Fearless (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

A week went by, and then two. I saw Luke every day for our sessions, and saw Nottingham a few times a week. As little as I possibly could, really, but I felt that I needed to keep that connection going. Nottingham had mentioned that he would be speaking to his partners about Luke’s work, and, thus far, there was no mention of that. So, I felt that I needed to keep up with Nottingham, and, if he still didn’t mention featuring Luke in one of his galleries, then I would bring up the subject once more.

In the meantime, though, my parents were moving into their place in Montauk. I was excited for them to move there, actually, because I really wanted to see them more. Plus, I was dying for Luke to meet them.

I brought this up during one of our sessions. There still was an enormous amount of sexual tension between the two of us, as I wanted to ravage him every time I saw him, and I was pretty sure that he felt the same about me. But he still kept his distance from me.

I started to think that maybe ambushing him at his bar was a bit of a mistake, as I saw his apartment before he was really ready for me to. I knew that he was embarrassed about his living conditions. As much as I wanted to scream out loud to him about how much it didn’t matter to me that he was broke, I didn’t think that would do any good, so I just didn’t broach the topic any more with him.

But I did manage to convince him to see my parents with me. “My parents are moving to Montauk,” I said to him, as casually as I could. “They want to see me, of course. They’re going to take me to dinner at Eleven Madison this Friday night. I would absolutely love it if you could come.”

His face got beet red. “I’d love to meet your parents, Dalilah. Perhaps I could join up after dinner and meet you guys for a drink or something? I mean, I’m so sorry, but I don’t have proper clothing for that place. I don’t own a suit or anything.”

Of course, dummy. Of course he doesn’t have clothes for that place.
“Well,” I said. “You look like you probably would wear the same size clothing as my father. You’re the same height and same build and everything. Maybe he could bring an extra suit for you?” I looked at him hopefully.

He seemed hesitant. “God, that is so embarrassing to ask for that. But, if it means that much to you, then, sure, sure. Your dad can bring one of his suits for me. I might even get a haircut. And, you’ll find that I clean up nicely.”

Inside, I was jumping for joy. Luke was going to have dinner with me and my mom and dad! I just knew that my dad was going to love him. My mom, too, but my dad especially. My father was such an amazing artist, and he was really going to get Luke, I just knew.

“Yay!” I said to Luke. “I’ll call my dad immediately and tell him to bring something for you.”

So, it was set for us to meet mom and dad that Friday night at the swankiest restaurant in town. I couldn’t wait.

∞

But, before I saw my parents, I had to see what Nick was wanting. He had left several messages for me to call him, messages that I had been ignoring. I knew that his next step would be to call my father, though, so I reluctantly gave him a call.

“Dalilah,” he said, picking up the phone. “Thanks for finally getting back to me.”

“Well, I figured that I should call you, seeing as I’m going to be seeing my dad this Friday night. I didn’t want you talking to him before I could talk to you. So, what’s up?”

“I’m not going to beat around the bush. You shouldn’t be seeing Blake Nottingham. Ever.”

“I figured that was what this phone call was about. Give me the dirty on him.”

“He’s a pervert. He saw you at a party that I was throwing, and started asking everybody in the party about you. You were only 17 at the time, and he was 27. I wanted to break his legs that night.”

“I know about that,” I said. “He told me all about that.”

“And you still want to see him?”

“Yes,” I simply said. “I do.” I didn’t want to go into it with him exactly why I wanted to see Nottingham. It wasn’t his business.

“Okay, then,” he said. “Listen, I’m not one to repeat gossip, but I promised your father that I would look after you as much as I could. So, I need to warn you. I heard that Nottingham was into BDSM, pretty hard-core.
”

I rolled my eyes.
Another revelation designed to shock, and I already know all about it.
Still, I decided to humor him. “Oh? And how to you know this?”

“A good friend at work goes to a fetish club and sees Nottingham there all the time. From what I understand, he doesn’t go easy on his submissives, either. Stay away from him, Dalilah, unless you’re into that. Which I would like to think that you’re not.”

“I’m not,” I said. “Well, okay, then. I appreciate you looking after me, I really do, but I’m all grown up now and can make my own decisions. I love you, though, you know that.”

“I love you too, Dalilah. Your dad would kill me, though, if he knew that I withheld pertinent information from you about somebody you are apparently dating. I know that I can’t force you do to anything, but, please, Dalilah, reconsider going out with that man.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “Well, if there isn’t anything else…”

“No,” he said. “But take care.”

“You too. It was really good to run into you guys.”

“Keep in touch.”

“I will.”

At that, we hung up.

I took a deep breath. Nick gave me no new information, of course. And, as much as I wanted to tell Nick the real reason for my dating Nottingham, I didn’t. I guess I really didn’t want Nick to know about that manipulative side of me. I wanted him to always see me as the good girl that I was when I was living with him.

Of course, he knew differently, because Nottingham had apparently put the bug in his ear about my drinking heavily and sleeping around. Which made me think that Nick and Nottingham, in general, were on reasonably friendly terms. They probably were, but Nick no doubt drew the line about a guy like that dating me. It would almost be as if some guy that I cared about as a friend dated Alaina. I wouldn’t be down with that, at all, because of the way Alaina ate men for breakfast. So, I could see why Nick gave Nottingham the stink-eye. I also didn’t blame him for that.

So, big whoop, I thought. Nick doesn’t want Nottingham dating me, and for good reason. Well, he can join the club.
I
didn’t want Nottingham dating me, either. And I knew that I wouldn’t be dating Nottingham for much longer. The time was going to come when I would try to oh-so-sweetly remind Nottingham that he was going to talk to his partners about featuring Luke in one of his upcoming shows, and, hopefully, that would happen.

What I didn’t know was that my intervention wouldn’t be necessary after all. To my surprise and delight, I soon found out that Nottingham was going to do exactly as I wanted, without my having to say another word about it.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Luke

I was increasingly falling very deeply in love with Dalilah. Much to my own chagrin and dismay. If I could, I would stay far away from her, because she represented disaster for me. Somebody that I could never really have, yet I was continually pining away for – it felt like such a fool’s errand, no matter how many times she tried to tell me that she felt the same way about me as I did about her.

What was great was that she not only was inspiring my art, but she was also inspiring my songwriting. I found myself writing love song after love song, fancying myself to be the next Lennon/McCartney after all. Some were sweet ballads, others were grungy rock songs, but all were supremely inspired. Who knows? I thought. Perhaps that would be my way of making my millions.

And, if I made my millions, I would marry that girl immediately.

So, that was really the goal. Find some way to become wealthy. Because I didn’t want to be some fool who was struggling on a middle-class income even. That wouldn’t do. Dalilah was used to luxury and opulence and a certain pedigree. A pedigree which I didn’t yet have, but hoped to obtain one day.

Yet, I was far, far away from even a middle-class income. So, being with her was SO out of the question, at least until I could figure out a way to make my millions.

I had sent my songs to every top producer I could think of. I Googled them, and did the querying and cold-calling. No dice, of course. Songwriting was like art, really. You have to get really, really lucky to make it. You pretty much have to sacrifice a goat or something. And I didn’t want to sacrifice a goat. I liked goats.

Then, one day, a call came in that changed my life.

∞

It was the Thursday before I was due to meet Dalilah’s parents. I was going crazy with nervousness. I was quite sure that the father would automatically assume that I wasn’t good enough for their daughter, since I didn’t even have enough money to buy my own suit. The mom, too, although I automatically felt more comfortable about meeting Dalilah’s mother, as Dalilah told me that her mom grew up as broke as my family. I imagined that perhaps Dalilah’s mother might have become a snob through getting wealthy, but Dalilah assured me that wasn’t the case.

“You don’t understand my mom,” she said. “She briefly divorced my dad when she was pregnant with me. Long story. Anyhow, when she divorced him, she went to work at Whole Foods to support herself. Even though dad gave her a shit-ton of money to live off of. And that’s typical of her mentality. She still thinks like her working-class parents. That’s why she’s so flipping cool, and also why my dad loves her. Because he’s as unpretentious as she is. So, relax.”

Relax. Easier said than done. I wondered how I would feel if I was a bajillionaire and some broke artist was dating my daughter. Not that Dalilah and I were dating. Crazy thing was, we were definitely in love, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually say that she was my girlfriend or even that I was dating her. But, whatever we were, I didn’t think that, if I were Dalilah’s dad, I would be very happy about a guy like me hanging around my daughter.

But, things did get much easier for me later on that day.

I got home, and laid down on my couch, dreaming of Dalilah. It was exceedingly difficult for me to be around her, especially since she was naked in front of me every morning. She was flawless. There was no other way to put it. Perfect skin, perfectly toned, not an ounce of fat on her, and perfect breasts. I dreamed of being with her night after night, so I also dreamed of being wealthy enough to deserve her.

Then, I saw that somebody was calling. I didn’t really recognize the number, but I picked it up anyhow.

“Luke Roberts,” I said.

“Hello, Mr. Roberts,” a vaguely familiar voice greeted me. “This is Blake Nottingham.”

“Oh, yes, of course. You probably are checking on the progress of the Dalilah portrait. It’s coming along well. You may see it if you like, but you’ll have to come to my apartment.”

“I’m quite sure that it is satisfactory. And, no, I don’t usually like to see my commissioned work before it’s completed. That’s not why I was calling.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, feeling intimidated. This guy was so brusque and abrupt in his speech. He perpetually sounded pissed-off, which he probably was.

“I’m a partner in the Matthew Marks Gallery
in Chelsea. I trust you’ve heard of it?”

Matthew Marks? Of course I had heard of it. That was one of the best galleries in the city, and it worked with established artists from all over the globe. There were four Matthew Marks galleries in the city, and one that just opened up in LA. So, yeah, I wouldn’t consider myself an artist if I had never heard of that gallery.

“Yes, of course,” I said, still feeling mystified on why he was calling me. He surely wasn’t calling me to invite me to have a showing there. That would be like some struggling bar musician getting a gig in the Madison Square Gardens. Never going to happen. “Of course, I know that gallery, I mean those galleries. Do you need me to be a cater waiter there or something for one of your galas?”

He snorted a little. “No, although I suppose you could do that. But, no, my partners and I would like to feature you in our upcoming show that centers around images from the music industry. I was quite impressed with your panels on ballerinas and
musicians. I talked things over with my partners, and they’re all in agreement. I need approximately 10 of your paintings delivered to me immediately. Choose among any of your paintings that center around the theme."

I almost fainted dead away right there. I blinked my eyes rapidly. “I’m so sorry, I thought you said that you wanted me to have a showing there.”

“That’s exactly what I am saying. Deliver those paintings to me by Wednesday of next week, please. The show will be in December, so you have a little over a month. If you compose any other paintings that fit the theme before the show, then I would need those as well.”

And, just like that, he hung up.

I stood there, staring at the phone, feeling that I was dreaming. What? I was getting a showing at the best gallery in the city? Me? Goddamn, I never thought that something like that would happen for me. And just when I was ready to throw in the towel and head to Maine to work for my pop.

Shaking, I immediately called Dalilah. She picked up immediately. “Luke,” she said. “My parents are here. We were just talking about you. Here, let me put my dad on.”

“Oh, Dalilah, thanks, but can I talk to you for a few minutes first?”

“Of course. What’s up?”

“You will never believe what just happened. Never in eleventy-millions years.”

“What?” She sounded extremely eager to hear my news.

“Nottingham. He’s giving me a showing at the Matthew Marks! The Matthew Marks, Dalilah! I mean, every art critic in town will be there. Art critics from around the world. Not to mention patrons and benefactors. Oh my god, I think I got my big break!”

By now, I was breathing heavily as the news started to sink in. If this goes well, I would be on my way. On my way to getting
established internationally and maybe even becoming successful enough to make Dalilah my wife.

To my surprise, tears were streaking down my face, even though I rarely cried. When I found out that my mother was killed by a random mass shooter in a McDonald’s ten years ago, that was the last time that I cried. And now I was really crying
again.

I couldn’t even hear Dalilah screaming, which she was, I soon found out. “Luke, I don’t believe it! I mean, I do believe it, because you so deserve it, but I can’t tell you how happy I am! Oh, my god, this is the greatest news that I have ever heard. Ever!”

Both of us started laughing wildly, and I started to dance around the room. I just couldn’t believe it. The gods were finally smiling upon me. Finally.

All at once, I couldn’t wait to meet Dalilah’s parents.