I Married a Billionaire: Lost and Found(41)

"Well, that's comforting." I glanced up at the walls, noticing for the first time that they were plastered with little drawings, sketches, and watercolors - exactly the type of thing I wished I could do, but could never quite achieve. "See, that kind of thing -" I pointed to a portrait of a young man lounging on a windowsill, staring out at the landscape beyond. "That's what I wish I could do."

He smiled faintly. "You and me both," he said. "That was…well, still is, I suppose. One of my wife's drawings. That was me, once upon a time. Believe it or not."

I stood up, moving closer to it. The man's face was mostly hidden, but the physique certainly matched. "I can definitely believe it," I said. "I'm…she was very talented."

"Yeah, she was." He exhaled a lungful of vapor. "You want to hear the most pathetic story you'll be told all week?"

I chuckled, sitting back down. "Okay, I doubt that. But okay."

"We met in college. I was an artist. Well. An 'artist.' " He made air quotes around the word. "But she was an artist, you know what I mean? I was ashamed to even look at her. We had some of the same classes, figure drawing, you know, whatever…and I'd look over at her sometimes and her hand would just be f*cking flying across the paper. I had no idea how she was even doing it. It was like the ideas came so fast that her pencil couldn't keep up. I looked at the shit I was drawing, and then I looked at her, and I thought to myself…there's no way she'll ever take a second look at me. All predicated on this idea of me being a worse artist than she was, you know? Now, in retrospect, I have no idea if she would have been immediately turned off at the idea of dating someone who couldn't draw as well as she could. I mean, I have no idea if that was even on her list. But for some reason, at the time, I was utterly convinced that my inability to draw was going to ruin my chances with this girl. So, do you know what I did?"

"What?"

He was chuckling a little at the memory. "I knew that the one hot commodity - the one thing that every artist wanted, was a connection with a gallery owner. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how hard it can be just to get a placement. And no matter how good she was, she was still going to end up in the same slush pile as everyone else, right? So I figured - the one sure way to get her attention would be to just go ahead and…buy an art gallery."

"Oh my God." I was already laughing. "Please tell me you didn't."




He shrugged, grinning. "Well, I managed to sell it to my dad as a business opportunity. This space was up for sale, and it was a complete dump, so it was cheap. He had the money ten times over, so he fronted me and I bought the damn thing. I spent all my nights and weekends renovating it, to the point where my grades suffered even more than they already did. But by the end of it, it was worthwhile. I was able to do my first showing, and when I approached my wife with the proposition, of course she said yes. It was an amazing opportunity. I didn't have nearly enough spots for all the students, so it was going to be a stiff competition for my first showing. And I was straight up offering her a spot."

"And she fell for it?"

"Well." He took another puff. "What kind of sociopath would buy an entire art gallery just to impress one girl? Of course she bought it. It was much easier to believe than the truth."

I grinned at him. "I'm deeply troubled," I said.

"Don't worry, I told her before we got married. By then, she already knew I was a little crazy, so she took it all in stride."

I had to laugh. Really, it was nice to know there was someone out there with an even more f*cked-up origin story than Daniel and me.

"Did you ever wonder?" I looked up at her paintings again. "I mean - did it ever occur to you that maybe…manufacturing things like that…did you ever feel guilty, like she wouldn’t have ever been with you otherwise?" I realized how bad it all sounded, and I quickly began to backpedal. "I’m sorry," I said. "I don’t mean to be…that was a really rude thing to say. It’s just that…" I hesitated and took a deep breath. Curtis was watching me closely, concern on his face. "Daniel’s got this weird…thing. I think because he was my boss, and because of his money, he thinks I somehow felt obligated to be with him. Or whatever."

It was close enough to the truth without revealing our secret. Curtis was nodding.

"So it makes some kind of sense to you?" I asked, fiddling with my purse strap.

"Sure," he said. "I mean - not at this point, how long have you been together? Years, right?"

"Just over two." I cleared my throat. "But I mean…you know, there have been some rough patches."

Curtis sipped from a mug on his desk. "Of course," he said. "But some people are just a little more, you know, insecure. And odds are, he’s dealt with it before - people who were just sort of intimidated by his status, or they’re after his money, or whatever. It’s probably his default mode to just be bitter and suspicious." He took another drag from his e-cigarette. "Still, though," he said after a moment. "You’d think, after all this time."

I smiled, wanly.

"Yeah, you would think, wouldn’t you?"

***

The next time I got an unexpected phone call, it actually was Kelly. I only knew because I remembered her voice - she didn’t bother to introduce herself when I answered the phone, leading instead with: