Choose Me (The Me Novellas) (4 page)

I took a deep breath. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? After one show? I didn’t know what I’d expected his news to be, but it wasn’t that.

“OK.” I gulped another mouthful of air. “Tell me.”

“A show next weekend,” he said. “In Washington, DC.”

FIVE

Andy stared at me. “Washington, DC?”

I nodded.

“
The
Washington, DC? The one that’s half a continent away?”

Mutely, I nodded again.

He blew out a deep breath and set his smoothie on the table. “Wow.”

“I can’t do it,” I said, shaking my head.

“Why not?”

Where did I start? I had a million reasons not to go. It was too far. It was too scary. I wasn’t ready for that caliber of show. How would I transport my art? How would I leave Andy?

“I just can’t.”

“Stop,” he said. He studied me for a minute. “Tell me exactly what he said.”

I told him. How Yuri had texted pictures of my artwork to a gallery he’d exhibited at. How the owner had loved them and asked immediately if I would consider bringing them to the upcoming show. How she needed an answer today because they had one space left to fill.

“They’re just booking artists now?” Andy asked. “That doesn’t sound very professional. Or prestigious.”

“No, I guess they had someone drop out,” I told him. “Some artist from New York.” Yuri hadn’t offered many details.

Andy nodded. “Ah. Artistic differences.”

“I guess.”

“Did you give him an answer?”

My eyes drifted to the artwork mounted over the fireplace at the coffee shop. A portrait of a man, a close-up of his face. He sported a blue do-rag and a tattoo on his bicep. Dark hair and eyes, like Andy. A soulful expression. His eyes bore into mine and I knew he was waiting for my response, too.

I looked away.

“I tried.”

Andy shifted closer on the couch, so close our legs were touching. “Tried?”

“I tried to tell him no,” I said. “But he cut me off. Told me he was getting on his plane. And that he’d call back when he landed.”

He’d also said he’d make flight arrangements.

For me.

Andy played with his straw while I stared at the unlit ceramic logs in the fireplace. Within a matter  of weeks, they’d be ablaze.

He broke the silence. “You should go.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was studying me.

“What?”

“You should go,” he repeated. “Do the show.”

“I don’t want to.” That wasn’t necessarily true. I did want to. After last night’s success—or rather, the fact that I didn’t flat out fail—I had a little more confidence in myself and my art. But I wasn’t sure I wanted my next show to be halfway across the country.

“It’s the chance of a lifetime,” he said, using Yuri’s words. “And it might help you hit some of those milestones we keep talking about
…
”

“But–”

“There shouldn’t be any buts,” he told me. He swallowed another bite. “You need to do this. For you. For us, even.”

“Why are you so onboard with this?”

“What do you mean?” He squeezed my hand. “Haven’t I always supported you?”

He had. Even when I didn’t believe in myself.

“I don’t know
…
”

He polished off his scone, dusting the crumbs from his lap with his free hand. “Well, you can’t tell him no right now. He’s on a plane. So, I still have a couple of hours to persuade you.”

I smiled a half-smile. “What if I don’t want to be persuaded?”

He grinned. “You’ll let me.”

I didn’t answer, just twisted my mouth and frowned at him.

His expression darkened just a bit. “Of course, we’ll have to set your artist friend straight about a few things.”

“Oh? Like what?”

He stood up and pulled me to my feet. “Like the fact that you are one-hundred percent not available.”

SIX

We drove in silence, the muffled sound of the heater and the faint hum of the radio filling the void. The sun shone bright, a blanket of thinly stretched white clouds dotting the azure sky. It was going to be a beautiful day.

I thought about the phone call the entire way home. Yuri wanted me to go. Andy wanted me to go.

And I was thinking I wanted to go, too.

So what on earth was holding me back?

Andy navigated his car into the driveway, stopping just outside the garage. The dew glistened on the wheat-colored grass, sparkling like diamonds in the early morning sun. A pair of squirrels chased each other around the trunk of the crooked, silver oak in the back yard and a blue jay squawked from his perch on one of the branches. I envied them. They didn’t have monumental, life-altering decisions to make. Their agenda was simple: survive.

He turned off the engine. “You coming?”

I tore my eyes from the tree. “Where?”

“Into the house?”

Katie and Dylan were gone. I vaguely remembered a conversation about some event at DCFS that weekend. Katie had worked in the day care there over the summer, a job that had recently morphed into a full-time position. Dylan had volunteered there for as long as I’d known him. They both loved kids and they loved helping people.

Andy changed into shorts as soon as we got inside. I knew what his plans were—to tackle the yard. There were leaves to rake and gutters to clean. The patio, a wooden deck-like space, needed to be power washed and sealed before winter. He’d be busy all day, which was fine with him. He liked being outside, enjoyed working on things and seeing results.

I did not.

He kissed me before heading outdoors and, before long, I heard the lawnmower power up. Maybe he’d decided to mulch the leaves instead of rake them. I took a quick shower and then buried myself in the kitchen, hoping I could mix and bake all the thoughts out of my head.

Five dozen oatmeal chocolate-chip cookies and a pan of fudge brownies later, I was still thinking about Yuri’s phone call. I didn’t know what I was going to tell him. Part of me wanted to go. A trip to DC, another show, more exposure. But those same things that thrilled me also terrified me. A trip to DC meant getting on an airplane and traveling halfway across the country. Another show meant more jitters and more worries over whether or not people would like my work. More exposure might not be a good thing, especially if people hated my stuff.

I sighed. Three hours had passed since our return from Dunn Brothers and I was in the same place I’d been when we left.

An undecided disaster.

My phone buzzed and I jumped. It wasn’t a phone call but a text.

From Yuri.

Booked your flight for Thursday. Text me your email so I can send confirmation.

I stared at the screen, my mouth open in disbelief. He bought me a ticket? I read the text again, thinking maybe he’d mistranslated. After all, English was his second language.

But, no. There was no other way to read it.

I was torn between outrage and panic. Where the hell did some stranger get off buying me an airline ticket for a show I hadn’t even agreed to go to? We’d had a two-minute conversation, a discussion where I hadn’t given an answer, and he’d gone and booked a flight for me? I tossed my phone on the counter, seething.

“Mmmm.” I heard Andy before I saw him.

He climbed the steps from the foyer entrance two at a time. “What divineness have you baked now?”

I didn’t answer, afraid I would lash out at him.

He joined me in the kitchen and grabbed a cookie off the cooling racks. He ate it in two bites, his eyes closed, a dreamy smile on his face.

“I could eat all of these.” He grabbed another.

I turned to the sink full of dirty dishes. “Be my guest.”

He opened one of the cupboards for a glass and dug the jug of milk out of the refrigerator. “Make any decisions yet?”

I scrubbed harder at the dried dough in the mixing bowl. “No,” I said, my voice curt. I wasn’t prepared to tell him about the text I’d just received. I needed to get a handle on it, figure out how I was going to respond. A string of expletives aimed at Yuri was all I could think of.

“You can’t put it off forever.”

I knew that. Especially since my new friend had apparently already purchased my airline tickets.

Andy moved behind me and his arms encircled my waist. He leaned close, his breath hot on my neck.

“What are you doing?” I asked, irritated.

His mouth found my skin. “Persuading you.”

I dropped the wooden spoon I was washing back into the soapy water.

“All you’re persuading me to do is abandon these dishes.” But I tilted my head, giving him better access.

I could feel him smile. “Mmm. Good idea.”

Thirty minutes later, we were collapsed in a heap on his bed. I shifted so I could lay my head on his chest. Andy’s arm curved around me.

“I love you,” he murmured.

I snuggled closer. “I love you.”

“Tell me,” he said.

“Tell you what?”

He shifted so he was on his side. “Why you’re pissed.”

I sighed.

“You gotta know I can tell,” he commented. He leveled his gaze on me and waited.

I pulled the sheet up over me. “That asshole bought me a ticket.”

“Excuse me?”

I ran my hand over my forehead. “Yuri. He didn’t wait for an answer. Just bought me a plane ticket. Texted me to tell me.”

Anger flashed in Andy’s eyes. “What the hell?”

I nodded. “I know, right?” I took a deep breath. “I mean, okay, so maybe there’s a language barrier–”

“No,” Andy cut me off. “He knew what he was doing.”

“Yeah. That’s what I think, too.” I closed my eyes, trying to stem the anger that was resurfacing. Andy had just spent thirty minutes getting me into a blissful state of relaxation and I wasn’t ready to give it up.

“So, what are you going to do?”

I opened my eyes and stared at him. “Uh, not go?”

He nodded. “Serves him right. Waste his money.”

“I mean, who does that?” I shook my head, feeling the frustration close in. “Who just decides to buy someone an airline ticket? Assumes their schedule is totally free? Decides what’s best for you?”

“Certainly not someone who’s known you for less than a day.”

“Right?” I said. “I mean, I’d be pissed if
you’d
done it!”

Andy grinned. “Don’t I know it.” He planted a kiss on top of my head. “You’re sure this is what you want, right?”

“What?”

“To not go.” He paused. “I mean, you need to be sure before you pick up the phone and call him back. Because, knowing you, you’re gonna go off. And that’s one bridge burned. Permanently. You know?”

Crap. I hadn’t thought of it that way.

“Just how big is he?” Andy asked.

I frowned. “You saw him. He’s as tall as you.”

Andy waved his hand. “No, no. In the art world. His reputation.”

“Oh. I have no idea.” My professional world was tiny and insular. I had no idea what existed outside the building where my studio was, much less the rest of the country.

He sighed. “It’s probably something you should think about. Before you ream him a new one.”

He was right. As much as I didn’t want him to be, didn’t want to think in those terms, I knew I had to. Especially, if I wanted to graduate beyond selling note cards and a few token paintings.

I sat up and reached for my pants.

“Where are you going?” Andy asked.

I pulled my shirt on. “I have a phone call to make.”

SEVEN

“You sure you have everything?” Andy asked me.

I glanced down at my black roller bag and matching carry-on. “I think so.”

We were on the ticketing level of the Minneapolis-St.Paul airport. I had my boarding pass in my hand and we stood just to the right of the main security line. Passengers hurried by, clutching bags and children, queueing up in line.

He nodded. “OK.”

I’d gotten out of Andy’s bed and called Ellen last Sunday to ask her about Yuri. What she’d told me sealed the deal. He wasn’t small time. He had a country-wide network of friends and connections. When I explained what had happened, she’d wasted no time in telling me what to do.

Go.

“If this is something you’re serious about,” she’d said, her voice firm. “You need to go. These kinds of opportunities aren’t a dime a dozen. They’re a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

It was exactly how Yuri had described it.