“Yes.”
“You never showed it to me.”
“I thought you owned your own business.”
“I do. I own a lot of things.”
They hadn’t seen each other in ten years. Their only connection to each other was through Elsa and Noah.
“You got what you wanted then?”
“Always. You were picked up by a failing business, and Mr. Coal, for all of his niceness and eye for art, he’s bad for business.” Kurt kept moving around the room.
He wore an expensive designer suit, and she couldn’t help but tell that he screamed money. Biting her lip, she locked her hands together, trying to stop the shaking that was overcoming her. She was so scared, and she hated that.
Many times over the past year or so, she had noticed that Mr. Coal didn’t have any business sense. Her work, to her, was good. Others thought her work stunning. Her mother had wanted to exhibit it herself, but Kim had wanted to do it on her own. She didn’t want to earn credit where none was due.
“So you’re interested in art now?” she asked.
She wanted to keep him constantly talking.
“No.”
Kim frowned. “If you’re not interested in art, why are you here?”
He turned toward her. “You.”
“Me.”
“Yes, always you, Kimberley James. This is amazing work. Why have you never been up for an exhibit?”
“Mr. Coal hasn’t seen anything that he thinks would be worthy of an exhibit.” It had confused her completely. Mr. Coal would say she was brilliant, and then not put any of her work in an exhibit, always finding someone else, or failing to even book an exhibit with his personal issues. She had noticed several artists had taken their work and gone elsewhere. She hadn’t done that. Kim believed in sticking around. Her mouth was so dry, and she was so nervous about what Kurt thought of her work.
“He’s a fucking asshole, and he doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. These are amazing.”
“Thank you.”
Kim stared at him, noticing that Kurt had gotten bigger, filled out, and become more muscular. Averting her gaze, she stared at the floor, hoping this meeting would just end.
“You know this place is in the fucking ground, don’t you?”
“You’re the reputable businessman that’s supposed to bring it out of the mire of debt?”
Kurt smirked. “That’s right, babe.”
“I thought businessmen had a little more … tact about them.”
“Never really cared for being predictable. Learned that at my dad’s place years ago.” He pushed his hands into his pockets and turned toward her. Staring into his brown eyes, she felt a little out of place.
Ten years had passed since they’d been peers.
“You should be far more advanced than this.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re much better than this. Mr. Coal is an asshole. To consider you an asset, and not sell your work, I don’t get it.”
“Kurt, what are you doing here?”
“Let’s get right down to it. I’m here to offer you a deal.”
“How did you even know I was here?” Kim hadn’t kept an eye on all of Kurt’s whereabouts.
Kurt paused and stared at her. “Do you really think I’ve not kept an eye on you after all this time?”
“It has been ten years. I shot you down every time.”
He shrugged. “This place is dead in the water, Kim. I have no desire for it. I have desire for your work, and I have a proposition for you.”
“I don’t know what to think right now,” she said.
He’d been keeping an eye on her? Had he been stalking her? No, this was not really stalkerish, was it? Shouldn’t a stalker make her feel threatened? She was so confused right now, and she didn’t like it.
“You don’t need to do anything. You’re broke. This shop’s not going to last the week, and I’m not saving it. The only person I’m interested in is you. Your work, it needs to go to the right places.”
“Garbage?”
“No. A real exhibit for people to come and see what beauty you give to the world. I know you’re broke, and you’re too damn proud to go to your parents. So, I have an offer for you. I have a place set up in the countryside. I’ve got a room for all of your art equipment. I want you to paint for me.”
“Paint for you?”
“Yes. I’d like to be the boss, and to tell you what I want you to do.”
“I’m not going to sleep with you.”
Kurt smiled. “One day you will.”
“Seriously, ten years, and you’re still hung up about the fact I said no?”
“I’m not hung up on it. I know why you said no. I got it. I’m showing you I’m a changed man.”
“By what? Making me draw for you?”
“Then go home. Go back to your parents, and wait for another chance to come along. You can do that. Your mother will set you up for an exhibit. Your dad will pay your bills, and when people ask how you did it, you can say your parents helped.”