Painless (63 page)

“I know. I totally have to pee,” I hissed.

“Keep holding it. It’s your job,” he winked.

Brandon came walking up to us. “You’re never going to believe this.” His eyes were on fire with excitement.

“I probably will,” Christos said casually.

“Everything has sold.”

“You mean all of my paintings?” Christos said uncertainly. “Or all of them?”

Christos had less than ten paintings in the show, so that’s probably what Brandon meant. Christos sold more paintings at his solo show last year. But between all the paintings from Spiridon and Nikolos, there were at least sixty or seventy on sale tonight. That was a lot of paintings to sell during a single show.

“No,” Brandon said, “Everything has sold. Your father’s, your grandfather’s, all of it. Well, everything except one.”

I could only assume Brandon meant my painting. It was the obvious one not to sell. Spiridon, Nikolos, and Christos were world famous artists with reputations. The Manos family had a painting legacy, and people wanted to buy a piece of their fame to hang on their walls while it appreciated in value. I was just the girlfriend. I doubted anyone actually wanted my painting. Sure, it made for a good story to go with Christos’ life sized portrait of me, but that was all.

“Which one hasn’t sold?” Christos asked.

I grit my teeth in preparation of the news. I’d get over it. One day, I’d sell a painting at an art gallery show. Just not tonight.

“Yours,” Brandon said.

That’s what I thought. Oh, wait. Was he talking to me, or Christos?

Christos said, “You mean Samantha’s painting sold?”

Brandon scoffed, “Of course Samantha’s painting sold. I sold it five minutes after it was unveiled.”

“What? No way!” Christos blurted.

Okay, my brain must have broken, because I think Brandon just said my silly little fantasy landscape had sold tonight.

Brandon nodded and grinned at me and Christos.

“How much did it sell for?” Christos asked.

Brandon’s smile peeled back charmingly and he said, “Twenty-seven thousand.”

I slapped my hand over my wide open mouth, stopping my broken brains from rolling right out.

Christos grinned at me and rubbed my back affectionately, causing a shiver to run up my spine. “I knew you would,” he said.

“I didn’t!” I said, flabbergasted. “You know what this means?”

“What?” Christos asked.

“I’m going to be able to pay my tuition next year!” I hopped up in the air with my arms over my head. “Yes!”

Christos hugged me and kissed me. “Congratulations,
agápi mou
. It was only a matter of time until you started selling. Didn’t I tell you that when we first met?”

“You did!” I said gleefully. Wow. I couldn’t believe it. My dreams were coming true like I’d never imagined!

I was definitely the luckiest girl in the world tonight!

===

CHRISTOS

“So, Brandon,” I said, turning to face him, “which painting hasn’t sold tonight?”

“Your portrait of Samantha as the fiery angel,” he answered.

“Oh,” Samantha crooned. “I’m sorry, Christos. Your painting of me is so beautiful. I would totally buy it, if I could afford it. Would you take twenty-seven grand for it?” She winked at me.

“Thanks,
agápi mou
,” I said reassuringly. “Save your money for your tuition. Besides, if no one buys my portrait of you, I’ll fucking keep it,” I smiled. “I put my heart into it.” I glanced behind us at the eight foot tall fiery angel winged Samantha portrait hanging on the wall. “Yeah, I would never get tired of looking at it. It’s the real you,
agápi mou
, the one I see every time I look at you, the one other people don’t always realize is there.”

“Oh, Christos,” Samantha sighed, “I love you so much.” She leaned into me and hugged me around the waist.

“I love you too,
agápi mou
,” I said and kissed the top of her head. “Hold on a second,” I blurted, suddenly realizing something. “Brandon, did my LOVE portrait of me and Samantha sell too?”

“Yeah,” Brandon nodded. “For half a million.”

“What?!” Samantha blurted

“Yes,” Brandon’s smile widened. “You heard me right. A half a million dollars.”

Samantha clapped both her hands to her face, “Oh my god! I can’t believe someone bought a picture of you and me nude!”

I grinned at her, “Believe it.” I turned to Brandon, “So, who bought it?”

Brandon’s eyes flashed and he looked away momentarily. “It was, uh, an anonymous buyer.”

I could tell Brandon was hiding something. “Anonymous?” I said sarcastically. “It’s not like we’re selling porn or drugs. You can tell me, Brandon.”

Brandon shook his head seriously, “I was given explicit instructions not to reveal the buyer’s identity under any circumstances.”

Samantha said, “Now I’m totally curious.”

“I can’t tell you,” Brandon shrugged. “It was in the terms of the contract.”

“Terms?” I asked. “It wasn’t Stanford Wentworth, was it?”

“No,” he chuckled.

“Who’s Stanford Wentworth,” Samantha asked.

She’d been spared the torture of enduring Wentworth’s visit to my studio that day he’d said I needed to change up my paintings because they were shit, and had said Samantha’s Calla Lily oil study was awful. Thinking about him now, all I wanted to do was punch his face in then rub it in the pile of money I was making tonight. Then I heard Russell Merriweather’s voice echoing through my head, “
No. More. Fights.”
I smiled to myself.

Brandon said, “Stanford Wentworth is one of the richest art buyers in the world, Samantha. He can make someone’s career if he buys their art.”

“Oh,” she said, “That sounds like a good thing.”

“He’s also a prick,” I said. “I don’t want his sorry ass owning my art. I’m doing fine without him.”

Brandon said, “What if I told you he put in a bid on your portrait of Samantha?”

“No shit,” I chuckled.

“He did,” Brandon said.

A smug smile spread across my face, “I guess he changed his tune about my art.” Knowing it gave me a delicious sense of satisfaction.
 

“Wentworth was one of the early bidders. Once the other buyers started driving up the price,” Brandon smiled conspiratorially, “he was mysteriously unable to get any more bids through to me.”

I grinned back at Brandon. Wentworth had been a prick to him that day at my studio, too. Brandon was blocking him out of the bidding process. Wentworth had a bit of a reputation as a star maker. He would sweep up an artist’s early work, before they were famous, and hold onto it. This would drive up demand on the artist’s work, at which point Wentworth would often sell it for a hefty profit. Fuck him. He wasn’t going to make a dime off my sweat. He’d had his shot that day at the studio and he’d blown it.

“So, Brandon,” I asked, “what’s the status on the bidding?”

“Actually,” Brandon smiled smugly, “It’s turning into something of a heated battle. Two people here tonight have insisted the painting must be theirs, and four other buyers on the phone are calling me every five minutes to find out if they need to raise their bid or not.”

“I hope none of the people on the phone are agents of Wentworth’s,” I said.

“No,” Brandon said, “I know all of them well. We’re in the clear. Wentworth will walk away empty handed after tonight.”

I nodded approvingly.

“Wow,” Samantha said, “If you’re turning buyers away, that means you’re totally popular, Christos!”

“What’s the bid up to?” I asked Brandon.

He grinned, “One point five million.”

“Holy shit!” Samantha blurted.

I felt the same way.

Brandon’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it before turning to me, “Another bidder calls. The price keeps climbing. I’ve got to answer this,” he smiled as he walked off, holding his phone to his ear.

“Christos, that’s insane!” Samantha squealed. “You’re making so much money tonight!”

“You are too,” I said.

“I know,” she smiled. “Twenty-seven grand! I can’t believe it!”

“You’re making a hell of a lot more than that.”

Her brows narrowed, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m splitting whatever I get on my portrait of you, and the LOVE portrait of both of us, with you.”

“What?! That’s crazy. Those are your paintings! I can’t take your money!”

“What do you mean? I wouldn’t have either painting if it wasn’t for you. All I’d have is a self portrait of myself and some paintings of Brandon’s L.A. models. I don’t think there’d be a million dollar bidding war over any of them. You made both paintings special,
agápi mou
. You, Samantha Anna Smith. Because you’re my girlfriend, you’re in the paintings, and you’re an amazing artist in your own right. This is the stuff art history books write about a hundred years from now. The whole story, the whole package. Us. You and me. Without you, I’d be the third Manos. With you and your art, I’m something special.”

“I don’t know, Christos,” Samantha frowned, “it’s so much money.”

“So what? It doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.”

“I can’t take your money, Christos,” she sighed.

“Why not? Let me put it another way. What if I’d painted a portrait of you, spent maybe two or three hours on it, and sold it for, say, two hundred bucks. Would you split the money with me then? I get a hundred for painting it, you get a hundred for modeling?”

She frowned, “I guess.”

“So what’s the difference between that and this?”

“Hundreds of thousands of dollars!” she blurted.

“No,” I shook my head adamantly, “That shouldn’t make any difference. Do you think just because more money is involved you deserve less?”

“Well, no, I guess not.”

I nodded, “In any fifty-fifty partnership, each person gets half, right?”

“But you’re talking about more money than I’ve ever imagined,” she said nervously.

“So what? Don’t undervalue yourself,
agápi mou
.”

“It’s just so much money,” she sighed.

“Half of it is still yours,” I said. “But if you really don’t want it…” I didn’t know what else to say. Maybe she’d change her mind later.

Romeo appeared out of nowhere and said, “I’ll go halvsies with you on your painting of me, C-Man.”

“See?” I said, “Romeo knows his worth.” I gave him a fist bump.

Kamiko stood beside Romeo. She said, “I still can’t believe someone bought that Wonky Kong portrait of Romeo.”

“What?” Romeo scowled, “It’s awesome. And I think whoever bought it got it for a steal at $150,000. I told you someone would pay to have a painting of me.”

Kamiko rolled her eyes. “Wait til they get the portrait into their house and have to stare at you 24/7.”

“You’re just jealous Christos didn’t paint you,” Romeo sneered.

She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.

I said to Kamiko, “I’ll paint you for my next show. We’ll dress you up as one of the Adventure Time characters.”

Her eyes lit up, “Wow, Christos, you’d paint me?”

“Sure,” I smiled. “I’d rather paint a friend over some random model.”

Kamiko clapped her hands together, “I totally want to be painted as Fionna from Adventure Time! I’ll make the costume myself! When can we start!”

“We’ll do it over the summer.”

Kamiko gasped. “That would be so totally awesome, Christos!” Her and Romeo wandered back into the crowd while me and Samantha shared a chuckle.

A few minutes later, Russell walked up to us from out of the crowd. “Congratulations, young man,” he said. “It appears you’re doing rather well tonight.”

“Yeah,” I smiled. “Samantha, you remember Russell Merriweather?”

“Totally,” she grinned, shaking his hand. “Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you too, young lady. Have you been keeping this character out of trouble?” He nodded at me.

“Definitely,” she smiled.

“You know,” Russell said, “I bought one of your grandfather’s landscapes.”

“You did?” I asked. “Which one?”
 

“The one of the valley behind your father’s house at sunrise. I’m always telling Nikolos how much I love the view when I go out there. Since your grandfather decided to paint a picture of it, I thought that would be the next best thing to visiting. I’m hanging it in my downtown office so I can always see it.”

I knew that Brandon had priced that painting at $75,000. “Wow, Russell, that was really generous of you,” I said appreciatively.

“Fiddlesticks.” Russell smiled.

“Fiddlesticks?” I laughed. “Who the fuck says fiddlesticks?”

Samantha giggled at what I’d said.

“I do,” Russell said in his most serious courtroom voice ever, “And if you want to keep your teeth, you won’t make any further issue of it. Are we clear?” He arched an eyebrow, but it only took a second for his face to relax into a big smile.

I shook my head and smiled at him.

“Besides,” Russell said, “Your family has spent plenty of money on me over the years, it was the least I could do.”

“Thanks, man,” I smiled.

"Well, I’ve got to go. Good night, Samantha. Both of you please give my regards to Spiridon and Nikolos,” Russell said before fading into the crowd.

“Russell is so cool,” Samantha said.

“Yup.”

Brandon burst through the crowd a minute later. “It sold! Your portrait of Samantha sold!”

Samantha’s eyes goggled.
 

So did mine.

“How much?” we both asked.

“One point nine million!” Brandon was beside himself. I’d never seen him lose his cool like this. I wasn’t surprised. A sizable chunk of the money we’d pulled in tonight was his.

Samantha threw her arms around me and planted a huge kiss on my cheek before saying, “Congratulations, Christos!”

A second later, my dad and grandad were pushing through the crowd.

“Congratulations,
paidí mou!
” my grandad said, leaning over to hug me. “We heard the news.”

“Thanks,
Pappoús
,” I said.

My dad threw his arms around both of us, “You did it,
paidí mou!
”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,
Bampás
,” I said, looking into my father’s eyes. They were brimming with tears. Just like mine.