The Genius and the Muse (15 page)

Javi glanced up as she drew nearer, examining her before returning his eyes to the story about halted residential developments. She was wearing a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a small blue tank top. His eyes lingered on her legs, wondering how they had remained unmarked as she stumbled through the cement blocks, rebar, and sheet metal that littered his space.

“You need better shoes in here. Boots or tennis shoes or something. I’d rethink those shorts, too, but they’re your legs.”

She ignored his barking orders and set her camera bag down as she sat across from him. “Good morning to you, too. No Sex Pistols today?”

He grunted, “Not exactly the best thing for a hangover.”

“I like Iron & Wine, too.”

Of course you do.
He brushed a hand across his face and exhaled. “Goody for you. So, what’s the project?”

Javi was never a fan of small talk, so he appreciated when Kate immediately launched into a description of what she wanted to do, which involved posing herself in various parts of the warehouse. She wanted the ruined, industrial look as a background, and thought the light would be easier to control indoors. As she elaborated on what she wanted to accomplish with the series of self-portraits, Javi allowed his mind to wander, knowing that he would agree to pretty much anything she wanted.

Just keep talking so I can watch your lips.

He’d thought about Kate Mitchell far more than he should have in the past month. In fact, ever since the phone call at his sister’s house, Javi had been forced to admit that his interest in her was decidedly nonprofessional.

“—I’m going to New York in a couple of weeks with Susan, but if I could get started before I go—”

As he listened to her explain her goals for the project, Javi found himself fascinated by the distinctive curve of her lips and the contrast of the rose hue against her pale skin. She had a sprinkling of freckles against her nose and cheeks as if tiny sparks had sprayed against her skin, marking her.

Where else do you have freckles, Katie?

He scowled. Javi was frustrated by how attractive he found her. Kate’s hair reminded him of a flame, not the sharp, hot flame of the welding torch, but the cooler diffused flame of the annealing torch he used for silversmithing, which heated a piece of silver to red-hot, only to let it cool to its softest, most malleable form. His imagination suddenly provided him with a vivid picture of how her hair would look spilling down her pale back.

How far would that hair fall? Would it brush across…

He forced himself to concentrate so he could listen to what she had planned.

“—making myself a part of the framing instead of the focus, though, at times that would shift. Of course—”

He realized it would be sheer madness to imagine she could be as attracted to him as he was to her. Kate Mitchell was beautiful in a way artists dreamt of. She was also young and, he was fairly certain, inexperienced. He, on the other hand, was in her own words “brutish-looking,” twelve years older, and carried more tattered baggage than the thrift store down the street. While Javi wasn’t a self-conscious person, he had no illusions about his own desirability.

“—and because you have such a variety of materials in the warehouse, I wouldn’t need to worry about using things and then having them lay around or go to waste, because—”

Javi watched her with a measured gaze, more careful than ever not to give away his own interest. What had he been thinking, offering his warehouse to her? Not only did he like to be left alone while he was working, it would be a strange sort of torture to have to see this distracting creature in every corner of the space he spent the majority of his waking hours.

All those surfaces…

Javi refocused on what she was saying and was reminded why he found her so enthralling and why, in the end, he knew he would have offered her anything she asked.

Kate was brilliant.

But even more… she had guts. Her vision reminded him of Reed’s in its clarity, but with an entirely different focus; and she had an openness and vulnerability his friend had never allowed himself in his own art.

“—so I really think with the variety of materials you have here, it would be ideal. I know this is your workspace, and I would totally understand if you didn’t want me here, so please believe me when I say I wouldn’t be offended at all if you say no or change your mind. I would totally understand… Or if you wanted to work out some sort of schedule with me so I don’t bug you while you’re working!” She leaned forward with a hopeful smile that almost knocked him over. “That would be fine, too. The layering idea I have means that I would need to do a number of shots over a time, so—”

“Yeah, it sounds fine, Kate,” he broke in abruptly, suddenly desperate to escape her presence.

“Really? Do you want to work out a schedule or anything?”

“Uh… no.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I think it would be better if you only worked here while I was in the building. I know you’re a friend of Dee’s, so it’s not like I don’t trust you around my stuff. It’s just, on the off chance that something shifted or… yeah. I just don’t like the idea of you here by yourself if you might need help or got hurt. It’s, you know, like an insurance thing.”

Javi, you’re an idiot.

“Oh.” She looked shocked. “I hadn’t even thought about that. I guess you’re right. I mean, I don’t have an assistant or anything, so—”

“I can keep an eye on you.”

I’ll watch you so much it’ll probably drive me crazy.

He shrugged and tried to look disinterested. Javi noticed a slight flush color her cheeks when he glanced at her and wondered if he had inadvertently offended her. He looked away to stare at his paper again.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Thanks.”

He continued staring down, sneaking quick glances at her. “No problem. Why are you going to New York?”

“She blushed again and he clenched his jaw, trying not to stare. “Susan Rhodes invited me, and I’ve never been. She kind of implied that she might introduce me to Lydia Collins, which would be huge. She’s your agent, too, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“So that’s why. And I’ve never been. I really want to go.”

“It’s crowded and the people are snotty.”
And I want to walk through the sculpture garden at the Museum of Modern Art with you.

“Well, I want to visit at least once.”

“You going to try to see Reed?”
If that asshole takes you to MoMA, I will never speak to him again.

“I’ll ask,” she said, “but I’m not counting on it. It would be great to ask him some questions for my thesis, but I’m sure he’s busy.”

Javi did nothing but grunt and continue looking at the paper. He had no idea what he was supposed to be reading, but he knew he was going to end up calling both Lydia and Reed before she left.

“Can I bring my stuff in? Is there a good place to store it?”

Javi waved toward the back wall, and the door to the small office where he kept some of his personal work. “You’ve seen the back office. Just put your stuff there while you’re working. There’s some old desks there. You can use those, if you want. There’s plenty of room. It’ll be out of my way.”

“Okay,” she breathed out, and a gorgeous smile finally crossed her face. “Thank you for this. I really appreciate it.”

Her smile knocked the breath out of him, but he managed to choke out, “Yeah. It’s fine.”

“I’m so grateful. This is—it’s the first time I’ve been really excited about a project since… well, I’m really excited about it.” Her eyes darted away from his suddenly intense gaze.

Javier Lugo, you are a masochistic idiot.

He just stared at her, wishing he could convince himself to look away.

“You’re welcome, Kate.”

Part Eight: The Agent

CHAPTER TWENTY

Manhattan, New York

July 2010

“
Y
our portfolio is… interesting.”

“Is that a good ‘interesting’ or a bad ‘interesting?’”

Lydia Collins glanced up from Kate’s portfolio and then down again, flipping another page over as she perused the young photographer’s work.

“I can’t decide whether I like that you aren’t intimidated by me,” she mused, flicking a piece of lint off her cream suit. It may have been blistering hot in New York that July afternoon, but Lydia’s jacket was free of wrinkles, her smooth skin was polished, and not a piece of her dark hair was out of place.

“I
am
intimidated by you. I’m just good at faking it.”

They sat in the small conference room of the agent’s office downtown as she thumbed through Kate’s student portfolio with focused concentration. She smirked a little at the girl across from her. Kate sat as still as she could. She knew she had the nervous habit of tapping her foot, but she was attempting to curb the habit, so as not to appear uncomfortable.

After a while, Lydia closed the portfolio and scrutinized her, as if examining a piece of art for purchase. Dee and Chris had always spoken warmly about their friend, but like everyone else from their group at Foothill, they all spoke about the woman with a kind of detached respect, as well.

Lydia Collins, Kate realized, was the one who got things done. She was the business woman. And Kate may have been an artist, but she was enough of her father’s daughter to realize that if she really wanted to be a successful photographer, and not end up working for a surf magazine or shooting weddings, she needed a Lydia Collins.

“You need me,” Lydia stated bluntly, as if reading Kate’s mind. “I think Chris and Dee were right about you. You’re very good. You might be great; that remains to be seen. You’re very young, but that can be an advantage, too. And you’re pretty. As much as it may irritate me, that matters, too. I need to know what kind of life you want.”

“Excuse me?” Kate asked, attempting to be polite as her heart raced in excitement.

“You don’t need to be excused, you need clarification. Be precise.”

Kate rolled her eyes, which made the agent’s mouth lift in an almost imperceptible smile. “Fine, Ms. Collins. What do you mean by asking me what kind of life I want?”

“That’s an excellent question, Kaitlyn. I like it so much, I’ll even let you call me Lydia. I need to know whether or not you would be willing to relocate, for one. Southern California isn’t a bad base to have, though, so we could work with that if you wanted to stay there.”

“I hadn’t really—”

“I need to know if you are willing to travel on a regular basis. I need to know what your goals are. Basically, I need to know where you would like to be professionally ten years from now, because that affects what kind of choices you and I make for your career in the next few years.”

Kate stared at the brusque woman with her mouth gaping a bit in shock. “Does that mean you want to represent me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you joking?”

She frowned. “I have a dry sense of humor, Kate, but it’s not
that
dry.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yes, well… yay.” Lydia said, curling her upper lip into what might have been a smile.

“I can’t believe this,” Kate breathed out.

Lydia looked at her, frowning a little. “You’re not a… hugger, are you?”

“Normally I am, but I can wait on that if you’d like.”

“That would be best. You’re staying with Susan, correct?”

“Yes. Should I call her or something?” Kate’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“No, but Susan has always been a hugger. Save it for her.”

Kate could no longer hold in her excitement and she broke into a huge smile. “Lydia, I—”

“You’re excited. I’m excited. We’re all very excited. Now, where do you see yourself in ten years? You never answered me.”

Kate stared at the tiny intimidating person, truly panicked for the first time since the meeting started. “Do I have to tell you right now?”

Lydia finally laughed a little. “No, but you do need to start thinking about these things soon. I’m not going to ask you to sign any papers right now, since you’re a friend of the family, so to speak, but you do need to sit down and think about your future.”

The agent’s expression turned serious. “You have time. Finish your thesis. Graduate. You know a lot of working artists. Take advantage of their experience. Talk to them. If you have a significant other, talk to him or her, but you do need to make some decisions.”

Kate nodded seriously, suddenly cognizant of the huge turn her life could take with only a few words. She felt as if a whole new world had opened up for her since she saw the snapshot in Professor Bradley’s office, and she tamped down the feeling of panic that started to swell, choosing to focus on her excitement at finding an agent who wanted to represent her. She looked at Lydia and held out a hand to shake. “Thank you, Ms. Collins—Lydia. This is huge for me.”

“Well…” Lydia shrugged a little. “Since we’re being up front, I’ll tell you—I’m bored. And when two of my favorite artists give me a personal recommendation, along with an old friend who I respect a lot, I pay attention.” She sat back and relaxed a little in her chair. “I’m genuinely looking forward to working with you, Kate.”

“Really?” she smiled. “Susan and Vanessa recommended me?”

“I don’t represent Susan. She’s just a close friend. Vanessa and Javier Lugo recommended you.”

“Javi recommended me?” Kate was shocked, and she noticed Lydia raise a curious eyebrow.

“Indeed he did. He said you reminded him of Reed O’Connor, which is a fairly extraordinary statement for him. The jury is obviously still out on that one.”

“Really?” She knew she didn’t currently sound like the brightest bulb in the box, but she was shocked—and more than a little touched—that the sculptor had spoken so highly of her.