Page 17 of Keeping London (Flawed Heart)

“What?” I tilt my head in question.

“The sculpture—it’s a bird, not a newspaper.”

I turn to the awkwardly shaped piece of plaster, squinting my eyes to study it. “That’s not a bird.”

“Yeah, it is.” London giggles.

“Maybe a phone book or a grocery bag blowing in the wind. But a bird? I don’t think so.”

“Who would do a sculpture of a phone book? No one even uses phone books anymore.” She laughs. “It’s a bird, I swear.”

“Well then, it’s a freaking ugly bird.”

“I’m sure the artist who made it doesn’t think so,” she protests. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Loïc. Art is subjective.”

“That might be true, but I doubt anyone here thinks this sculpture of a newspaper is pleasing to the eye.”

“It’s a bird!” London giggles.

“So you say.” I wink. “Let’s go see what other inspiring pieces we can find around here.”

“Okay, but let’s go to the bar first. I want a glass of wine.”

“There’s a bar at an art museum?”

“Of course. They put a makeshift one in here somewhere. Do you think all these people got dressed up just to look at art?”

She weaves her arm through mine once more, but this time, I follow her lead.

“You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah?” she asks.

She stops in front of a painting that I’m quite sure is an abstract tree, but for all I know, it could be the solar system.

“I don’t get this whole benefit thing. I mean, if all these people were really invested in raising money for a cause, instead of spending elaborate amounts of money on fancy clothes, limos, alcohol, you name it, wouldn’t it have been a better idea to just donate that money to the cause in the first place?”

“Maybe, but that’s not how it works.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because rich people want a party. They need a reason to donate. They need their friends to see them here and know that they donated. If you just write a check from your living room, no one will know you gave money. But everyone here knows we’ve donated.”

“That’s fucked up, London.”

“Why?”

“Because, if you care about a cause, you should donate because you want to help, not because you want other people to think you’re generous. I just don’t get that mentality.”

“I understand that. But you and I grew up with different groups of people. Right or wrong, the people I grew up with, the people my dad does work with, do care about appearances.”

I narrow my eyes toward London, letting out a sigh.

“Listen, you’re a better person than most people here. I know that. Don’t think about the hoopla of it all. Just think of this as a party, a fun occasion where we get to dress up and have a great night out. You and I have never done anything like this together. And, not to mention, I’ll donate money to any cause that puts on a party where I can see you looking all dapper and hot as hell. ’Kay?”

A smile breaks across my face. “So, you’re really digging the tux, huh?”

“Heck yeah. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted you more.” She smiles widely, her full lips shining with the lip gloss that I want to kiss off.

---