“Now open your eyes, and look.”
Carpets of tall, golden grass, shifting in color with the rhythm of the breeze. Sunlight glinting on the ocean. Sleek, feathered bodies gliding overhead. Leaves swaying gently in a private dance. The pattern of the clouds in a cerulean sky.
“This place is magic, Gen,” Kendrick said. “That’s what you see on my canvases. There’s magic here.”
She knew he was right, and she knew she had to bring this same magic to other artists. Artists like Kendrick, who needed to be pushed over the verge.
“I know what I’m going to do,” Gen told Ryan later that day, when he came to her place after his workday was done.
“About what?”
“About New York. About moving.”
He took a deep breath. “I’d better sit down for this.” He sat at her kitchen table and focused those dark-chocolate eyes on her. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“I’m staying.” She felt giddy with happiness, not only with relief because the decision had been made, but also because it was right. This was right. She was home.
“Oh, thank God,” he said. She could see the tension drain out of him as he went nearly limp in his chair. “Are you sure, though? I thought you really wanted it.”
“I thought I did, too. But going out there, spending time there … I remembered the downsides. And there are a lot of downsides.”
He reached out and grabbed her hand, and tugged her down onto his lap. She wiggled a bit, getting comfortable, as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Are you gonna be happy, running your gallery in Cambria? Is that going to be enough for you?”
“I’m not just going to run the gallery.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“No. I’m going to continue the artist’s residency. If you’re okay with me continuing to lease your guest house and your barn.”
“Well, I think we can work something out.” He gave her a sexy grin. “What made you decide all this?”
“Gordon.”
“Really.”
“Yeah. He just … I saw him earlier today. And he …” She found that she couldn't continue, because there were tears in her eyes and her voice was becoming thick.
He rubbed at her back and tucked her head under his chin.
“This just meant a lot to him,” she said finally, when she could continue. “It changed him. I want to do that for other artists. I think it’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“Then that’s what you’ll do.”
Being there with him, thinking about her plans for the future, she could practically hear the puzzle pieces of her life clicking into place. Ryan, her friends, this place. Meaningful work that would bring meaning to others.
“I love you,” she said. She’d felt it before now—known it—but this was the first time she’d said it.
He held her tighter, and she could hear his heartbeat against her cheek. “Ah, Gen,” he murmured. “I love you too.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
She had a lot to do at the gallery after her week-long absence. Alex had done a good job holding down the fort, but there was business only she could handle, and she found that it had piled up while she’d been gone.
She was knee-deep in Excel spreadsheets when Katya called on her cell phone.
“Oh, geez. Katya,” Gen said when she answered the phone. “I was meaning to call you.”
“Antonio needs an answer about the gallery space,” Katya said. “He said, and I quote, ‘Do not let her off the phone until she says yes.’ ”
“Ah. Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint him. I’m not taking the space.”
“You’re not?” She could hear the surprise in Katya’s voice.
“No.”
“Well. All right. I’ll tell him, but he won’t be happy.”
Gen shifted in her chair and moved the cell phone to her other ear. “I’m not sure why it matters to him. I’m sure he can lease the space to someone else. And at a higher price than he was offering me.”
“Of course he can.” Katya sounded impatient with her.
“Then why … ?”
“You’re terribly na?ve,” Katya said.
Bellini had said the same thing. Gen was beginning to wonder whether it was true.
“What do you mean, Katya?”
Katya was silent.
“Tell me,” Gen insisted.
“Antonio wants you in the gallery space so he can have leverage with the Delaneys. Obviously. You can’t possibly think the one purchase was going to be the only one.”
Gen started to feel cold. “What purchase?”
“You don’t know,” Katya said with wonder.
“What purchase, Katya?”
“Your boyfriend made a very large purchase at the show last week. Antonio suggested that it was the only way he’d be in a position to offer you the gallery space at that price. Honestly, Genevieve. Did you think that’s what space in SoHo really costs?”
Gen felt sick. She pressed a hand to her belly, as though that might stop the nausea rising there.
“Genevieve?”
“I just … Let me make sure I have all of this straight. Bellini told Ryan that he would give me the gallery space at a rock-bottom price if he made a big purchase. And Ryan did it.”
“That about covers it, yes.”
“How big a purchase are we talking about?”
With amusement in her voice, Katya said, “I saw the check, Genevieve. There haven’t been that many zeroes in one place since the size tags at Fashion Week.”
“I … God.”
“I’ll tell Bellini his cash cow has left the pasture.”
“You do that.”
Gen ended the call, then placed the phone on the desk in front of her and stared at it.
Alex walked past her and did a double-take.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.” Gen kept staring at the phone.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She stood up, stared at the desk a while longer, then snatched the stapler off the desk and hurled it into the wall, where it left a small dent in the drywall.
“Uh oh,” Alex said, and quickly found something to do in the back room.
She tracked him down at the ranch. She went to the house first, but of course he wasn’t there in the middle of the day. Sandra said he was probably out in the northwest pasture. She put on her athletic shoes and tromped out there, only to find a bunch of lumbering black cows and no Ryan.
She finally found him in the new barn, where he was making cooing sounds to a cow. The cow was shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another, occasionally letting out a mournful moo, as Ryan crouched down and did something to her that undoubtedly would be hard for Gen to get out of her head if she knew what it was.
With a head full of steam, Gen stomped down the rows of clean metal pens, her sneakers crunching on a layer of dirt and hay, until she reached him.
“What the hell is this I hear about you writing a giant check to Bellini?” she demanded. She was breathing hard, only partly due to the long walk out here. Her heart was pounding, and her voice sounded slightly hysterical.
“Gen.” Ryan stood up, patted the cow, and came out of the pen to stand in the aisle with her.