I wasn’t about to disagree with him on that. He had just handed me a check that was going to change my life. This was going to make a world of difference.
“Thank you, Gordon,” I said sincerely. “For taking a chance on me.”
“Thank you… for being worth it,” Gordon responded.
I laughed. “So… does that mean that you’d be willing to display more of my work in your next exhibit?” I asked.
“I can do one better,” Gordon said. “I want to set up a new exhibition… an exclusive Danvers collection… nothing but your work.”
I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“A hundred percent… your work was popular… people seemed to find it warm and humane and layered. I’ve got to capitalize on that.”
I smiled. “I guess I’ve got to get to work then,” I said.
“You have six months.”
“Six months?” I repeated, with a gasp. “That’s… Gordon, that’s not nearly enough time. You’ll need how many paintings… fifteen, twenty?”
“Twenty-five,” Gordon replied promptly.
“That’ll take me longer than six months,” I said. “I need to create a collection first; I need to work on it… I need to let it breathe.”
“You’ll do fine,” Gordon told me. “We need to build a name for you, and we need to do it fast…while your name is still on people’s minds. Just work full time.”
I paused. “But—”
“Come on… isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for?”
I smiled and nodded. It was what I had been waiting for, and it was time to stop complaining and get to work. If all went well, then this next exhibition would give me an even bigger payout.
“Ok, Gordon… I’ll keep you informed about my progress.”
“Don’t let me down,” he said.
We shook hands, and I headed out of the gallery and back home. It was so nice to say that word, especially because now it meant something. I had a home… and it was with Zoey.
I could hear the sound of sizzling meat in the frying pan when I stepped into our apartment. Zoey had already started making dinner, and I rushed in to help her. But it looked like she didn’t really need my help at all. The table had been set beautifully, though it looked like one too many place settings had been laid out. The wine sat in the middle of the table like a centerpiece, right next to the cheese plate.
There was fresh garlic bread on the table as well and pasta with cherry tomatoes on the top. Zoey was wearing a powder blue dress with thin straps, and over it, she had thrown on a black apron. She had tied her hair up in a high knot at the back of her head. She hated cooking with loose hair. She was humming loudly and twirling around the kitchen so she didn’t notice as I approached. I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist.
“Hey there, gorgeous,” I said, kissing the back of her neck.
“Hey, you,” she greeted, with a little laugh. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“You’re in a good mood,” I pointed out.
“Aren’t I always?” Zoey asked.
“True,” I nodded. “But I meant that you seemed happier than usual.”
“Well… that’s because I have some news,” Zoey said, turning to me.
“Oh yeah?”
“I got a job,” she said, with a wide, excited smile.
“No way!”