Page 124 of The Version You Hide

“I’ve never been more ready.”

I unfurl my arms from around him and take his palm in mine, leading him through the maze of art and sculptures until we’re standing in front of the painting I poured my soul into.

“There it is.” I stand stiffly beside him, awaiting his reaction to my work.

To my relief, a slow smile stretches across his face as he takes it all in.

A beachscape. Cool blue waves crashing against a white sandy shore. A cloudless sky above. And there in the centre, a kelpie-border collie mix chasing a seagull into the water alongside a shirtless man wearing a pair of blue boardshorts.

A man, that if I’m being honest, stole my heart long ago, sitting around a beach bonfire at a mutual friend’s wedding.

“Amazing,” he says, not taking his eyes off the painting.

“Betty told me to paint something that moves me. Something that makes me feel alive,” I tell him. Then with a shrug, I add, “Well, that was after she suggested that my sexy diver boy perhaps belonged in my work.”

He turns to me now, his eyes searching mine. “Amazing,” he says again. “You’re amazing.”

“Excuse me,” a short older woman wearing a black pantsuit interrupts. “Are you the artist of this painting? I’d love to make an offer.”

“Uh…yes,” I say, taken by surprise. “I’m the artist.”

“How do you feel about – ” the woman begins.

“I’m sorry. I’m going to have to stop you right there.” Dylan interjects with a palm raised in the air. “I’ll pay double whatever you’re willing to pay for it, because there is absolutely no way in hell that this painting isn’t coming home with me.”

The woman smiles. “Sounds like you already have an eager buyer here, but I’d love to commission something in the future,” she says to me. “Your work is fantastic. I’ll be in touch.”

With that, she turns and wanders across the room, continuing to peruse the other paintings on display.

“Did you hear that, Kenz? Looks like you have a future buyer,” Dylan says enthusiastically. “You could really turn this into a career.”

I think back to what I’d said to Harper on the pier a few months ago. About how putting prices and deadlines on the things you love to do only turns them into chores.

Then I smile, a surge of happiness rippling through me at the possibility that I could make a living out of doing something that brings me so much joy. That I could share my art with others. It seems my pessimistic outlook on life has come a long way.

“Yeah, I guess I could.”

“I’m sorry I scared her away, but I have the perfect spot reserved for it.” He eyes the painting again, before his gaze returns to mine, a flicker of a grin tugging at his lips. “Also, I just really wanted to be your first customer.”

“You don’t have to pay for it, Dylan. It was never for sale.” I wrap my arms around his neck and lay a kiss on his lips. “It’s yours. And so am I.”

Epilogue

DYLAN – 6 MONTHS LATER

Mackenzie emerges from the art storeroom at the back of the studio. “I’ve finished unpacking that order and taken inventory, Grace,” she calls out. “Just have to get the supplies sorted for today’s first class.”

“I’m one step ahead of you,” Grace replies. “I’ve already laid everything out on the tables.”

The brand-new Abstract Palette re-opened in its Cliff Haven location about three months ago and Kenz and Grace have been doing an amazing job with it. Henley and his crew had done the fit-out according to their vision and the space looks incredible. It’s bright, airy, and spacious, with an epic view of the beach across the road.

And as if working in the studio and running art classes wasn’t enough to keep Kenz busy, the commission orders have been flowing in. I’m so proud of her.

As I sit and watch my girl here in her element, I’m in complete and utter awe, my chest warm with gratitude that the universe somehow managed to align my path with hers.

“Oh, awesome,” I hear her reply. “But what happened to those new fine line pens. They were right over here this morning when I arrived.”

I snicker, a smile lifting the corners of my mouth. “I kind of borrowed them.”

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