Sorry for the long wait for the chapter. A long week was followed by a shifty weekend.
Once again, hollenheist is the best. She made this chapter readable. (That's what I get for writing on my phone.)
Happy reading!
15
I spend most of the morning and early afternoon working on Edward's commission. Once I'd stopped overthinking and just started painting, it was turning out to be a piece I was extremely proud of. I'd used colors that reminded me of him - deep greens and browns that swirled together on the canvas.
It was an abstract piece that would complement the one hanging in the lobby of their office building, but that still incorporated the colors he'd loved in the painting he'd already purchased.
"Hey, you." Angela greets me with a smile when I come up front. Mondays were our slowest days, so we were alone. Ang had her laptop open in front of her, answering emails. "How's the painting coming? When I looked in on you a little while ago, you were in the zone." She throws a smile at me as she finishes typing.
I lean against the counter, my chin falling into my palm as I yawn. I hadn't slept well the last few nights. Every little bump or movement I heard in the night I thought was my mom, causing me to jerk awake. To say I was on edge would be an understatement. "It's going well. Much better than I thought, actually."
"That's great." She pushes her computer away from her, leaning against the counter across from me. "I'm glad."
I look at her with narrowed eyes. She's antsy, wringing her hands together like she does when she's nervous. Something's on her mind, but she's clearly hesitant to share.
"What's wrong?" I ask, eyeing her warily.
"Nothing's wrong." She answers quickly - too quickly, making my skin prickle. Angela's never been nervous to talk to me before. "There's been something on my mind lately that I want to talk to you about, but I don't want it to seem like I'm overstepping."
"Come on, Ang," I place my hand on top of hers trying to quell her nerves. "You know I'm open minded. Just shoot."
She takes a deep breath and releases it before she continues. "I've been thinking about that story you told me about Rosalie Hale shouting you out, and that's how all of this," she motions around the store, "came to be."
"Okay. So far, not understanding why you're nervous."
"I'm getting to that part."
"Okay." I prop my chin on my hand, giving her my undivided attention.
"I was thinking that we could showcase other up-and-coming local artists. Like maybe put some of their work on display, shout them out on our social media, and maybe do a little biography on them. Each month, there could be a different artist that we partner with. Be like cross-promotion. Our followers and customers are introduced to them, and their followers would then be introduced to you and your work. It would be something that's mutually beneficial - increase their footprint and ours." She rushes, her face scrunching like she feels guilty. "I don't want you to think that I don't think you're good enough on your own, because I do. Your work is truly incredible, and I just want as many people to see it as possible, but I also know how much what Rosalie did meant to you. So, what are your thoughts?"
I let her words sink in. She's right; what Rosalie did for me changed my life. It helped me break into an industry that's virtually impossible to do on your own. If I could give that break to someone else, I would want to do that.
"I think it's a great idea, Ang."
She let's out a relieved breath, "Really? You don't think I'm overstepping?"
"Absolutely not. Marketing and networking were part of why I brought you on, because I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to social media. I'm a terrible Gen Z." I joke. If it weren't for Angela, my individual professional Instagram account, as well as the one we had for the store, would be dormant. She had all the knowledge and finesse when it came to technology. All of that stopped for me at hearting cute dog pictures.
"I'm actually so excited about it." She bounces on the balls of her feet, her hands clasped together under her chin like a little kid. "I think it could mean big things."
"I think so, too." I agree, a feeling of rightness settling in my gut. "Speaking of big things," I look around the overcrowded store. "If we're going to do this, we really need to find a bigger store."
When I'd found this space, it seemed too big, like filling it up was a pipe dream; however, in less than a year, we'd outgrown it. It boggled my mind. When this whole art being my career started to take off, I didn't know that this was what would come of it. I didn't expect that we'd get so many commission requests that we would end up having to create a waitlist. I was truly humbled by the success we'd experienced.
Angela giggles. "You're absolutely right. On the way here this morning, I saw that a store was for lease near Cullen & Volturi, LLC. The place where that boutique used to be, Lulu's or Lala's, or something like that. It's easily twice the size."
I knew exactly what building she was talking about. It was right next to the Starbucks I'd sought shelter in all those weeks ago. It was a massive space, at least in comparison to our current one. It would be perfect for us. Give us plenty of room to expand. Although, I would be lying if I said that half the appeal wasn't its proximity to Cullen & Volturi, LLC.
"Did you happen to get the number?" I ask, already picturing it. It was perfect - that feeling of rightness once again settling over me as my fingertips started to tingle.
"Girl," Angela says, shaking her head and taking out her phone. "You know I did. Do you want me to see when we can take a tour?"
"Yeah." I nod. "Yeah, I do."