16. Daniel
16
DANIEL
I ’m nervous as I knock on Rosie’s door. I’m here to talk to Emily about New York, and I hope that when she opens the door she doesn’t slam it in my face and hears me out.
Slowly, the door opens, and Emily pokes her head out.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly.
“Hey.” She frowns at me.
This is going great. “You’re painting.” Noticing the paint on her clothes, I hope talking about that is enough to put her at ease.
“Yeah, I am,” she says sharply, looking me up and down suspiciously.
This isn’t going well at all. “Can I come in? I want to talk to you about something.” I can see how conflicted she is by my request.
“Yes,” she eventually answers. “Would you like a drink?” she asks as I enter the living room behind her.
“Water, please,” I answer as Emily moves about the kitchen. “How are you doing?” She shrugs in answer. “I see you’ve received Louis’ flowers.” Vases of sunflowers are throughout the room.
“Rosie seems to like them,” she says.
Does she? Emily hands me my glass of water and I nervously take a sip.
“Why are you here?” Emily asks, her annoyance coming out through her tone.
“I have an offer for you.”
I can see she is not interested before I even say anything. “No amount of money can make me go back there, Daniel.”
“That’s not what I’m here about.” Her brows arch in surprise. “Before everything happened, Louis asked if I’d contact the New York gallery to see if they would be interested in sharing the space they have for him with another artist.” She stares blankly at me. “The gallery said yes.”
“That’s all good, but this has nothing to do with me. I don’t work for Louis anymore,” she says.
“The artist is you, Emily. They said yes to showing your paintings.” Emily stills, and I can see she is processing what I said. “Louis sent me photos of the paintings you did while in Ibiza. He said he found an amazing new talent while on holiday and asked me if they were any good. I loved them. I said that I would represent them in a heartbeat. I honestly had no idea they were yours. He wanted to hear my real opinion. Which was that I needed you on my books.” Emily frowns at me. “Louis thinks you’re talented. No, extremely talented,” I add.
She shakes her head. “I’m no artist, Daniel.”
“Yes, you are. I want to represent you, Emily.”
She does not look convinced or happy about it. “You’re only saying this because of what happened. Is this some sort of hush money?” she asks, standing up abruptly and pacing the room. Hush money? “You’re both trying to absolve yourselves,” she yells at me.
I can see that I’ve upset her, and she wobbles on her feet as if she might faint. I rush to steady her, but as soon as my hands touch her, she pulls herself from me and moves away.
Shit.
“Emily, you have no idea how sorry I am about what happened to you.” She won’t look at me now. “Louis blames himself. He’s … he’s not doing so well. He wants to help.”
“That’s why he’s offering this?” Emily asks, her eyes narrowed on me suspiciously as tears fall down her cheeks.
“God, Emily, no. He knows you’re talented. He’s had this planned for ages. He was going to tell you after you got back from Paris.” I try to explain to her, except I watch as she wraps her arms around herself. “I think you’re talented, too,” I add. Emily looks up at me. “I’d love to see what you’ve been working on.” My eyes fall to where the paint splatter is on her outfit. “You don’t have to say yes to New York but think about it. We can make sure that you and Louis are never near each other if that’s what you want. Whatever makes you feel comfortable. But please, please, just think about it?”
She turns and goes to leave the room, but then indicates for me to follow, which I do as she shows me her makeshift studio.
Wow.
I step forward and touch one of the works, the bright red paint and long strokes across the canvas catching my attention. I can see her pain, her anger, and her fear in the paintings.
“Emily, these are …” I’m unable to talk because they are so beautifully broken and raw. My heart breaks knowing why they are so hauntingly good. “May I?” I ask, taking out my cell. She gives me a nod as I take a couple of photos of her work. “These are spectacular.” I run my hand over them as I notice one that isn’t as angry or violent. It’s an image of a couple embracing and making love with every twist and turn of the couple with their lovemaking on show. I stare at this painting because it could be Rosie and me and everything we’ve been through. “He’d love this,” I say, tapping the image. Louis needs to see this to remember that what they had together was beautiful before the devil came and destroyed it.
“Take it,” Emily says.
What? I turn and look at her. “You’re giving me this?”
She picks up the artwork and gives it to me. “Give it to him. If it helps him move on,” she says.
Fuck, this is going to devastate Louis. “He’ll love it,” I say, taking the canvas from her. “You’ll think about my request?”
“I don’t know.”
“The event is in less than a month. If you want to do this, I can help you. Anything you need, I can help,” I tell her.
“I’ll think about it.”
Guess that is all I can hope for. I’ve gotten further than I thought I would have by making it through the door. “Don’t be a stranger. No matter what your answer is, no matter your relationship with Louis, know we’re friends. Okay?”
“Thank you,” she says and then gives me a hug, surprising me as she starts to cry.
“Hey.” I stare down at her shaking in my arms. “Emily, are you okay?” She shakes her head, and I pull her closer. “Let it out. You’re safe now. Just let it out,” I whisper to her, and she does.