If I had these, though, what Ramses had made, I wouldn’t have sold any of it. “This isn’t amateur.”
“Go on.”
“I’m serious.”
“No, seriously go on. It’s all I can do not to freak that I’m actually showing you this.” His laughter was light as it hit the air, and I realized his cheeks were red. I’d never seen shy or vulnerable Ramses like this. It was completely flooring him that he was showing himself in this way.
And I liked it.
I didn’t know why, but I did. I guess I liked that he was showing me this part about himself. That I was the first he showed.
I studied the room a bit before he joined me at my side. “So, you’re going to sell your art here?”
“I’m going to feature it. The point of this place was to get into the game, though, and the only way my financial advisors didn’t completely look at me like I was crazy. My family does real estate and development. We have a few small businesses too, but nothing quite like this. This isn’t even in the same ball park.”
“So why did you do it?” Why did he show me he was doing it? Something like this seemed very special to him and basically confirmed what I’d seen at his place on campus. Ramses lived the secret life of an artist, and people like that, it wasn’t always easy to show that part of themselves.
“I suppose to
prove that I could.” He faced me. “I have a tendency of not going toward the things that speak to me. I’m trying to not default to that. To take chances. At least more of them.”
“And the reason for the change of heart?” I asked the question upon a glance of the room, so bouncing back, my gaze collided with his. It stopped me in my tracks as it always had.
Even from day one.
The first day he’d stood in front of me in a suit, brave enough to challenge me to a dare. I won, and he’d leave me. He’d actually said that like the odds weren’t stacked in his favor. I think he’d known the probability of his chances to win.
He directed his gaze down on me from above, his jacket tight with his thick shoulders. He hadn’t come in with his coat on at all, bearing the cold and this man physically stunned in front of me. Without his hair, I could see his eyes, his soul, too, probably if I looked hard enough. He took a step forward, but before he could speak, I asked for the rest of the tour. He hadn’t shown it all.
We should see it all.
“Of course,” he said. I noticed he was slow to retreat. He struck off the lights behind me, leaving the room dark, then I followed his big frame through the rest of the place. I guess the studio was someplace he could work since he came to the city a lot. He explained his family also had properties out here too.
Ramses proved to be a man of the world, and this little slice he had of it ended up in his office.
His display was very simple in there: a Mac, large granite desk, and a couch. The couch actually had blankets on it.
“Sorry,” he apologized immediately upon getting inside. He grabbed and quickly balled up the blanket. “I slept here last night. I was in the city to prepare for the charity event. Decided to do some work here in the studio. Never left as you can see.”
He had nothing to apologize for. I liked his dedication. This, what he was doing here, seemed like it should be his full-time job, but I understood his obligations to his family. Sometimes our calling didn’t always match with what was predetermined for us. But kudos to him for trying to find a balance between both.
“You promised me a story,” I said once we got inside. “I come with you here, check all this out, and I get a story.”
I wasn’t sure I was quite prepared for this story, but I did still care about him even if we weren’t friends. I cared about him as a person, and that seemed obvious. I shouldn’t, but I did.
I also shouldn’t be here with him and I knew that, but that didn’t stop me. I truly did care about this guy.
Stupid, I knew.
I had a feeling he cared about me too. I mean, he showed me all this first, and he did have friends. It was the friend I’d been curious about, but I’d been neither bold enough nor brave enough to push him on what had happened after I’d left. I just wanted to make sure he was okay regarding that situation.
Then you leave.
The only reason I stayed now. I gave myself a mental out. He’d tell me what happened with her. I’d find out he was okay, and then I could leave.
A messy fold and Ramses tossed that blanket on the couch, and in a quick, but also surprising action, he picked up a remote on his granite desk.
Soft tunes drifted into the room, easy listening hip hop beats. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was trying to seduce me.