Page 6 of Caper Crush
He does not look thrilled about the possibility of seeing me again. His facial expression says resigned—at best. He nods. I have a sneaking suspicion he will definitely not be around when I come by later.
But then he smiles slightly and says, “Bye, Mom!”
I shake my head and walk quickly away. That’s probably the most I’ve talked to William in years. I’d written him off after overhearing him discussing asset impairments accounting with his then girlfriend at one of my uncle’s parties several years ago. He’s much more playful than I’ve given him credit for.
Chapter two
Backatmyapartment,the blank canvas taunts me.You call yourself an artist?
Three floor-to-ceiling windows with indigo curtains, currently tied back, frame the north wall of our living room, which also serves as my art studio. We have one long, oak table in the middle and a small couch off to the side with the TV, but the rest is my space. The two walls are covered with my paintings, vivid splashes of color humming. Two easels stand in front of the window; a few paintings lean against chairs. I can’t decide if they’re finished yet. Sometimes I have a hard time deciding when a painting is done.
My phone rings.
“Congratulations on the sale. So now you have time to create more paintings, right? We need a good surplus if the Vertex Art Exhibit is a success,”Jade, my agent, says. Jade is coordinating with the Vertex curator. We met in college in an art history class. She wanted to be an agent, and I wanted to be a painter. It was a match made in heaven, especially because it seemed like I was going to break out quickly. But I didn’t. She did. She’s now representing several big names, but mine on her roster of clients is a black mark. I’ve told her she can take me off. I hate feeling like her charity case, but she says she believes in me still. And I hope that in five weeks, when the Vertex show opens, her faith in me will be justified.
“Yes, I’ll cut back on my waitressing jobs.” I ignore the empty canvas on my easel.
“Have the movers picked up the paintings yet for the Vertex show?” she asks.
“They’re looking for parking right now. I’ll bringPlaying Around 1:30right after they leave withNew York FriendsandGoing for It 10:50.”
BothNew York FriendsandGoing for It 10:50hang on the wall in front of me. The first one in the series of three,New York Friends, is a portrait of three women laughing. I was trying to convey the emotional love behind their friendship through their facial expressions, gestures, and the colors. InGoing for It 10:50, I wanted to evoke the same emotion through color, texture, shapes, and brushstroke, but completely in the abstract.Playing Around 1:30,the transition piece that links these two, is half-abstract and half-figurative and shows my transition from figurative to abstract. I gavePlaying Around 1:30to my uncle. I could never sell it. It’s like my first child.
“Playing Around 1:30is still at my uncle’s apartment,” I say. “But he told me it’s wrapped up and ready to go, along with the Kimimoto. I’m dropping the Kimimoto off at Vinnie’s gallery so he can show it to potential buyers.”
“Make sure you carry it carefully,” she says. “You can’t be in the Vertex Art Exhibit withoutPlaying Around 1:30. That’s the transition piece.”
“I’ll take a taxi.”
“I can’t believe they’re selling the Kimimoto.” Jade sighs. “I wish I had a buyer so I could get the commission. Kiara would buy it in a heartbeat if she had half a million dollars.”
Uncle Tony and Takashi bought the Kimimoto painting in Japan about ten years ago when the artist was up and coming, but Kimimoto is well-recognized now in art circles. He had even been included in a recent exhibit of contemporary artists at the Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo. Uncle Tony and Takashi were selling their Kimimoto to buy their dream house in Upstate New York.
“I wish they could sell it to Kiara,” I say. My roommate Tessa’s older sister, Kiara, is a total mentor to me. Her favorite painter is Kimimoto.
“Anyway, I’ll email you my first pass at the description of your three paintings for the Vertex Art Exhibit. I’ve included the lines from your favorite review: ‘Whereas before Ms. Miranda Langbroek flirted with color fields in the background of her portraits, inPlaying Around 1:30, she brings it to the forefront—and what a talented breakthrough it is.’ Let’s hope we top that one with the Vertex show reviews!” She hangs up.
Yes, I have that review memorized—and framed. It’s the best one I’ve ever had and sharply contrasts with some earlier ones (“a hack,” “flat,” “relying on her connections”). As the stepdaughter of the Manhattan Borough president, I had a lot of publicity before I was ready.
But then my breakthrough as a top artist didn’t materialize.
The Vertex Art Exhibit might be my last shot.
The flip-flop of slippers announces Tessa’s arrival in our combination living room/art studio. I turn around to say hi.
“Aargh!” Tessa spills some of her tea from herI’m A Lawyer, Let’s Assume I’m Always Rightmug. “You need to warn me when you’ve done something freaky to your face.”
“I should remove this makeup.” I slip into the tiny, white-subway-tiled bathroom that’s next to our living room and wipe off the foundation.
Tessa follows me. She’s dressed in a T-shirt and yoga pants, like me. My wig is back on its stand, and I’ve changed my clothes, but I’ve left my elderly lady face on. Strangers sometimes take us for sisters, even though she’s got blonde hair. We’ve been friends for so long that we have similar expressions and mannerisms.
Leaning against the doorway, she watches me. “Are you still having trouble painting? You stared at that canvas for hours last night. What’s going on? You usually don’t have problems.”
“I know.” I rinse my face with cold water. I was sure the sale would clear my block. But now, in front of this canvas, I’m stuck.
“You’ve been painting so much lately,” Tessa says. “I know you’re excited about your upcoming breakthrough exhibit …”
“What if it’s not a breakthrough? What if my paintings get terrible reviews?” My bare face stares back at me from the mirror. “And what if itis? I don’t know which one I’m more worried about.”
