Chapter 3

"He should movenumber three to nine's space," I quietly stated to my agent, who was acting as an intermediary in this battle.

"Taaalll-ya," Justin drew out my name as he sighed.

Throughout my life, I'd taken a lot of shit from those with penises, but not today. "Justin." I stared at him. I didn't need to use my words as our gazes locked.

He was my height, and I wasn't in heels.

"Fine." He walked to where Serge stood.

The gallery owner or manager, I wasn't sure what title he used, was too much. He was pissed that I didn't adore the display of my work. He was conferring loudly with Justin.

I pretended that I couldn't hear them. Neither's words could hurt me.

"Make her understand that I know my clients, and they appreciate color. I can't use black and white with her photos. There will be no pop." Serge waved his hands at the wall.

"Our contract states that the artist selects the background. We sent a list of approved paint makers and colors," Justin said, coolly confident.

I wanted to roll my eyes. My agent was Mr. Confidence when he could recite the terms of an agreement. It was what was coming next where he usually lost ground.

"She cannot expect us to paint now." Serge sounded outraged.

"Although we were not happy to find that Talia's requests were not honored, she is willing to overlook the wall color. However, she would like to make several changes to the order of display," Justin held firm.

"The event is sold out. We don't have time to act on her every whim." Serge began to pace.

"She asks for only two changes." Justin didn't move out of Serge's path.

"Everybody who has viewed the display raves." Serge had to detour around my agent.

"You agreed to no private showings." Justin's voice took on an edge. He hated people who didn't follow the rules.

Serge paused and let out a snort. "If someone were passing by and happened to see what I'm working on, it would be rude not to invite them to take a look."

I stopped listening as the men negotiated. I approached my photo of an abandoned house. I removed it from its hook. I didn't hesitate as I walked to my left.

"What are you doing?" Serge thundered as he approached.

"Improving the display." I stepped back, admiring my work.

He paused beside me.

"Now, do you notice the way the moon creates shadows? Over there," I pointed to the prior position, "you couldn't see it."

"That's amazing." He sounded awestruck. "It makes a huge difference."

"Who would know her work better?" Justin asked as he joined us. "Talia, we need to go so you can be beautiful for tonight."

He meant that we needed to go before I punched Serge in his throat.

Justin knocked on my hotel room door. "The car is here."

I took one last look at my reflection. I hadn't decided if I liked my shoulder-length bob. The red dress covered my body, but the cut of the fabric accentuated my curves. I wrapped my black cashmere coat over my shoulders and opened the door to Justin.

"How tall are those heels?" He took two steps backward.

"Three inches." I pulled the door closed behind me.

Although, at times, Justin frustrated me. He looked good in a suit and never attempted to push our relationship beyond the professional level.

Once we were seated in the back of the SUV, I turned to him. "I'm glad you left the scruff. It gives you an edge."

I could see the flash of teeth as he smiled. "I'm not sure what to expect tonight."

I placed my fingertips on my forehead. "I foresee many thin blondes with their much older husbands. They will want pretty things or will analyze the motive behind each shot and find many…ugly."

"And you will set them straight by telling them that life is ugly, as is the world."

Justin knew well my lack of patience with people who acted as if they understood my work and intentions.

I lifted my chin. "I know true aficionados are here, and many good galleries are sending representatives." I'd been to Chicago many times during my career.

"The economy makes it tough." We'd heard that said over and over. "Although there is old money lurking in pockets of the city and the northern suburbs."

"Hopefully, some of it will be out tonight." I doubted it, but I had been surprised a time or two.

I was bored.

It happened. Most times, the energy was high at openings, lifting my spirits. Tonight, I couldn't focus. I searched the room as if I were looking for someone specific. It was ridiculous. Bredon and Sig were somewhere in Europe, protecting Anton from himself.

I had tried to time my return to the Redd's land while the Packleader was gone. This time, I'd been called back for some ridiculous ball. Anton would like his family on display to counterbalance the rumors that we were suffering.

The Pack was. Too little food, too many worries, and inbreeding had weakened the line. Because of my talent, I could travel far away from that life in northern Canada. Of course, Anton made me pay dearly for the privilege.

It was worth the money to be away from him and what he represented. Bredon or Sig would have paid so I could stay away however long I wanted. However, I needed to show that I could take care of myself. I never wanted to be trapped, waiting to learn of my future while a male decided.

I felt Serge approach with a couple. "Talia, meet your newest fans."

The woman was gripping the man's arm tightly. "I just love horses." Her white smile against her spray tan nearly blinded me.

I flashed a fake smile. "And you are?" It always went better if I pretended an interest in their little lives.

"Oh…" She giggled uncomfortably. "I'm Wisdom, and this is my Pookie, Richard."

Yeesh. Who makes up these names? "And you like horses," I prompted.

"My wife likes one of your pictures," Richard told me.

I thought Serge's head might explode as he telepathically urged me to play nicely.

Like I would blow a sale?

Although, it might be fun to see if his head did explode.

"It was taken when I traveled through your Dakotas." I knew that people liked to learn a little history of a shot.

"I wish you used color. Black and white doesn't really work in my rooms," Wisdom said.

I wished Justin was nearby.

He would've slipped a twenty into my palm. It was our running bet. Every time I had to listen to the comments about my choices, he had to pay. "Currently, I don't work in color."

"But black and white is so old-fashioned," Wisdom murmured.

If only I could tell her my actual age. I looked to be in my early thirties when I had endured twelve centuries.

"She likes bright colors," the husband said, smiling indulgently.

I glanced toward Serge. It was his turn to step up and make the sale. "We all have our preferences." I nodded and turned to make my escape.

Twenty minutes later, I was sipping a decent glass of wine when a nearby conversation caught my attention.

"They're breathtaking," the woman spoke quietly with the man beside her.

"I thought you might find them interesting," the man drawled.

"I would've hung number four on the far wall. You need space to note the threat of an impending storm. Putting it between these two diminishes its impact," she said with a ringing confidence.

My interest piqued. They didn't seem like a couple. The man stood close, but that was to better hear the woman's thoughts. He was older and my height with a broad build. His hair was shaggy with threads of gray. His suit was not custom-fitted. I doubted that he wore it often. The woman was mid-height and voluptuous, but it was her insight into my work that captured my attention.

"I don't know what Ms. Belle looks like, and I'm unfamiliar with her representation." The man glanced around the room.

"If you knew her agent, she would be showing in your gallery." The woman moved on to the next photo.

I moved closer. I wanted to hear more of her thoughts.

"I would've moved this to the one spot. It has an instant impact. People react to nature. She has night, a full moon, and lightning. I want to run my fingertips over the moon to feel its texture."

I stepped closer and cleared my throat. "I was riding in a jeep. The driver didn't like getting wet. He hit a rut while I was taking the shot."

"The world is lucky for his folly," the woman said, grinning.

"We admire your work, Ms. Belle." The man bent slightly as if to execute a slight bow.

"Thank you." I believed him. "I heard you speak of rearranging the display…?"