Chapter 66
Overall, the gallery doesn’t look bad, considering that not too long ago, the front was boarded up and most of my walls were defaced.
I was tempted to call Sophia, Dru, and Meela to come over and help me paint, but I knew they would have questions.
Questions I wasn’t ready to answer yet. Like what was happening with Stone?
I’d missed the last girls’ night since I was busy fucking Stone in his bed.
The subtle subtext of our last text messages are still fresh in my mind.
Sophia seems to be the most aware, and she would know, since she was sneaking around with my brother for months before anyone else knew, well before I did.
Seems I was the last to know. I smile thinking of my friends.
They would understand the chaos in my brain.
We’ve all had our share of man drama, but at the same time, I don’t want to talk about the fact that whatever this was with Stone is over.
I won’t be able to hide it since they are all coming to the opening tonight, and Sophia has all but promised she is going to find out what is keeping me locked up in my gallery.
Kingsley is the only one who knows that I’m fucking my brother’s friend. Was fucking, I correct.
I open my phone and bite my lip, and re-read our last text messages.
Sophia: Can’t wait to see you tonight. So excited for you!
Dru: Yeah! It’s date night for Silas and me. Carla is watching Bruce, and I can’t wait to see you, too. It feels like forever.
Meela: Yeah! You’ve been MIA, and I miss you.
Sophia: Dare I ask if you’ve been busy with a man?
Dru: Or she could have been busy getting her gallery together.
Sophia: Of course she was…but she’s not working on it 24/7. There’s still time in a whole day to get some dick. And I think I know who. But don’t worry, my lips are sealed.
Meela: What do you mean?
Dru: Ooop…
My fingers hover over the message to lie and tell them there is no man, but it’s not true.
There is a man, but that man who told me to essentially fuck off, and hasn’t contacted me in three days.
I’ve also heard zero noise from next door, and I didn’t drop in because I have my pride, dammit.
The day after the destruction of the front gallery windows, I returned and was shocked to see that a construction crew was already there, installing new windows and a new double door.
When I demanded to know who they were and who had ordered the new glass, complete with new gold leaf stenciling on the front windows, all they said was that it had been paid in full.
Stone.
The knowledge that he had the window and doors repaired eased some of the sharp edges when it came to Stone.
I didn’t even have his fucking phone number to call him and curse him out or thank him.
I wasn’t sure which I wanted to do more.
But all the space between us reminded me that I needed to focus and not get caught up in an obsessive, secretive asshole who fucks like no other.
The doors came with a high security lock and key code. They even let me choose the code. The locks were high-tech and, from what I could tell, expensive. The glass was apparently shatterproof. It eased some of my worries.
Sighing, I put my phone back in my pocket.
I leave Sophia’s subtext and hints alone.
I can’t deal with it right now. Tonight I’ll have to make sure she doesn’t bring it up.
Jace will be there too, and the last thing that I need is to deal with his knowing I am fucking his friend and tattoo artist every chance I get.
Again, I need to get my verbs in the correct tense.
Past tense, Camryn. Past. Fucking. Tense.
Either way, he will know if I don’t start keeping a better poker face.
I slipped an invitation under the door of his tattoo shop, hoping that Riggs and Onyx would find it.
You also wanted him to find it, too, a sneaky voice echoes in my mind.
A part of me is still pissed at him, but another part wants him to see what I’ve done.
My accomplishment. I don’t know if they will come with everything that happened with their shop.
The last invite was the hardest to send out, but I did it.
I sent one to my father, hoping he would show up and see that I’ve done it.
That my gallery is open and it looks as amazing as some of the best in NYC makes me feel triumphant.
“Where do you want us to set up the tables?”
Turning, I spot Jacinda and Kami. I met Kami a while back at Laraline’s spicy book club, and then I found out recently that she’s also friends with Jacinda, as they attend the same Pilates class.
She’s also Sloane Alexander’s babysitter for his son, Scott.
I liked her immediately; her sweet nature and infectious laugh are awesome to be around.
Not to mention she’s in school to become an elementary school teacher.
She’s going to be perfect at it once she graduates.
“Um. Let’s put the cocktail tables up first. The caterer is coming with the rest of the food and I know they have tables with them.”
“I cannot wait. Your soon-to-be sister-in-law is catering my art show. The wait list for Piattino is like months in advance, and she’s going to cater my show!
” Jacinda does a little jig, and I smile, liking that she’s happy.
She took a chance on me to display her art, and I want to make her proud.
Over the last months of planning, preparing, and tonight it will happen.
I invited hundreds of people. Some never responded, but through social media, I got some great feedback.
There are even a few well-known art buyers coming, and fingers crossed, Jacinda gets some buyers.
There are at least three of her installations that I would love to own, but my small apartment has zero room.
I glance around the table, take all her pieces, highlighted to perfection. They look spectacular in the space. Ready to be put on display, ready to put herself out there.
“Everything looks so good, Cam. Like seriously professional. I don’t even know what to say.” She tears up and hugs me. I return her hug before pulling away.
“You did all the work. I was just here to help make sure people saw it.”
“But hundreds of people are coming. This is some fancy shit. Like I was okay just showing it on my socials, but this.” Jacinda waves her hand around, biting her lower lip.
“And you deserve everyone one of those hundred people. Your work is incredible. Everyone is going to love it.”
Kami hugs her. “Cam’s right, Cind. I’ve been telling you for over a year now that your art is amazing. It’s your time to shine.”
“Thanks, Kami, and don’t remind me about all the people coming, Cam! The people I follow that I never thought I’d meet will be looking at my work. I think I may shit myself.”
She looks so nervous; I don’t tell her that it won’t just be bloggers and followers, but also art magazines and critics.
If I tell her that one of the most premier art critics in the northeast will be here too, she just might pass out.
When I contacted Alejandra Munoz and told her I was Camryn Park, she was taken aback.
“The Park Heiress? Now this is a surprise. What does a billionaire want with me?”
I ignored her dig. I liked that she has never been in awe of my father’s money. “I want you to see an artist I’m showcasing in my new gallery.”
“Hmmm. New gallery, huh? Interesting. Why me?”
I didn’t beat around the bush. “Because you’re the best art critic and dealer on the East Coast. You know talent. You’ve helped so many artists get their work into hands of the right collectors and she’s good. Really fucking good.”
“Just who is this really fucking great artist?”
From the way she said it, I could sense her excitement, her intrigue.
We spent some time talking about Jacinda, and I asked her if she could take some time out of her schedule to see her.
She told me she would have to do some research on Cinda’s socials first, and we ended the call.
Not thirty minutes later, she was calling me back with a “I’m there. ” Sometimes it pays to be a Park.
“By the way, please tell whoever painted that mural by the entrance is next for a showcase. Julian said he’s a big scary dude that looks at you like he wants to eat you.”
He’s definitely eaten me. Eaten my pussy and my ass. Nope. No time to think about sex right now. “Doubtful.”
The artist in question is a man with secrets.
A man who finger fucked me right after I got a tattoo, ate me to high heaven, and took care of me when I had my terrible menstrual cramps.
I like Jacinda, and we were growing our friendship, but it’s a little much to tell her about my sex life right now.
I haven’t even told the girls yet. Too much has been going on with Dru having baby Bruce, Sophia having Valentina, Lara and Sloane doing what they are doing, and of course, Meela just getting engaged and moving in with Tatum.
They are building their home about 20 minutes south of Jace’s lake house.
“Why don’t you two go get some champagne?
There are a few bottles in the back in ice buckets that the bartender set up earlier.
There should also be some glasses there.
Xio won’t miss one bottle. We need to celebrate, and a little champagne might settle your nerves.
” Xiomara Reyes, my bartender for the night, is also on loan from Sophia.
She works at Piattino with Sophia and Jace as a bartender and sommelier.
When I approached her yesterday, she came up with some amazing cocktails themed to complement Jacinda’s art, and I can’t wait to taste them all once the night is almost over.
It would be nice to have a drink and ease some of my own tension about the show and the man I keep thinking about.
“But its 9 a.m Kami points out, and I’m not 21 yet.”
Jacinda smiles. “Live a little. A few sips will be okay. We aren’t going to tell anyone, right, Cam?” She winks at me, and I smile.
Kami grins conspiratorially. “Fine, but just a small sip. My mom would kill me if she found out.”
“Just like she’ll kill you if she finds out you read the smuttiest of smut at Lara’s book club,” Jacinda responds by pulling her away as they head to the back room, where I left the champagne chilling.
Moving back around to the space, I check if all the tags are correctly labeled for each piece. Jacinda’s bio poster is set up nicely, ready for people to read about her life and her style.
Mujeres de lágrimas y llamas by Jacinda Cortez-Brown
It’s perfect. The name aptly reflects the collection’s focus.
Each piece speaks to her Chicano roots. Her early years with her mother and grandmother, in East LA.
Her mother was shunned for being with a black man by some of her family, but the black community embraced her and her twins.
When she was 10, her mother left LA and moved to her father’s side of the country, settling in Brooklyn.
Her Chicana mother and her black father from Brooklyn.
Her art reflects that dynamic mix of New York and LA culture.
Bold colors and textures, exaggerated body features, some graffiti art mixed with her Mexican culture, and her American upbringing.
She calls it Día de los Muertos, combined with a heavy dose of Frida Kahlo.
A crash I hear at the back interrupts my thoughts, making me spin around. I frown. Shit. It sounds like they dropped champagne. Xio is going to kill me.
“Jacinda? Kami? You guys okay? Are you two drinking without me? They don’t respond, and I walk to the back. The silence feels strange. There’s no laughter. No movement. Are they in the bathroom?
When I walk to the back, I hear a faint fizzing, and look down, and there is a bottle of champagne on the floor, chugging out champagne on the floor. Three glasses are on the floor, broken. “What the fuck?”
I step over the mess and head closer to the back, where the back door keeps banging open and closed.
Something is wrong. I push through the door and see a black van with the doors open.
My mind can’t process that Jacinda’s body is being loaded inside.
“Hey!” I start to run toward them, but a large arm wraps around my throat.
I kick and scratch, fighting the heavy arm digging into my throat.
It’s cutting off my circulation. I kick backward with my heel, connecting with his shin, and he grunts, loosening his arm.
I’m able to get free for a second, but he manages to catch me again.
He curses. “Fucking whore! Don’t kick me again, or I’ll stick the needle in your damn neck.
” I freeze thinking about his threat. I feel the prick on my neck.
I have no idea what’s in the needle. I rev up my need to get free, I crane my neck away, and it works.
I hear the needle clatter on the ground, and his muttered curse is rough in my ear. “Bitch!”
Then my head explodes in pain, and everything disappears.