“And how’s that?” I asked.
“Because I can tell by the way she’s looking at you right now that she loves you.”
My eyes whipped back over to Amanda and she dropped her gaze to the plates. She was scooping up everyone food before she carried it to the table. Her cheeks were tinted with a healthy red glow as a smirk plastered itself on her beautiful face.
“You think so?” I asked.
“I know so,” Jack said. “Talk to her. Tell her. Don’t wait another second. You’ve lost enough in this life. It’s time you started gaining a bit.”
“Breakfast is served,” Amanda said. “Coffee all around?”
“The perfect drink to top off the perfect breakfast,” Jack said.
“Oh, he really is a charmer, isn’t he?” Amanda asked.
“Only to women who are truly beautiful,” I said.
Amanda’s eyes locked with mine and she blushed again, but it was the look in her eye that caught my attention. I could’ve sworn there was nothing in her eyes but adoration, but the moment was so fleeting that I couldn’t be sure.
But Jack was. Jack was beyond sure.
“Told you,” he said.
“Shut up and let’s eat,” I said.
CHAPTER 31
AMANDA
“Are you sure? This is all you want for the gallery?” I asked.
“I’m sure,” the owner said.
“But this is, sir, I’m sorry, but you could easily get four times this. Why in the world are you selling it for so cheap?”
“Because I’m not in this to turn a profit. So many artists want to become famous. They want to drown themselves in the intoxication of fame and fortune. You’re going to need the money you have to turn this place into what you want it to be. And to fill these walls with your paintings. I looked you up online. Your artwork is breathtaking. It’s one of the reasons why I chose you to take over.”
I sat there, staring at the paperwork as my hands trembled. Even if I bought the gallery, I would still have enough money to put some finishing touches on the place, change the name, fill the store with basics, and buy enough supplies to keep me painting for months. I wouldn’t have to take out the whopper of a loan I’d applied for, and I would be able to afford the payments by selling my art, just as I’d always dreamed.
I sat there in shock as my eyes began to water with tears.
“You saw my artwork online?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “You’re very talented. You paint for yourself. You paint with your emotions. You don’t ride trends or try to benefit off viral activity, whatever that means. You’re just you, and it shines through your work. I wouldn’t have wanted to give this place to someone who wanted nothing more than to turn a profit. Making money is important, yes. But it can’t be the bring you the happiness I see in your work.”
“I completely agree,” I said breathlessly.
“Now, if you want to finish signing the paperwork, we can get this done, and this place can be yours,” he said.
I quickly signed and initialed before writing him a check for the very meager price he was asking. My hands were shaking as tears of happiness slid down my cheeks. It was happening. I was getting my own art gallery. I could already see my paintings on the walls alongside other artists. I could see the children running around as they took my weekly art class. I could already see myself selling pieces and building a reputation and having weekend workshops and doing partnerships with other small businesses in my hometown.
It was all so surreal as I handed the check over to him.
“So, what do you plan to do first?”
“What?” I asked.
“With the gallery,” he said, chuckling. “What do you plan on doing first?”