Why Not Tonight (Happily Inc. #3)(78)

“That’s why they have YouTube videos,” Mathias said as he walked to his computer. “We already have clay. This is going to be fun.”

In less time than he would have thought, they were all covered in clay and laughing over their disasters. As with many techniques, it was harder than it looked. Natalie had produced a passably acceptable bowl. Nick turned everything he touched into an oversize penis and Mathias kept pressing too hard to the left, creating lopsided, undefinable blobs.

“I would have thought you’d be the best of all of us,” Ronan admitted. “You make dishes and vases all the time. Shouldn’t you be able to translate into clay the easiest?”

“I’m ignoring you,” Mathias said cheerfully, taking his turn at the wheel. “At least I’m not advertising my inability to satisfy my wife.” He nodded at Nick’s long and bulbous creation.

“Hey, Pallas is perfectly satisfied. I was trying to make a tall vase.”

“Sure you were.”

Ronan caught Natalie’s gaze and winked at her. She laughed. He felt the weight he’d been carrying lighten a little. She was good for him, he admitted, knowing it was equally important that he be good for her, as well.





CHAPTER NINETEEN

NATALIE STUDIED THE CANVAS. It was the second time she’d finished the piece—the first had ended with it going up in flames. She still had to struggle not to wince when she thought about how horrible that had been. Although now, stepping back and looking at what she’d completed, she had to concede this one was even better.

She liked the different textures from all the items she’d used. Found bits and buttons and ribbon and fabric all blended perfectly with the paper flowers and butterflies that made up the foundation. There was something alive, a sense of hope. Or maybe that was just her. Regardless, it was finished and now she had to suck it up and show Atsuko.

She should have done it yesterday, she thought. Or the day before. But fear was a bitch and she’d had to work up the courage. Not that her boss would ever be anything less than supportive. She had a feeling Atsuko would take the piece and put it in the gallery. It was the price that was the reckoning.

She grabbed the canvas in both hands and started for the door. Nick beat her to it and held it open, then murmured, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

She glanced back at Ronan, on the far side of the room. He was working with his team today, already dripping sweat from too much time spent near the fiery ovens. He spotted her and gave her a quick thumbs-up.

She went into the gallery and set the canvas on an easel in the back room, then knocked on Atsuko’s open office door.

“Natalie. I thought today was an art day for you.”

“It is. I finished something.”

Her boss immediately rose. “I’m excited to see whatever it is.”

“It’s not the flowers. I’m still working on those.”

“That’s fine. I know better than to push one of my artists.”

Natalie nearly stumbled. Was that how Atsuko thought of her? As one of her artists? Nick and Mathias and Ronan were her artists. Natalie had always thought of herself as, well, not like them.

She mentally paused to remind herself that getting a lot of money for something didn’t mean someone was better or worse than anyone else. Art was about creation and drive and vision, not a check from a gallery. And while she mostly believed that, she had to admit there was an element of legitimacy that she craved. Not to mention a few dollars in her hiatus fund.

They walked into the small back room where they stored tables and chairs and linens for their special events. Atsuko paused when she saw the canvas.

“I saw this before, when you first started it. You made a lot of changes.”

Natalie shook her head. “They weren’t voluntary. At least not at first.” She explained about the fire.

“Once I recovered from the shock, I kept going back to it. One day I knew what to do.” She touched a ribbon petal. “I’m thinking I might try burning a piece again. In a very controlled way, of course. There’s something very freeing about the whole rising-from-the-ashes concept. I can’t really explain it.”

Atsuko walked back and forth, examined the canvas, moved close, then moved back. “I would suggest you start working on being able to explain it. We have a gallery event in a couple of weeks and you might be asked a few questions.”

“Wh-what?”

Asked questions? Why would that happen? While she’d had her pieces in the gallery during events before, she’d never been one of the featured artists. She’d attended the fancy evenings, but only as staff. The important artists, the ones displayed on the gallery walls, were the featured talents. They were expected to mingle with potential buyers, make small talk and explain their art.

Before she could think about breathing or ask any questions, Atsuko picked up the canvas and carried it into the gallery. She leaned it up against the far left wall, considered it, then shook her head.

“No, not on the end. I think I want it more toward the center. I’m going to need to do some rearranging.” She glanced at Natalie. “Assuming this is mine to sell.”

“Of course.”

“Good. Draw up the standard contract.” Atsuko smiled. “I’m going to price this at twenty-four thousand dollars.”