’ve made the big time?” Mrs. Craig asks.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Pierce says, his eyes catching mine and filling with obvious relief.
I join him behind the counter, and he gives me a grateful smile.
It takes another forty-five minutes for the store to clear, and for Pierce to close the door, locking it, and leaning back against it.
“Man,” he says, shaking his head as he walks back toward me. “That was insane.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. They all just appeared. I’ve had three potential commissions, you know?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’ve told them I can’t work on anything new until after the exhibition starts, and they were fine with it.”
“That’s fantastic, Pierce,” I say, leaning in to him as he puts his arms around me.
“Oh… that’s not all.”
“Why? What else has happened?”
“Nate Newton came over earlier. He wants to do a piece on me for the Hart’s Creek Courier, and…”
“And?”
“You should look at my social media page.”
I pull out my phone. “Why?”
“Because this morning, I had just under four hundred followers…”
I find his page, scrolling down a little, and let out a gasp. “Three thousand, two hundred, and twelve?”
“It’s gone up since I last checked, but yeah… crazy, isn’t it?” He pulls me closer and I look up into his eyes.
“I’m so proud of you.”
“You are?”
“Yes.”
He bends his head, kissing me. “That means a lot, babe.”
He takes my hand, switching out the lights, and leads me up the stairs into the apartment, where he turns, placing his hands on my waist.
“I keep having to pinch myself,” he says, shaking his head, and gazing into my eyes.
“I’m not surprised. It’s all happened so fast, but you deserve it.”
“You’re talking about the exhibition, aren’t you?” he says, smiling.
“Of course. Why? What are you talking about?”
“You. Me. Us.”
“Why would you have to pinch yourself about that?”
“To remind myself how lucky I am that you’re here with me… that you’re mine.”
“Of course I’m yours.”
“And you’re willing to stick by me through all this… madness?” he says.
I lean in to him, resting my head on his chest. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
“Except in bed?” he asks, and I look up to see his eyes sparkling down at me.
“Now you’re talking…”