Page 77 of Sawyer
“Beverly? Oh, wow!”
She picked up the phone and sat up. “My father wasinvited, of course, but we ran into her at another party last night, and she made sure to invite me. That’s not a problem, is it? Sticking to my no-work rule and all.”
Was she being coy? He didn’t think so. Her hosting his art at her gallery was like a wrapped holiday gift under the tree, only they both knew what was inside. “I don’t see why it’s a problem, no.”
“Good. I promise not to monopolize Beverly and gush about how much I love you. We’ll keep it professional, I swear.”
Thank God, although at some point Beverly was going to learn about their personal relationship. He needed to talk to Brooke and Axel about navigating that one since they had some experience with such things. Then he and Phoebe would discuss it too. “You really missed your calling on the stage. I know you won’t talk about personal stuff.”
“You’re so naïve about the art world sometimes, Horatio. Beverly adores personal stuff. You should see her fluttering around my father like a butterfly, hoping this once he will open his petals to her.”
“Ugh! Phoebe, I didn’t need to know that.”
“She’s wanted him both as a client and a lover since forever. I told you art is incestuous, Horatio. Another reason you need me. I’m like your Madison for the art world. Cynical. Suspicious. Street smart. I’ve always gotten hit on by young artists who want me to show their work, but it’s gotten so much worse on this trip now that I have the gallery in Paris.”
“You’re kidding!” Okay, he was shocked. “Do you mean?—”
“That they’re willing to worship this gorgeous body with their every ounce of manhood to get a show? Yep. Or have me pose for them, of course, because my beauty knows no bounds? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had an artist tell me I’m his new muse.”
He gulped. “Ah…about that. I know I mentioned this before, but you have inspired most of my new paintings. In fact, you’re in all of them, although it’s not completely obvious it’s you since I paint Impressionistic.”
Her burst of laughter calmed his sudden anxiety. “You did tell me, which I appreciate. Of course I’ve inspired you. Horatio, you’re in love with me.”
Falling back against the bed, he held the phone out with his hand. “I’m glad you’re not upset by any of it. Because after hearing that?—”
“Upset? Don’t be silly. You’re nothing like these jerks. Besides, you paint your best when you paint what you love, and you really love me. Your paintings must be masterpieces!”
He was laughing now. “With you in them, of course they are!”
“But it’s not only me. Did you not break out when you painted Nanine and your female roommates? I know we’ve never talked about this because of our agreement, but that’s why I believe you caused such a stir with theLe Mondearticle. Your heart was in every brushstroke. Now that I know you and that heart, I know how powerful it is. I can’t wait to see how you painted me. Are you sure you haven’t done a nude on the sly?”
He should have known she’d circle back to a topic this juicy. “You know I haven’t. When I do, I’ll ask you. A nude is pretty personal.”
“I will have to pose for it, you know.” She playfully ruffled the sheet. “I can’t have you painting my breasts wrong. I’ve always wondered howthe real woman in Édouard Manet'sOlympiafelt about his depiction. A girl thinks about these things.”
Did all women? He had no idea, but he knew he loved that she did. “This is yet another reason why I love you. Okay, I need to go before all this nude talk gets me hot.”
“I’m already there,” she purred.
“Stop.” He was laughing and a little hot too. “You have fun tonight, and I’ll see you tomorrow. I am planning on picking you up?—”
“No! Sawyer, that’s crazy. I’ll call you after I shower and change, and then we’ll feast. In more ways than food… Stay home for me. I usually look like a rag doll after a transatlantic flight. This way, I’ll be all clean and glowing when we meet.”
He frowned. “All right, but only because of your rag doll argument. I want you to feel comfortable.”
“Have fun at Thea’s wedding.” She blew him a noisy kiss. “Tell everyone hello from me, especially the happy couple.”
“Will do.” He gave in and blew her a kiss too. “I love you. See you soon.”
“Love you too. Bye, Horatio.”
God, he couldn’t stop grinning when he got off the phone. Even the walk from his bedroom to his studio to pick up Thea and Jean Luc’s gift didn’t raise his blood pressure. He remembered the sweaty palms and the near-fainting he’d experienced the night he’d given Nanine her portrait. He felt none of that as he held the wrapped painting he’d done of Thea and Jean Luc. He’d captured them in a photo on one of their walks along the Seine, Thea leaning her head against his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her. He’d painted it last week, praying it would dry in time, which it had, deciding he could give them no better gift. Of course, he was going to ask them about loaning it to him for his first show, but he didn’t think that would be a problem.
As he left the studio, he really did want to slap himself on the back. He’d never felt as comfortable in his own skin as he did now. He’d fully and completely become the man he’d always wanted. He thought of the Mouton motto and how it applied to him.Yes, I am Sawyer, he thought and headed out to join the pre-wedding festivities.
The restaurant was closed, of course, this being Sunday. ButBrooke was upstairs in Nanine’s apartment helping Thea get ready, along with Nanine. The rest of them were gathered in the kitchen. Madison said the preparations upstairs were too much girl action for her, which made the guys laugh, but Sawyer suspected she’d ducked out because she wanted to oversee the caterers as they unloaded the food for the dinner afterward.
Jacqueline was doing a last-minute check on the wine and spirits she’d ordered while Dean walked around with Pierre on his shoulder and sang, “Here Comes the Bride.”
