CHAPTER FOUR

Luca

Maykin Miles Salinger’s gallery was a big get for me. She wasn’t doing me a favor either, I’d made sure of it. I’d come for a visit on my own, borrowed my mom’s SUV and brought a few paintings with me. No one knew I was coming. I lied and said I was visiting SMU for the weekend. My parents were so thrilled that I was showing interest in college that they happily let me leave.

I’d known Maykin my entire life, but it wasn’t like we vacationed together or anything. She was my Aunt Evie’s best friend. She and her husband were around occasionally. Birthday parties and barbeques, things like that. I never remembered meeting Grey though. And he would’ve been hard to miss. Tall and skater boy handsome like his dad, but vibrant and alluring like his mom. He was the perfect melding of two pretty awesome people.

I hadn’t seen him since the day we got into town and I refused to ask anyone where he was. I refused to be intrigued by him and his devilish smirk. I was here to work. This was my job. My career. I wouldn’t be distracted by hypnotizing eyes and intriguing tattoos. If the show went well, then my path was set, and even my overbearing parents couldn’t try to change my mind.

School was never for me. I didn’t excel in academics like my little brother. Liam was an actual genius. Four years younger than me and already being scouted by schools like MIT.

When I was little, I tried to dance like my mom. She had a studio where she was a ballet instructor. It wasn’t for me either. The one thing, the only thing that had ever brought me real joy was my art. Painting.

I’d been at my Aunt Evie’s house one day when I must’ve been five. There was an easel in the corner with a canvas, and an entire set up of brushes and paints. She saw me staring and told me to go for it, to make a mess, to have fun. Later I’d learned that Maykin had sent the supplies to my cousin London as a Christmas gift, and she hadn’t been interested.

My life had come full circle. Maykin Miles Salinger had inadvertently introduced me to my passion, and now almost twenty Christmases later, I had a show opening at her prestigious downtown gallery.

“You ready for tonight, kiddo?” My dad patted my knee, a warm smile on his face.

I complained about the future my parents wanted for me, but I knew it was all out of love and concern. They wanted me to be happy, but they were scared. Musicians, dancers, artists, creators were basically all they knew. They’d both grown up inside a proverbial snow globe of talent and notoriety. Chaos. They wanted calm for Liam and me. Peace. Stability and safety.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I turned my gaze back to the window. The sun was starting to set, the glittering lights of the city coming to life. I was a far cry away from the small town where I’d grown up a Devil’s Spawn’s Progeny. Third generation, respectively. “Thank you for coming with me, for staying while we got everything finalized and set up.”

Grey assumed I was hiding things inside my art because of my parents. That wasn’t it though, not entirely. My family saw my art, they really saw it. They saw me, and they loved me. No matter what kink I hid in a field of wildflowers.

“Where else would I be? I’m your number one fan.” He gave my leg a shake. “Your mom and Liam are meeting us at the gallery, and Granny and Gramps are already there waiting.” My dad was listing family members off on his fingers, and we both knew he would run out of digits before he ran out of people. “Smitty and Grand Dil won’t be here until tomorrow, the old guys couldn’t get out of that reunion gig. They tried though. But we’re meeting them for breakfast and they have Maykin opening the gallery for a private showing.”

The Devil’s Share, my grandpa’s band had decided to play a slew of reunion shows this year. Smitty said they were all getting fat and their fingers would stop working any day now, so they might as well make some retirement padding while they still could. They didn’t need the money. They owned the majority share of RiffRaff Records, which was thriving.

And contrary to the ribbing they received from their kids, they certainly hadn’t let themselves go. Uncle Jacks still had a six pack for fuck’s sake. Just ask him, he’d show you.

I assumed they were bored. Aunt Lexi said they were horny for their glory days. It was sweet and very like them to demand Maykin open the gallery for a special showing. Uncle Dash probably offered her an ungodly amount of money to get his way. He once paid Uncle Talon and his band a hundred grand to change the order of the songs on their record so that the first letters of each title would spell out BIGDDASH.

Speaking of retired rock stars tossing money around like confetti… “I don’t want the family to buy all my art. You told them that right?” If I had my way, they wouldn’t have even known about the damn show. I wanted to see if my art sold, really sold, to people I wasn’t related to in any way shape or form. “If they come in there and purch—”

“I told them.” He nodded his head, lips pursed. “They all swore they wouldn’t buy one single piece of art. They believe in you kiddo, you know that. We all do. This show is going to a huge success.”

I was confident in my talent, I was. But I was also getting more and more nervous the closer we got to the gallery.

This was it. I was putting myself and my art out there for the world to judge.

I hoped they liked what they saw.

I hoped my art spoke to them.

I hoped it appealed to their eyes and whispered to their desires.

I hoped tonight was the first night of the rest of my life.