Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

Saylor

I'm disappointed when I see a text from Canyon canceling our date for tonight.

I can't imagine what kind of family emergency has come up, but he didn't hesitate to step in when my life blew up, so I can't be too grumpy about it.

I text Harper to tell her I won't be at the event after all, but she invites me to go with her and Gabe. It's for charity, after all, so there's no reason we can't go together.

They pick me up, and it's nice to get out for the evening, especially since most of my girlfriends are here too.

"You're dateless?" Chey asks, cocking her head. "What happened to Canyon?"

"Family emergency," I say. "At least, that's what he said. I didn't get any details."

"Well, you didn't hear it from me," Autumn says quietly, "but the team got a call from CPS in Illinois. Apparently, there's a child whose mother died or something, but I was running out the door so I didn't get the whole story from Henrik."

We all stop and stare.

Harper frowns. "I hadn't heard about this."

"You have a lot on your plate," Autumn says gently.

"The Barrowman boys filed another case against me," she says, referring to her late husband's two adult sons. They'd been fighting her on ownership of the Phantoms ever since the court had ruled in her favor. Her lawyer told her the will was ironclad, but every subsequent suit cost her time, money, and frustration.

"That sucks," I say, shaking my head.

"I don't want to talk about that tonight." She looks at Autumn. "How are wedding plans coming?"

Autumn and Henrik are getting married at the end of June.

"Good. I have a dress finally. Now I just have to not get pregnant between now and then so I can fit into it."

"Are you guys trying?" Chey asks.

"Sort of? We're using condoms but I'm not on birth control anymore."

I see the look on Stevie's face and my heart hurts for her.

She's trying so hard to be supportive and happy for Autumn, but there's no doubt she's heartbroken. She had a miscarriage a few months ago that led to hemorrhaging and an emergency hysterectomy. It's been hard to watch her coming to terms with everything that's happened, and we're all trying to be there for her.

Unfortunately, anything to do with weddings and babies sets her off, but I don't know how we can avoid all of that. Autumn and Henrik, and Ivan and Chey, are both getting married this summer, and since Henrik is sixteen years older than Autumn, we know they plan to start trying immediately. Gabe and Harper have been trying, too.

Babies aren't really on my radar.

I want a family someday, but not until I have the right man at my side.

One that probably isn't going to be Canyon, so it's ironic that he's apparently already a dad.

That's a twist I wasn't expecting.

Not that it impacts me one way or the other.

My gut tells me this thing between us is going to be short-lived and maybe that's for the best. I'm okay with risking my heart, but getting hurt is never fun, and he's the kind of guy who could hurt me.

I have plenty to keep me busy, so I don't plan to dwell on it. Between the gallery, a few acting and modeling jobs that have been lined up for a while, and keeping up with my friends, I don't have time to worry about a guy who doesn't want to be in a relationship.

Even if the sex is out of this world.

Even though I really like him.

"You're thinking about Canyon," Stevie says, linking her arm through mine.

"A little," I admit.

"You think it'll matter if he has a kid?"

"Not to me, but you know how guys are. He's been very clear that he's not interested in getting serious."

"Yeah, but they all say that, don't they?"

"I don't know," I admit. "No other guy has ever said that to me before. I've dated guys who wanted to keep things casual, but it was always mutual."

Her face falls, and she shrugs one shoulder. "I guess I'm that needy girl who always falls in love with emotionally unavailable men."

"You've had a rough couple of years," I soothe, "but you're going to come out the other side. I promise, there is someone out there for you."

"Yeah, probably some old guy with a bunch of adult kids. No one my age is going to want a woman who can't give him kids."

"That's ridiculous. Lots of people our age don't want kids. I can name three friends off the top of my head who don't want them."

She nods but looks away. "Oh, hey, there's Addy. I'm going to go say hi."

"All right." I watch her practically scurry away, and sigh sadly.

"Is she freaking out?" Harper asks, coming up behind me, her voice soft.

"No. But she's sad. She's reached the no-one-will-ever-love-me-now-that-I-can't-have-kids stage of grief."

Harper makes a face. "Don't tell the others, but I'm about five weeks pregnant. It's too soon to tell anyone, but I'm dreading having to tell Stevie."

"I'm so happy for you," I whisper, hugging her. "But yeah, we'll try to come up with a way to soften the blow."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

"Are you happy?"

"So happy. And Gabe is over the moon."

"You guys are going to make the prettiest babies!"

She grins. "I think so too."

* * *

I've just opened the gallery the next morning when Bertie arrives—with Russell in tow. She's carrying a massive box of gourmet doughnuts and a bouquet of roses, while Russell is behind her with one of those cardboard cartons of coffee people bring to meetings.

"What's all this?" I ask, taking the flowers from Bertie.

"We've come to support you and make sure everyone knows you're not going anywhere," she says.

"I'm here to be supportive too," Russell adds. "And because Aunt Bertie said I had to." He looks a little sheepish, and I still wonder if he was the one who vandalized the gallery, but it seems sullen to say that out loud.

"Well, it wasn't necessary, but I appreciate it." I go into the back and find a vase, filling it with water and putting the roses in it.

"Hey, uh, Saylor?" Russell is standing behind me, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

"Yes?" I turn politely, even though I'm suddenly nervous that he followed me.

"I just want you to know, I would never do, uh, you know, what they did. What they wrote." He clears his throat. "I'm really bad with women, no doubt about that, but I'd never do something illegal. And that's an ugly word. I just wanted you to know that."

"Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to say it." I feel like he's sincere and although I'm not a hundred percent sure I believe him, there's no point in making a big deal out of it.

We walk back into the main showroom and find Bertie setting up a little counter I have with the coffee and doughnuts.

"You have a customer!" she calls to me.

Sure enough, there's a middle-aged woman I don't recognize perusing the side room.

"Good morning," I say. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Hi." She turns with a smile. "I read about what happened in the paper and people suck. I got your email and I'm here to support you. I need something with green in it. Do you have anything like that?"

"Of course." I bring her to the front, and from there, it's non-stop all day.

Customers, both old and new, visit all day long. If the vandal had been hoping to ruin me, he'd gone about it in the wrong way. At the rate I'm going, I'll have to find another way to supplement my income, because I couldn't paint fast enough to keep up with demand. Harper mentioned raising my prices. Just a little, maybe ten or fifteen percent, but enough to slow down sales.

I'd done it for two new paintings and those had sold first.

By the end of the day, I've sold all but two paintings and once I take down everything that's no longer available, the walls are going to be bare.

"What am I going to do?" I ask Stevie when she shows up around closing time. "I can't paint fast enough to fill the gallery. I have an artist friend from New York planning a show, but not until fall. It's only March. The walls are almost bare!"

"But that's a good thing, isn't it?" Stevie asks, looking around. "You made enough money to pay the rent and stuff, right?"

"Oh, absolutely. And I guess the timing isn't terrible because I'm going to have to close the gallery while I'm working on that sitcom I'm making an appearance on."

Stevie chews the inside of her cheek. "What if I kept the gallery open for you?" she asks after a moment. "I don't want to get paid or anything, but I…I need something to do. I can't just sit and stare at the walls anymore."

"Aren't you going back to work?"

She shakes her head. "Not yet. I'm still healing from the surgery and, to be honest, all the work is in New York. I'm not ready to go back."

She'd lived in New York and still owned a brownstone in Brooklyn.

"What about your house?" I ask her.

"I'm putting it on the market. But I need to go clean it out and pack. And I'm not ready. Anyway, could I help out here? Just for something to do?"

"Sure." I nod. "And even though I won't pay you a salary, if you sell anything, I'll give you ten percent."

She chuckles. "Sure. Offer me a percentage now that there are only two paintings left."

"I have two more at home that are almost done."

"Then what?"

"Then I need to spend more time painting." I pause. "You know, for now, while supply is low and you don't have anything going on, why don't you work here whenever you feel like it? That gives me time to stay home and paint."

"Oh!" Her face lights up. "That sounds awesome. I can work any time you want me to."

"Why don't you come in tomorrow and I can show you around. How to take payments, look up customers, and how to answer the most common questions. I'll type something up for you too, in case I'm not available when you need help."

"You know what? You should consider teaching art classes. To fill the gallery and give you time to get more inventory. Like art for non-artists or something. Or kids' classes!"

"I've been thinking about that, but I wasn't sure it would work…" I say thoughtfully.

"You could put easels and stuff in that little room on the side, where you keep your more expensive pieces. Now that the room is almost empty, use it for classes. Happy kids will bring in their parents, who will hopefully buy expensive art."

"I should just let you run the gallery," I joke. "And I'll paint."

She smiles. "I think people come here to see you, but I'm excited to help. And have a reason to get up in the morning."

"It's win-win," I say. "Thank you, Stevie."

"Thank you ." She throws her arms around me and hugs me tightly.

It's been a while since I've seen her this happy, and it makes me feel good that I can do it for her.

Maybe it'll be good for both of us.