Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
A s the Saturday afternoon sun crept across Adrian’s office, she hugged Saskia and murmured for her ears only, “I’m so sorry. I know how much this hurts.”
Adrian hated the way Hugo had used her friend, all those years ago as well as now. He hadn’t revealed her identity out of magnanimity. He was simply trying to regain some of the value of his art. Especially the crap he’d painted since he’d torn Saskia’s world to bits.
But this was what Adrian had wanted for Saskia all along—to be public. To step out of her nighttime shadows and claim her name and her art.
Holding Saskia away from her, hands on her shoulders, she said for everyone to hear, “Are you okay?”
From the glow on Saskia’s face, Adrian could see she was fine. Better than fine. Amazing. Because of Clay.
Having arrived a few minutes before Saskia and Clay, who’d called for the meeting, Gareth Tate was already seated in a chair. “How the hell did Hugo Lewis even know San Holo was here in San Francisco?”
“The latest mural,” Clay said.
But Gareth shook his head. The man was gorgeous, his clothing impeccable, his body toned to a fine edge. Under other circumstances, Adrian might drool.
“I get that,” he said. “But how did he know Saskia was San Holo?”
Adrian took responsibility. “There was a photo of you two in the gossip columns.” She fluttered a hand at Clay and Saskia. “I tried to have it quashed. But not everyone took it down.”
Saskia gasped just as Adrian knew she would. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Adrian could have said that Saskia was so obsessed with Clay that she hadn’t answered Adrian’s texts or calls, especially since Hugo’s press conference.
But she couldn’t blame Saskia. After all, she was the agent.
She hired the publicists. “Honestly, I had no idea Hugo would put two and two together. That you were here. And so was San Holo. Ergo, you must be the same person.”
Clay came to her rescue. “It’s spilled milk. Let’s clean it up before it turns sour.”
Adrian pointed to the sofa. “Have a seat, and we’ll plan our strategy.”
Saskia and Clay sat together, hands linked, while Gareth dragged his chair to the opposite side of the coffee table. Rolling her desk chair closer, Adrian sat next to him. He smelled delicious.
With Gareth already briefed on Hugo’s machinations, Clay jumped in. “I intend to neutralize Lewis and get Saskia’s art back.”
The lawyer asked, “First of all—Saskia, why didn’t you go up against him before? Especially right after he claimed your name?”
Even as Saskia opened her mouth, Adrian stepped in, speaking mainly to her friend.
“When Hugo stole your art and you had to start over, your name wasn’t as well known in the art world.
You were good, and you were growing, but you weren’t quite there yet.
” She turned to Gareth. “Neither of us thought we could win if we went up against Hugo.”
Saskia held tight to Clay’s hand. “I have to admit I felt beaten. I didn’t want anything more to do with him, especially not a long legal fight.”
Gareth nodded briefly. Clay put his arm around Saskia’s shoulders, giving her comfort. But her friend had her own strength now.
Adrian looked at Saskia. “As San Holo, you have a lot more clout than you did five years ago.” She took a deep breath, hoping Saskia was ready to hear this. “If you embrace that he outed you, you could come out publicly and say that his art prior to five years ago is yours.”
Saskia swallowed hard, as if it hurt.
Clay stared Adrian down. “He’ll just call Saskia a liar.”
Gareth stepped in. “We have to look at the legal ramifications of taking him on that way. Hugo could sue her for defamation.”
But Adrian was already shaking her head. “It’s not defamation if it’s true.”
Clay leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “But how do we prove it?”
Adrian felt like doing a happy dance. Her idea was brilliant. “The fleur-de-lis.”
They all looked at Saskia. Clay asked, “Were you hiding the fleur-de-lis in your work even then?”
Saskia had signed Lynx on every mural and canvas. Just as she put a small SH on her San Holo work once that name became known. Those initials and the fleur-de-lis were hidden in the artwork itself, which made it a great boon for anyone finding them.
Adrian smiled at Saskia. “Why don’t you tell them, friend?”
“In addition to signing Lynx on each piece, I also hid a small lynx somewhere, like I do now with the fleur-de-lis. The Eurasian lynx had become extinct in England, and they were talking about reintroducing it. I felt it was a fitting image.”
Adrian detected the gleam in Clay’s gaze. More than admiration for Saskia’s intelligence and her art, it was pure love.
For a moment, Adrian ached for what she didn’t have. But she couldn’t think about that now. Especially not with handsome Gareth Tate sitting next to her.
Clay said, “Hugo doesn’t know about the lynx?”
Saskia shook her head, her smile growing. “I never told anyone.” She turned that smile on Adrian. “Except my best friend.”
Adrian grinned. “Who was forever sworn to secrecy.”
“With San Holo, I used the fleur-de-lis as a gimmick, hiding it along with my initials, but letting people know it was there somewhere. It got them to really look at each piece.”
Clay gazed at the woman Adrian was absolutely sure he loved. “Smart move. Can you remember where the lynxes are in the existing murals and canvases that he claimed from you?”
Saskia rolled her eyes. “Of course.”
Adrian could almost see the elation jumping out of Clay. “Then we’ll challenge him. If he were the true artist, he’d be able to find them all. When he can’t, you’ll show that you can. Which makes you the artist and not him.”
Gareth got into the scheme too. “He probably thinks she was using the fleur-de-lis even then. He’ll search the art for that and never even see the lynx.”
Adrian had to agree. “That would be just like him,” she said, a snide note in her tone. “He always did take the easy route. He’s too cocky by far.” She speared her best friend with a look. “And he never valued your ingenuity.”
Clay sat back, a half-smile crooking his mouth. “Then that’s the plan.”
Adrian had to say it. “It means you can’t hide anymore.”
After a quick breath, Saskia said, “I know.”
Clay drew her in, his fingers caressing her cheek. “We’ll only do it this way if you’re totally okay with it. I’m one hundred percent behind whatever you decide.”
Adrian almost loved him herself for giving Saskia that option.
But her friend didn’t back away. “Challenging Hugo forces me to speak out instead of letting him speak for me.” This time when she swallowed, it didn’t seem hard at all.
“I’ve been hiding for five years, all because of Hugo and my parents.
” She sat straighter against the love of her life.
“I’m not going to hide anymore.” She put her hand on Clay’s arm.
“I’m going to walk the walk.” To Gareth, she added, “I told you and Dylan that you both need to accept criticism. Not only survive it, but also learn from it if there’s anything valid.
I need to let people throw it all at me too.
Being anonymous, I could ignore reviews because nobody ever said anything to my face.
” She took a deep breath that seemed to fill her with confidence as much as Clay’s arm around her did.
“I will own my art in front of everyone.”
Clay kissed her soundly. Adrian wanted to clap. Gareth actually did.
Then Adrian had to be the bearer of potentially bad news. “There is a downside. If you come out of seclusion, you have to be prepared for the possibility your art might drop in value. Or even become worthless.”
Clay started to speak, but Saskia stopped him. “Go on,” she said.
“A big part of what people pay for is the allure of your anonymity.” With their eyes on her, Adrian pursed her lips.
Thought for a moment. “Even as I’m saying that, I’m realizing you’re not anonymous right now because Hugo has already outed you.
I know it’s only been a day, but your work’s value hasn’t dropped at all.
Honestly, I don’t think you’ve needed to be anonymous for a long time.
Your name is big. You keep on producing.
You’re not like Hugo, who stole someone else’s art only to find his own couldn’t live up to what he’d claimed.
You’re one of the best in the world, and it’s long past time for you to claim your crown. ”
Once again, Clay kissed Saskia as Gareth applauded. Adrian smiled. “Do what you love, and the money will come.”
Clay’s eyes glowed. “Everything could explode for you. Especially when we prove that all of Hugo’s art is derivative of yours.”
Adrian couldn’t help adding, “Since the initial buzz, I have to say the women of the art world are cheering you on. They’re starting up a whole debate about how unfair it is that they have to hide behind male pseudonyms.” She laughed.
“Then there are the misogynistic art critics having a cow that the artist they’ve been praising all these years is actually a woman.
So yeah, I take back what I said. This will make you even more valuable. ”
Gareth chuckled. “The battle of the sexes.”
She wanted to cheer him for that.
But because he was a lawyer, he had to say, “Since all the art you painted as Lynx was purchased legitimately, with Hugo acting as your agent, it might not be possible to reclaim those canvases.”
Saskia shook her head. “I don’t want them back. Those people paid for them. I just want everyone to know I painted them, not Hugo.”
“It could turn out to be just like Taylor Swift,” Clay said.
Saskia looked at him while Adrian knew exactly what he referred to.
She let him explain. “After she got big, she wanted to buy back the master recordings for her first albums, but the label wouldn’t sell them to her.
Taking advantage of a loophole in her contract, she rerecorded all those songs and albums and put them out herself.
Those rerecordings are even bigger than the old ones.
Any old albums became virtually worthless. ”
Gareth nodded, a wry smile on his sexy lips. “The value of your work could skyrocket. The patrons who bought it will love you.”
Ooh, he was good. Very good. And handsome. And sexy. Adrian’s temperature shot up so fast she almost had to fan herself.
But she had to maintain decorum. “Since we’re all in agreement,” she said, “I’ll call a press conference.”
Clay looked at Saskia. “You okay with that?” When she nodded, even smiled, Clay jumped to his feet and punched the air. “We’re going to nail this creep.”
Adrian would have broken out a bottle of bubbly, but a knock rattled the door. Who the hell could that be on a Saturday?
Saskia, being closest, went to answer it. She stood stock still, holding the door open with a white-knuckled grip.
Then Adrian saw them. A nattily dressed couple somewhere in their early sixties, a purse hanging over the woman’s forearm as though she were Queen Elizabeth.
Saskia whispered in incredulity, or horror, “Mum? Dad?”
The bloodsucking vampires had arrived right on cue.