“We have plenty to talk about. Anyway, you know more about art than you thought. Don’t you remember?”
“I do. What you told me the night we met changed how I look at art. I still don’t know if it’s technically good or not, but at least I know how I feel about it.”
They smiled at each other.
“And Delaney — I wanted to apologize for calling you a hypocrite before. I understand now that we’re more similar than I thought. We’re both just trying to make our ways in a world that isn’t set up to help us.”
“True.” Delaney nodded. “Thank you.” She bit her lip. “I’m not going to apologize for what I said, though, about how you’ll never be happy if you’re always chasing the next billion. I stand by that. I understand why money is important to you, and I respect that, but I still think that always looking to the next goal blinds you to a lot of life.”
“You’re guilty of that sometimes, too,” Logan said. “After all, you agreed to go on this trip with me, even though you despised me. That must have been because you cared about a goal over momentary happiness.” He raised his eyebrows in a challenge, and Delaney nodded.
“True. But I’m enjoying this trip as best I can, despite being here with someone who I wasn’t happy to spend a few days with. It turns out that I was wrong, though. This has been nicer than I expected.”
“To a trip that’s nicer than expected.” Logan raised his glass, and Delaney did the same. They smiled at each other across the table.
“And to a possible Botticelli tomorrow,” Delaney added.
“I suppose that’s another point of contention between us, isn’t it?” Logan rested his glass on the table.
“Are you still planning to lock the painting away where only you and your rich friends can see it?” Delaney raised her eyebrows. “Because if so, yes. That is a point of contention.”
“I have to ask, though. When my family didn’t have a lot of money, we rarely visited museums. I remember going a few times on free days, and my parents had some prints in our house, but it wasn’t like we saw a lot of art. Even if the Botticelli was in a museum, not many people would see it. It isn’t so different for me to have it at home, if you think about it like that.”
“That’s why I want to start a gallery.” Delaney leaned forward, excited, but Logan held up a hand.
“Wait. You want to start a gallery? That’s the dream that you’ve been saving for?”
“Yes.” Delaney nodded. “I know it might not sound as exciting as some multinational investment firm?—”
Logan cut her off. “No, it’s amazing. You should absolutely open a gallery. You’d be great at it. You made me actually feel excited about art, and if you can do that forme, you can do that for anyone.”
“Really?” Delaney bit her lip. “Sometimes it feels like such a silly dream, when all my siblings are off in such solid jobs.”
“Don’t feel that way. Do you think anyone was supportive ofmewhen I decided to skip college and turn down a job at my uncle’s auto-repair shop so that I could become an investor?” Logan shook his head. “They weren’t. But I knew what I wanted to do, and I made it happen. Which is clearly exactly what you’re doing, too.”
“Thanks.” Delaney tilted her head. “I… Thanks.” Logan’s words meant a lot to her, more than she was willing to let on. She believed in herself, and she believed in her dream, but there had been many times she’d felt so far from ever owning a gallery that she’d almost wanted to give up. And there had been many other times when she’d wondered if she was even the kind of person whocouldopen a gallery — after all, most gallery owners she knew came from a very different background. The fact that Logan believed in her without a flicker of hesitation meant something. For all that they might have very different perspectives on life, Logan was very successful, and if he believed in her, that made Delaney believe in herself more, too.
“So, tell me, what kind of gallery do you want to open?”
“I think you can guess. I’ll sell paintings, of course, including to wealthy investors such as yourself. But what I really want to do is create a space where people can learn to tell their own stories about art — and not just the kind of people who’d usually go to a gallery. I want schoolchildren and low-income families and all kinds of people to feel welcome. I want people to learn that they have something to say about art. I want people to experience a story as they walk through my gallery, and I want them to leave with a new perspective.”
“Such a low bar,” Logan joked, his eyes dancing. “But truly, Delaney, I’ll come to your gallery in a heartbeat. If there’s anyone who can make all those things happen, it’s you.”
“It’s not just a dream, either. I have plans — how to advertise to people who usually wouldn’t come to an art gallery, how to set things up nicely, things like that. I have a list of artists I’ve worked with before who’ve agreed to work with me. I even have a few spaces lined up — although I can’t quite afford any of them yet.”
“Will you be able to now, after you get your payment for evaluatingThe Cherished Infant?”
“Yes.” Delaney bit her lip again. “I will.”
“Good.” Logan sat back, a light smile on his lips. “I’m glad. I can’t wait to see your gallery.”
“It’ll take a while to get it up and running, but I promise you’ll get an invitation to the opening. Assuming you leave your phone at home.”
“Scout’s honor.” Logan held up three fingers. “No phones.”
“Good. And how about you? What are you planning once we get back to New York?”
“My plans are a little different.” Logan grinned. “I’m going to hold an event for potential investors. Ideally, I’ll showThe Cherished Infant,but even if that’s a bust, I have a few other nice pieces lined up. The event should have the feel of a private and exclusive evening, but, of course, it’s a lot of work to set up.”