Javier and Benson walk in the room first, carrying the easel and cardboard boxes, followed by Aiden. Javier does not look like Javier. He is wearing a button-down pale blue shirt over a dark pair of jeans I have never seen before. His only dress shoes are polished better than the brand-new hardwood floor.
He marches straight to me and sets the box of supplies at my feet. Wordlessly, he takes something out of the box. My white sheet. I almost collapse with relief. He throws it over my shoulders, not looking below my chin. I clutch it over my chest for dear life. If I were not en déshabillé, I would hug him. He must have known I’d fall apart. He gives me a nod and a small shrug. I nod back but then I notice Aiden.
His jaw is sharp, posture rigid, eyes dark, glaring at Javier’s back. Before I can breathe, he flashes to my side. His shoulders twitch as he stands closer to Javier than I’ve seen him stand to anyone, except myself.
“If you don’t want to do this anymore, I can cancel it.” His voice is even, except the slight drop in cadence at the word cancel.
Two hours ago this would have been a gift. Now, it feels like a stab in my stomach. Not so much canceling the painting, but leaving him.
“Of course I do. I’m just putting on my work uniform.” I smile, pointing at my sheet. He searches my face, perhaps for confirmation.
“So, Mr. Hale, what do you have in mind?” Javier interjects politely.
Aiden tears his eyes from me and looks at Javier. “I’ll give you full creative license, Mr. Solis. My only conditions are that she is in that attire and you use the same theme and colors as the others.” I’m not surprised to hear his voice back to cold and detached.
Javier nods and walks around the room, looking at it differently than I do, and probably differently than Aiden. He runs his hand over the walls, the furniture, the curtains. I know him enough to know that he is smelling, listening and maybe even tasting the faint sandalwood scent in the air.
As he caresses the chaise, he asks again, “Do you want me to use the furniture as part of the message?”
“The message?”
“Yeah. Every painting has a message. Given the furniture choice, this one is easy. She can stand or she can sit. Stay or leave. Or she could lounge for a while. What do you prefer?”
I grin proudly like a PTA mum. Javier knows his art.
Aiden measures Javier. “You’re the artist. I’ll be interested to see the resolution myself.” He gazes at me then, and his words from earlier ring in my ears. I shouldn’t. Is that it? A compromise between should and want? Is that the fantasy he is asking Javier to memorialize?
“All right.” Javier nods. His eyes squint and focus on the chaise. I’m willing to bet my next thirty days that he does not choose it. It’s too obvious for his style.
“Now, some business details,” Aiden says. “Of course, you know Feign is expecting payment for this painting even though it’s obvious who the real artist is. I’m sure you agree it’s best not to give him reason to retaliate against either you or Elisa.”
A shiver runs through me. Aiden is right. If Feign doesn’t get something for this, he would report Javier to ICE for theft. Javier swallows hard—his own fear well masked under his politeness.
“He said he pays you a salary,” Aiden continues. “But we all know that’s a lie. So I plan to pay you the same commission that I’m paying Feign—”
“Mr. Hale, no—” Javier starts to protest but Aiden puts up his hand to stop him.
“I want you to take what you deserve, Mr. Solis. On this point, I will not negotiate.”
I want him. Right here, right now. Not because of the money but because he gave Javier some recognition. I know what that means to Javier. One look at his face and I see the same appreciation I feel.
“Thank you, Mr. Hale.” Javier looks self-conscious, his eyes drifting to his polished shoes.
“My pleasure. Now, given your circumstances, I’m sure you understand that’s a significant amount of money to be paid under the table. I’ll consult with my lawyers about the best way to handle it, but for your part, from a legal standpoint, it would help if you thought of the painting, not as work, but as a gift to Elisa and myself.”
I tingle at the sound of him and me together. Javier’s forehead creases—did he hear what I did?—but he nods.
“A gift then,” he says.
Aiden nods back, but his eyes are on me. Thank you, I mouth and he smiles.
“Ready to strike a pose?” Javier says.
“Yes,” I answer with a smile, determined to make this as easy for everyone as possible.
“All right, lean back on the chair,” he says. I was right. Not the chaise.