Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Sawyer still couldn’t believe he’d done it.
Told off his mom. Disowned his parents. God! He’d expected to bottom out into guilt after the high faded, but three days later as he dressed for Thea’s wedding, he was shocked to still feel awesome. Like he’d done the impossible in defeating the monster and reclaiming his manhood all the way.
He decided to go with a more dashing cravat since it was Thea’s wedding. Phoebe had asked him to send a photo when they’d spoken late last night. He eyed the clock. Would she be awake? It was eight her time. He texted to see if she was up and his FaceTime immediately began to ring.
Grinning, he sat back on his bed and hit the accept button. The sight of her sleepy face filling the screen made his heart swell. “God, you look so beautiful.”
She ran a hand through her tangled hair and winced. “I work hard for this visage. You don’t look too shabby yourself. I like the threads, Horatio. When I saw you in that suit for our first date, all I could think was hot. If I was there, I would so jump you.”
He chuckled, awestruck again by how his entire mood could go from about a five to a twenty just by seeing her. “If you were here, I’d let you. God, I can’t wait until you get home.”
“Me either.” She tucked her face against the pillow as she rolled onto her side, her red hair trailing down her shoulder. “Normally I would be having a crazy good time like usual, but I find myself feeling like something is missing.”
Was he going to make her say it?
Yeah, he thought with a grin. Yeah, he was.
“What’s that?”
“You.” She gave a blinding smile, making his heart dive off the proverbial cliff.
“I didn’t know love could be like this, you know.
My parents’ marriage was a nightmare. Later, when I was studying English at Oxford, I often found myself thinking all the descriptions of being in love were overdramatized for literary effect.
Why would we keep reading if love was only banal? I fear I was under a misassumption.”
“Then you owe me, like, literary karma? I’m so going to cash in.”
She gave a gusty laugh. “I’m happy to put out. Now… How are you feeling? Still victorious like Hercules after the twelve labors?”
He had confessed to feeling that way, hadn’t he?
God, he was using myth metaphors like he was Joseph Campbell.
Thank God she didn’t think he was a total geek.
“Pretty much. I wondered if I’d be hit with a blast of guilt.
Especially when I walked past a Chinese restaurant last night and they had a whole honor-your-ancestors altar with the candles lit, which we had at home.
But so far, I’m only hungry for dumplings or chow mein. ”
“I had the best dim sum the other night.” She made a hungry sound. “We’ll have to find our place in Paris.”
Another plan threading their lives together. Having a place. They still needed a favorite song. He wondered what it would be. She had a strange love for Nickelback he couldn’t completely get into, but then again, she thought he was a little nuts for adoring Nat King Cole. “Count on it.”
“What time is it?” She drew her phone closer and peered at it, giving him a close-up of her sleepy green eyes. “Shouldn’t you be heading to the wedding soon?”
“It’s at four, but yeah, we’re going to get together and hang.
Jean Luc didn’t want a bachelor party or anything.
You know what the French call it. Enterrement de vie de jeune garcon.
Literally the burial of the life of a boy.
He said he was no boy, and he was burying nothing. Thea didn’t have one either.”
“A bachelor party?” Phoebe joked. “I can’t see her wanting strippers.”
“Funny. She said she just wanted to hang out with all of us and Nanine, so that’s what we did last night. We ordered pizza, which Nanine tolerated, and then after she left, we played Drink and Divulge. Romantic style. Kyle and Madison drank a lot.”
“I’ll bet.” Her cute little yawn had him wanting to cuddle in bed with her and fall back asleep. “Are they still fighting their attraction?”
“Yes, but you should have seen them come to my rescue. They had the same gut feeling something was wrong and dashed out of the house together. They fit so well it’s crazy.
I’m trying to decide whether I want to do something to nudge them along.
Madison especially. But I remember not wanting anyone to bother me when I was struggling uphill with my boulder. ”
“Glad you’re over that, by the way,” she said softly.
“Me too. So what do you have planned for your last night in town?”
“Well, darling, there’s a party in the Hamptons. I feel I should tell you that your agent is hosting it.”
“Beverly? Oh, wow!”
She picked up the phone and sat up. “My father was invited, of course, but we ran into her at another party last night, and she made sure to invite me. That’s not a problem, is it? Sticking to my no-work rule and all.”
Was she being coy? He didn’t think so. Her hosting his art at her gallery was like a wrapped holiday gift under the tree, only they both knew what was inside. “I don’t see why it’s a problem, no.”
“Good. I promise not to monopolize Beverly and gush about how much I love you. We’ll keep it professional, I swear.”
Thank God, although at some point Beverly was going to learn about their personal relationship.
He needed to talk to Brooke and Axel about navigating that one since they had some experience with such things.
Then he and Phoebe would discuss it too.
“You really missed your calling on the stage. I know you won’t talk about personal stuff. ”
“You’re so na?ve about the art world sometimes, Horatio. Beverly adores personal stuff. You should see her fluttering around my father like a butterfly, hoping this once he will open his petals to her.”
“Ugh! Phoebe, I didn’t need to know that.”
“She’s wanted him both as a client and a lover since forever.
I told you art is incestuous, Horatio. Another reason you need me.
I’m like your Madison for the art world.
Cynical. Suspicious. Street smart. I’ve always gotten hit on by young artists who want me to show their work, but it’s gotten so much worse on this trip now that I have the gallery in Paris. ”
“You’re kidding!” Okay, he was shocked. “Do you mean—”
“That they’re willing to worship this gorgeous body with their every ounce of manhood to get a show? Yep. Or have me pose for them, of course, because my beauty knows no bounds? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had an artist tell me I’m his new muse.”
He gulped. “Ah…about that. I know I mentioned this before, but you have inspired most of my new paintings. In fact, you’re in all of them, although it’s not completely obvious it’s you since I paint Impressionistic.”
Her burst of laughter calmed his sudden anxiety. “You did tell me, which I appreciate. Of course I’ve inspired you. Horatio, you’re in love with me.”
Falling back against the bed, he held the phone out with his hand. “I’m glad you’re not upset by any of it. Because after hearing that—”
“Upset? Don’t be silly. You’re nothing like these jerks. Besides, you paint your best when you paint what you love, and you really love me. Your paintings must be masterpieces!”
He was laughing now. “With you in them, of course they are!”
“But it’s not only me. Did you not break out when you painted Nanine and your female roommates?
I know we’ve never talked about this because of our agreement, but that’s why I believe you caused such a stir with the Le Monde article.
Your heart was in every brushstroke. Now that I know you and that heart, I know how powerful it is.
I can’t wait to see how you painted me. Are you sure you haven’t done a nude on the sly? ”
He should have known she’d circle back to a topic this juicy. “You know I haven’t. When I do, I’ll ask you. A nude is pretty personal.”
“I will have to pose for it, you know.” She playfully ruffled the sheet. “I can’t have you painting my breasts wrong. I’ve always wondered how the real woman in édouard Manet's Olympia felt about his depiction. A girl thinks about these things.”
Did all women? He had no idea, but he knew he loved that she did. “This is yet another reason why I love you. Okay, I need to go before all this nude talk gets me hot.”
“I’m already there,” she purred.
“Stop.” He was laughing and a little hot too. “You have fun tonight, and I’ll see you tomorrow. I am planning on picking you up—”
“No! Sawyer, that’s crazy. I’ll call you after I shower and change, and then we’ll feast. In more ways than food… Stay home for me. I usually look like a rag doll after a transatlantic flight. This way, I’ll be all clean and glowing when we meet.”
He frowned. “All right, but only because of your rag doll argument. I want you to feel comfortable.”
“Have fun at Thea’s wedding.” She blew him a noisy kiss. “Tell everyone hello from me, especially the happy couple.”
“Will do.” He gave in and blew her a kiss too. “I love you. See you soon.”
“Love you too. Bye, Horatio.”
God, he couldn’t stop grinning when he got off the phone.
Even the walk from his bedroom to his studio to pick up Thea and Jean Luc’s gift didn’t raise his blood pressure.
He remembered the sweaty palms and the near-fainting he’d experienced the night he’d given Nanine her portrait.
He felt none of that as he held the wrapped painting he’d done of Thea and Jean Luc.
He’d captured them in a photo on one of their walks along the Seine, Thea leaning her head against his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her.
He’d painted it last week, praying it would dry in time, which it had, deciding he could give them no better gift.
Of course, he was going to ask them about loaning it to him for his first show, but he didn’t think that would be a problem.