Chapter 6 #3
“I watched him work along the Seine.” Phoebe wandered over to one of the sketches. “I’ve watched someone I care about go through that torture despite being acclaimed. It’s a tough road.”
Brooke wondered if she was speaking of her father or someone else. A past lover?
She turned to face them again, the portrait light bright on her face.
“Some time ago, when my parents had hopes that I could be a genius painter like my father, I struggled in ways you cannot imagine. If I can help make that easier for someone who’s a good person—and Sawyer is, I can tell—then I’m happy to do it.
Especially if it means I also get to sell great art. ”
Brooke wanted to believe her. “Sawyer is the best. That’s why we’re here.”
“He’s lucky to have you.” Phoebe walked over and took a sip of her coffee. “As for going out with him, I would have wanted to even if he was something like a…taxidermist.”
Brooke sputtered out a laugh, and Dean said, “I can’t say I would go for that one.”
Phoebe only smiled. “I know you’re worried, but I’m really infatuated.
Sawyer is a wonderful mélange of humility, kindness, and handsomeness besides being really smart, funny, and interesting.
That’s really refreshing in this jaded world where there are a lot of men who are dogs and only interested in themselves and what life can give them. Present company excluded.”
“Thank you,” Dean said predictably.
“Tell us what you’d do to keep the personal and professional sides separate,” Kyle pressed.
“Very well.” She set her café aside. “Like I told him. On our date, I don’t plan to talk business once. There are plenty of other things we can talk about. Which I prefer because most people want to only talk about art with me once they find out who I am.”
Brooke got that. In her previous career in fashion journalism, she’d often wondered if fashion people could speak of anything else.
“Now that I know Sawyer can identify quotes, I might have a trivia night with him.” She rubbed her hands together in obvious delight.
“Who knows? The point is that there is Sawyer the artist and Sawyer the man. Maybe it’s because I grew up with the great River Kennison and Dad, but I know how to keep things separate in my head.
Because they are two people in many ways.
Also, famous creative types need to have people in their lives who let them express all the different parts of themselves, so they won’t get crushed by all the pressure and attention. ”
Brooke thought of Axel. He was a famed interior designer sought out by the rich and famous, but he was also the very private solitary man she loved.
She studied Phoebe, seeing the wisdom evident under her bold style.
Brooke realized they also had rather created a similar structure for Sawyer in some ways.
They barely knew him as the art professor who taught young minds and wrote scholarly articles while playing the tenure game—save his use of quotes and love of philosophers.
Who he was with them was the tortured artist with the dream as much as the unique, sensitive roommate they all loved.
They’d all been doing their part to provide a sacred space for him to become the man he wanted.
That Phoebe wanted to do the same moved her greatly.
When no one responded—Brooke knew they were still taking it in—Phoebe gestured philosophically. “That might sound strange, but it’s how I see it. You approach them differently. Because that’s what fame does. It creates a new persona that is and isn’t real.”
Brooke finally nodded. “You make some good points, and like Kyle said, you didn’t have to be nice to us. Also, you seem to understand Sawyer. It sounds like you even have something in common. We should let you get to bed. Thank you for showing us your gallery and for speaking with us.”
“It was my pleasure.” She took their coffee cups and juggled them into the other room like a Parisian server before returning with a bright smile.
“Come anytime. I’m usually awake until midnight.
We can make a habit of it. Art by Night has been successful in other cities. Maybe we’ll start a craze here.”
Kyle shook her hand, and Brooke sensed the act was a sign of approval. “I always loved it in New York. Thank you, Phoebe. We’ll probably be seeing you around.”
“Count on it,” she answered.
They all filed out onto the street. Phoebe gave them a final smile before leaving for the exterior door to her apartment. Brooke decided to take them in the opposite direction. She and Dean would be grabbing cabs home anyway since they weren’t staying at the house these days.
“Well…” Dean drew out when Phoebe was out of sight. “I think she’s pretty great.”
“Me too.” Kyle stopped on the street, the others following suit. “But Sawyer will have to keep things separate too. He has to make the best choice for starting his career. It helped hearing Phoebe’s perspective, though. I’m in long-game mode now.”
“Me too,” Brooke agreed. “I’m going to talk to Axel.”
“We need to get Sawyer an agent stat.” Madison tapped her boot on the street. “Phoebe can’t be Sawyer’s main sounding board in the art world, and while we’re smart, it’s not our world.”
“No, it’s not, and she’s very persuasive.” Brooke suddenly worried about Sawyer being influenced, but then again, she was inclined to worry. “We’re all tired. I’m going to order an Uber.”
“Me too,” Dean answered, kissing her and Madison on the cheek. “You guys head on home. We’ll see you in the morning.”
She once again watched Kyle and Madison walk off together. If she didn’t know better, she would say they were holding hands they walked so closely, talking quietly.
Dean lowered his phone after they ordered separate cars. “I know I’m the dreamer in the group.”
“No,” she joked.
“But Phoebe is more than a pretty face with a knowledge of philosophy.” Dean smiled in the golden glow of the streets. “Maybe it’s because I did my whole angel investor stuff, but I learned to trust my gut, and my gut’s telling me she brings something else to the Sawyer game.”
Maybe it was the reverent silence of the street and the magic of Paris at night, but suddenly she felt like he was confessing a secret. Possibly Phoebe’s. “I can’t wait to hear it.”
“She’s already protective of Doc. You heard what she said—”
“I did.” Brooke blew out a breath, wanting to get on board completely. “But that’s no guarantee of anything.”
Dean put his arm around her. “Brooke, there are never guarantees, but there are good indications. I like her for Doc. Personally and professionally.”
She gazed up at Dean’s face. “It’s early, but I think I do too.”
“I want him to have that perfect person.” Dean’s tone had a whimsical quality. “You and I both know what it feels like. It’s the best thing out there.”
“Yes, it is, which is why we have to make certain we’re right about her and support Sawyer as he goes on this roller coaster.”
Because that’s what best friends did, and Brooke always gave her all.