Page 24 of Sawyer
Brooke watched as she set her café aside and faced them.
“I appreciate that, but it’s not the only modus operandi. I want to host new artists. Ones who are fresh to the scene. Who have something to say. That is very much how I feel about your friend, Dr. Jackson. His passion both for his subjects and his art were obvious in the two portraits I saw at Nanine’s.”
“But you didn’t see them until after you got into Nanine’s for dinner,” Madison said with an edge to her voice. “After theLe Mondearticle.”
“Yes, theLe Mondearticle pointed me in Sawyer’s direction, but I immediately went online to see if I could see the art.” Her smile bloomed across her face. “Your restaurant patrons posted everything from the food they were gobbling up to Nanine’s new décor. You know, the photos of Sawyer’s paintings were the most commonly shared images beyond the food. People were entranced by his art. I could see why. That’s how I knew Sawyer had a talent beyond even what theLe Mondecritic had implied in his review. Do you think Ispend my afternoons knocking on closed restaurant doors on a Saturday? My instincts were humming, and they were right.”
Dean was smiling, of course, clearly enchanted. Madison’s flat mouth hadn’t shifted. Kyle was tapping his thigh as if undecided. Brooke understood why—she felt the same way. “We also believe Sawyer has a great talent,” she said carefully, “but as you know, he is going to find an agent, and whoever he chooses will help guide him.”
Her eyes twinkled. “I know how it works. But what makes me different is that I’m new to the scene. I want Sawyer to be one of my first showings. I want to establish my gallery as being younger and hipper than the branch in London. I can bring in those London and New York clients. To Paris as well. Like I told Sawyer, I’m tenacious. What I didn’t mention is that I’m also a great networker.”
“That isn’t a surprise at all, Phoebe,” Kyle conceded. “You came down at practically midnight and made us a café while showing us your gallery. Not everyone would do that.”
Her stiff posture relaxed. “It helps that I live upstairs and heard you through the open window, but I’m glad you had the chance to see the gallery. You should want Sawyer to have the best partner for his first showing. It’s essential for an artist starting out. I happen to believe that’s me. I want to help him have a sustained career because one show won’t do it.”
Brooke pursed her lips as that reality washed over her. So far, she hadn’t thought about the long game for Sawyer, but they had to make a plan. “It’s the same in fashion,” was all she said, prompting the others to glance at her.
By the way Kyle’s mouth tightened, she knew he’d realized they had more work to do, too. Well, that was fine. They would work with Sawyer on everything. No doubt, Axel would have thoughts.
“Yes, it is. With all the arts, fashion included. There’s a lot of building after the first show. One agent can’t do it alone.You need well-known art collectors from around the world. I have those connections. More, Iwantto do that.”
“But why?” Madison shot out. “You just met him. Isn’t a new artist a risk? Being that you’re so young and a woman…as you said.”
“Touché.” Phoebe bit her lip, and Brooke knew she was weighing whether or not to answer. “Oh, fuck it. I’m not going to play it safe here. I want to because I sense Sawyer is not completely sure of himself or his art.”
No one confirmed it. That would be disloyal as well as unprofessional.
“I watched him work along the Seine.” Phoebe wandered over to one of the sketches. “I’ve watched someone I care about go through that torture despite being acclaimed. It’s a tough road.”
Brooke wondered if she was speaking of her father or someone else. A past lover?
She turned to face them again, the portrait light bright on her face. “Some time ago, when my parents had hopes that I could be a genius painter like my father, I struggled in ways you cannot imagine. If I can help make that easier for someone who’s a good person—and Sawyer is, I can tell—then I’m happy to do it. Especially if it means I also get to sell great art.”
Brooke wanted to believe her. “Sawyeristhe best. That’s why we’re here.”
“He’s lucky to have you.” Phoebe walked over and took a sip of her coffee. “As for going out with him, I would have wanted to even if he was something like a…taxidermist.”
Brooke sputtered out a laugh, and Dean said, “I can’t say I would go for that one.”
Phoebe only smiled. “I know you’re worried, but I’m really infatuated. Sawyer is a wonderful mélange of humility, kindness, and handsomeness besides being really smart, funny, and interesting. That’s really refreshing in this jadedworld where there are a lot of men who are dogs and only interested in themselves and what life can give them. Present company excluded.”
“Thank you,” Dean said predictably.
“Tell us what you’d do to keep the personal and professional sides separate,” Kyle pressed.
“Very well.” She set her café aside. “Like I told him. On our date, I don’t plan to talk business once. There are plenty of other things we can talk about. Which I prefer because most people want to only talk about art with me once they find out who I am.”
Brooke got that. In her previous career in fashion journalism, she’d often wondered if fashion people could speak of anything else.
“Now that I know Sawyer can identify quotes, I might have a trivia night with him.” She rubbed her hands together in obvious delight. “Who knows? The point is that there is Sawyer the artist and Sawyer the man. Maybe it’s because I grew up with the great River Kennison and Dad, but I know how to keep things separate in my head. Because they are two people in many ways. Also, famous creative types need to have people in their lives who let them express all the different parts of themselves, so they won’t get crushed by all the pressure and attention.”
Brooke thought of Axel. He was a famed interior designer sought out by the rich and famous, but he was also the very private solitary man she loved. She studied Phoebe, seeing the wisdom evident under her bold style. Brooke realized they also had rather created a similar structure for Sawyer in some ways. They barely knew him as the art professor who taught young minds and wrote scholarly articles while playing the tenure game—save his use of quotes and love of philosophers. Who he was with them was the tortured artist with the dream as much as the unique, sensitive roommate they all loved. They’d all been doing their part to provide asacred space for him to become the man he wanted. That Phoebe wanted to do the same moved her greatly.
When no one responded—Brooke knew they were still taking it in—Phoebe gestured philosophically. “That might sound strange, but it’s how I see it. You approach them differently. Because that’s what fame does. It creates a new persona that is and isn’t real.”
Brooke finally nodded. “You make some good points, and like Kyle said, you didn’t have to be nice to us. Also, you seem to understand Sawyer. It sounds like you even have something in common. We should let you get to bed. Thank you for showing us your gallery and for speaking with us.”
“It was my pleasure.” She took their coffee cups and juggled them into the other room like a Parisian server before returning with a bright smile. “Come anytime. I’m usually awake until midnight. We can make a habit of it. Art by Night has been successful in other cities. Maybe we’ll start a craze here.”
