Chapter Twenty-Three
Jesse
The next morning, I decided to recruit help. I stopped by the hardware store and found Lucy behind the counter.
“How would you feel if I asked you to help me with my project, just for today?” I named a sum that made her eyes widen.
“Sure. But what about the store?”
“We can keep it closed for one day.”
Lucy grabbed a power sander from the back, and we headed to my truck together. I got behind the wheel and drove to Staten Island. My old truck didn’t have any modern amenities like wireless internet or a modern sound system. When I told Lucy she could pick whatever CD she wanted, she stared at me.
“A CD? My grandpa has some of those.”
“Very nice,” I said dryly. “These were my dad’s. There’s one from Santana, Boney M, Bob Dylan…”
“Never heard of any of those names.”
I smiled, chagrinned. “Don’t worry, we have radio. You have heard of that, haven’t you?”
She giggled. “In a history book.”
“Smartass.”
When we finally arrived at Ben’s house, Lucy’s eyes widened as she stared at the mansion.
“This place is huge.” She shaded her eyes from the sun.
“I know. I almost finished the downstairs yesterday.”
I fished the keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door, ushering Lucy inside.
“Can I take a look around?” she asked.
“Sure. There’s water and food in the fridge. Don’t be shy, whenever you need a break, go and get something to eat or drink. Do stay away from the champagne though.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t like alcohol, Mom, so don’t worry about that.”
Grinning, I turned up the AC, prepared the tools, and carried them upstairs. With Lucy here, I wanted to tackle the three bedrooms.
I’d just shoved my hair under my cap, when my phone rang. It was Malcom.
I bit my lip. It was weird, but in this empty house I felt isolated from my ordinary life. It was an escape from everything that had happened only a couple of days ago. Malcom’s call had my two worlds colliding.
I swiped to answer. “Hi, Malcom.”
“Jesse, hi. I’m calling about the money from the sale of your paintings.
We’ve collected almost all of it.” His voice was pleasant as ever.
“And there’s something else… listen, I want you to know this.
Sebastian never asked me to offer you an exhibit.
All he did was email me about this artist that he knew. ”
“I don’t want to know whatever Sebastian said to you.”
“But you do need to know. I’ll forward you that email.”
“Don’t bother, Malcom. It doesn’t matter now. I just want to put all of this behind me.”
“That’s your decision, but you should have all the facts before you make that choice, Jesse.”
I pressed my fist to my mouth, noticing Lucy standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching me with a worried frown.
I had to pull it together. “Thanks for everything, Malcom. It was a pleasure working with you.”
“Same here. And I do hope we’ll do so again.”
Fat chance of that.
“Everything okay?” Lucy asked as I ended the call.
“Sure.” I forced cheerfulness into my voice. “Let’s get to work.”
Lucy turned out to be amazing, and even more of a perfectionist than I was. By afternoon, we had made more progress than I believed was possible.
As we took a late lunch break, I noticed an email from Malcom. Against my better judgment, I opened it.
He’d forwarded me Sebastian’s email, which was dated the day after Sue’s wedding. Before Sebastian and I had even kissed for the first time.
Hey Malcom,
It’s been a while. How are you doing, man? I saw that you’re looking for contemporary artists to showcase in the Narcissus Gallery, and I wanted to ask if you’ve invited Jesse Nielsen yet. I don’t know if you know her work, but it’s frigging amazing.
I’ll leave you her website here. I’ve no doubt you’ll love her work as much as I do. Just wasn’t sure you were aware we had such a talented contemporary artist around here. Anyway, let me know what you think.
Say hi to Nicole and Rick for me.
Cheers,
Sebastian Wright
I leaned back against a paint can, stunned. The email wasn’t sleazy at all. No favors asked. No mention of knowing me personally. Nothing like, ‘Hey man, can you do me a favor for this chick I’m nailing?’
Had I overreacted? Was I a big stupid jerk? Because I sure as hell felt like one.
I managed to set my personal thoughts aside as Lucy and I worked side by side.
After an exhausting twelve-hour work day, we finished sanding and priming all the walls—a victory I hadn’t even dreamed about.
I could actually start painting tomorrow, and the girl had earned a day’s double pay. She was the Witch of the Walls.
It was close to 9 p.m. when I dragged myself up the stairs to my apartment.
I was an emotional mess. I had pushed myself too hard, and Malcom’s email had twisted my heart.
I could manage well enough if a guy I dated was a scumbag.
I functioned on rage and adrenaline, and never gave the guy a second thought.
Not a nice one anyway. Hating someone was easy.
But I’d never been in the position of questioning myself for dumping a good guy.
And right now, it seemed as if I was in the wrong here.
The more I thought about it, the more I felt that my behavior toward Sebastian was inexcusable.
He’d only wanted to help, selflessly. That’s why he’d kept it a secret.
I walked along the hallway like an octogenarian, when I heard someone climbing the stairs with the ease of a mountain goat. I threw a resentful look over my shoulder, perking up when I saw it was Lily.
“Hey, young stuff,” I grinned. “Were you out?”
Lily beamed at me. “I went over to the grocery store around the corner. I was out of shower gel. Are you just getting home from work?”
“Yeah.” I fished for my keys clumsily. “Want to come in for a nightcap?”
She chuckled. “Diet Coke?”
“I was thinking fruit juice. It’s too late for Coke.”
Inside my apartment, I heaved the bag off my shoulder and dropped it next to the door. Then I kicked off my shoes.
“Sorry if I smell of sweat,” I said. “No amount of deodorant works well enough on a job like this one.”
Lily waved me off. “Go and have a shower, relax a bit. I’m happy to wait. I might actually watch some TV.”
My eyes widened in shock. “Watch TV like an ordinary person? I knew you were going to need one sooner or later.”
Lily wandered off to inspect the fridge, while I padded to the bathroom. I switched on the water, took off my dusty clothes, and then stepped under the hot jet. I turned my face up, letting the warm water wash away the grime of the day.
As tired as I was, I was happy Lily was here.
She never made me feel overwhelmed. I loved all of my friends equally, but I had a special bond with Lily.
She understood me and she was a lot like me.
We could sit together in silence for hours, not needing to fill the quiet with chatter. She was the sister I’d never had.
I scrubbed thoroughly and shampooed, then toweled off and let my hair dry on its own. When I came out of the bathroom, I felt invigorated. I found Lily on the couch, watching Friends. She’d brought out two bottles of apple juice and had poured them into glasses.
“Ooh, juice in wine glasses. Fancy.” I plopped down on the couch next to her.
She turned her hazel eyes on me. “You look much better. How do you feel?”
“Better. I’ll be fresh by tomorrow. So, what have you been up to?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary. My patients keep me busy.”
“You never talk about them. I’ll bet you have some really interesting stories.” I reached for the apple juice and downed half the glass in a couple of gulps. It was cold, fragrant, and went straight to my soul.
“I’m not supposed to talk about them,” Lily said. “How would you feel if you confided in someone, and they blabbed your secrets?”
“I don’t have any secrets.”
“Everybody has secrets.” Lily smiled enigmatically. “How’s Sebastian?”
I huffed out a breath. If anyone could lend me an unbiased, non-judgmental ear, it was Lily. She was the perfect sounding board, and she never offered unsolicited advice. Sometimes she didn’t even offer it when I asked for it, preferring to guide me to the answers. It was maddening.
I leaned back against the couch and propped my feet on the battered oak coffee table. “Okay, so here’s what happened.”
I told her the whole story.
She kept her expression neutral, sipping her juice from time to time.
“So what do you think?” I asked after I finished. “Am I a moron? Did I overreact?”
“It isn’t about what I think. Do you think you overreacted?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t go all shrinky on me, okay? Just… just give me your honest opinion. Be a friend right now, not a psychologist. I’m not asking you to take sides or trash Sebastian. I’m only asking what you think of this whole business.”
She shifted to face me. “There’s no easy answer.
Sebastian kept this from you, which is a lie by omission.
But most people lie to gain something. Most lies are selfish, not selfless.
I don’t see a selfish angle here. You and Sebastian hadn’t started dating yet, so you can’t say he did this hoping to get into your pants.
If he wanted something from you, he would have told you about his gesture.
It sounds to me like he genuinely wanted to help, and I think he did it in a way that wouldn’t diminish your professional value in the least. He simply brought your work to the attention of the gallery’s curator. ”
“Who would never had known about me otherwise,” I pointed out.
“That’s true, but how does that affect the value of your art? Malcom or Sebastian did not force anyone to buy your work, yet as of yesterday, your exhibit was nearly sold out. That was on your merit and talent alone.”
“I know, but—”
“Jesse, you’re a great artist. Word-of-mouth is the best way to get noticed. Even this man, Benjamin the Third, hired you on the recommendation of your client, the guy who flips houses. Do you blame that guy for giving you a referral?”
“Of course not.”