Page 116 of I Love My Mistake

Chapter Fifty-Four

Eleven Minutes Later

Holding out his hand like a gentleman, Mark helps me out of the cab. “Thank you, handsome,” I smile, rising up to stand beside him on the sidewalk. I can’t take my eyes off the gallery. It’s lit up, and it’s amazing.

Randy’s standing by his door, hands on the hood. “Look at that!” he says with awe.

“You sure you can’t come in?”

He shrugs, smiling. “Have to work. But I’m proud of you.” The way he’s smiling of me makes me warm inside. My own father didn’t even respond to my invitation for tonight. Having Randy here, looking at me like a proud papa – it will have to do. He waves at Mark. “And nice meeting you, Mr. Mark.”

Mark waves. “It’s really nice to meet you, too, Randy. Thanks for looking out for my girl.” I give him a light smack on the chest and he laughs.

“You’re really enjoying calling me that.”

“You bet your sweet ass I am.”

I laugh and tap the top of the cab as Randy dips back inside, humming. “Bye Randy!” He honks the horn. As he drives off, we walk into the doors like a chapter is beginning. Jack strides over like he owns the place. ;) I introduce the two men and they shake hands and talk about San Francisco for a minute or two.

“You look lovely,” Jack says. “Ready to take a look at what you’ve done?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I sigh. Mark stays behind as we walk around, giving us space to talk business. He stops to stare at each painting and looks perfectly at ease in the space.

Jack had asked me to come early to make sure I was happy with everything before the people arrived. As if I could be unhappy! “They look so great, Jack. There’s a lot more than I remember,” I stand back to see the layout better. He has the paintings staggered with some on top of each other, three high on the two largest walls, and others showcased by themselves. It’s not overly controlled or conservative, which is perfect. The first piece I did after the breakthrough, sits on a wall of its own, on a partition constructed in the center of the room. I throw a knowing look to Mark who catches what I’m thinking, and winks back at me.

Jacks attitude tonight is gentle. “What do you think?”

I throw up an eyebrow. “What’s with the softer side of Jack?”

He looks surprised but recovers quickly. “I was being nice because I thought you’d be nervous.”

“Well, quit it. You’re creeping me out.”

He lets out a hearty laugh. “I couldn’t have kept it up for long anyway.”

“We’re going to go get a drink until people arrive. Want to join us?”

He narrows his eyes and motions to the bar that’s set up by the back partition wall, the one that blocks the alley entrance. “Something wrong with our sponsor?” A handsome bartender waits patiently, looking at me. On the table behind him are bottles of Chopin Vodka next to white and red wine bottles bearing labels too far away to read.

I sneak a peek to Mark who’s staring at a painting near the door. “Sorry, but I want whiskey.”

“Go go go. Be a fashionably late cliché – see if I care. I’ll stay here and play host.” He rolls his eyes, pretending to be very put out.

“Poor Jack. Poor, poor Jack.” I call to Mark, “Mark! Let’s get drunk!”

Mark grins and goes to open the front door. “Want to call your friends?”

“I love that idea!” to Jack I call back, “See you in a bit, you big baby.”

Jack calls out, dryly, “I love you, too, Ms. Henry. Now go. I don’t want to look at your smug face anymore.”

I pause, halfway out the door. “Jack, have you been looking at a mirror again?”

He holds up a fist and fake-growls at me, turning on his heel to say to the bartender in a loud voice, “What are you waiting for? Pour me a drink!”

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