CHAPTER 10

Daniel Shepherd treats me like how I'm used to being treated, like I'm important and with a touch of reverence.

He carries the right amount of respect and grace. In an attempt to sway Levi Anderson's decision in my favor, I offer to have more work commissioned by other artists afterward. If Levi Anderson agrees and satisfies me sufficiently, I may increase my interest in this gallery.

I watch him scurry out of the room with his sketchbook clutched in his hand and his head bowed. He moves with more purpose today than the previous time we met.

Twenty-four hours later, Levi Anderson has declined my offer, and I'm fucking furious.

Twenty-four hours after that, I demand to speak to him on the phone. He's the quintessential starving artist. There is no conceivable reason for him to decline, at the very least, the financial benefit of my offer.

He hangs up on me after I pose the question regarding financial rewards. I'm appalled and just fucking seething at his rudeness, but a second later, my phone lights up with a text.

Unknown number: Sorry. I'm better with texts.What exactly are you looking for in these paintings?

I know the answer. I want to remember and forget at the same time. I want to hold on to the nostalgia, the longing for a time when Nicholas was still alive, and, at the same time, I want to shut that part of my life off as if it never existed. I want to be and not be. Live and not live. I want to go to that place I can't seem to grasp nor shake. Levi Anderson would know what to do with that kind of delusion.

My eyes are drawn to his painting on my wall.

I text him back: I want to go to the place not found. He can do with that what he will. He's an artist. And only artists know how to show us our own madness.

"Hayden?" My secretary, Kelsey's voice comes through the speaker phone sometime after my short exchange with Levi.

"Yes?"

"Daniel Shepherd from Gallery 180 called. The artist, Levi Anderson, has asked for a meeting one week from today to discuss the themes for the paintings you're interested in. He says he'll decide if he is capable of producing the work you're expecting after discussions with you. Your diary is full until the third week of April. I'll schedule him in for then. It'll be two days after your trip to California."

"No. Clear my diary for next week."

"Hayden, I don't have that kind of leg room for you on such short notice. Next week is your first international trip in months, and you'll need the rest. Plus, you have three international conference calls the morning after you arrive back home. I can't move any of those meetings."

"Then schedule it for after hours after my Australia flight." I'm confident the gallery will uphold an after-hours meeting.

"No way, Hayden. You'll be exhausted. I can't put you up for a nighttime meeting after nearly thirty hours of travel. Surely, it can wait until April?"

"No, it can't." My response is as nonsensical as it sounds to my and Kelsey's ears. Of course, it can wait. There isn't any particular urgency that I can identify for this resistance I'm putting up.

"I'm flying business, Kelsey. It'll be thirty hours of comfort. Schedule the meeting. Just make sure to schedule enough time for me to freshen up when I get back home."

She sighs, agreeing reluctantly.

I end the call and pick up my pen, circling the date I'll see Levi Anderson again. Nicholas would've liked him. He seems a bit like Nicholas—soft and gentle but I don't know for sure if that's an accurate assumption. Maybe he's just a nervous employee. Either way, Nicholas would've liked him. If Nicholas had commissioned a series of paintings, he would've chosen someone like Levi.

Maybe, after Levi has painted for me, there'll be a place I can go to, to feel Nicholas again. Maybe Levi has the keys to the invisible doors where I might be able to find Nicholas. And if not Nicholas, then, at least myself. Maybe Levi will paint me a doorway where the me that I was before might be found.

My eyes are drawn once again to the painting hanging on the wall. But what if everything I'm looking for truly doesn't exist anymore? What will happen then? How much longer will I live this life in between life and death. Between sadness and more sadness. How long will I have to live with the guilt for every breath I take knowing that Nicholas hasn't breathed for two years.

Levi Anderson is the answer. Levi, the gallery assistant, who painted the place not found, must surely know where that mysterious place is. He has the answers. He holds the secrets. He wouldn't have painted such a place if he didn't know the way there.

A week from today I'll convince him to paint the path for me.

He'll lead, and I'll follow. And, if I can't find Nicholas; if I can't find rest from my fragmented mind, then maybe he'll show me the way to the place where I can find the pieces of my shattered heart. Maybe he'll tell me with his art where to find my peace again.