In a Badger Way (Honey Badger Chronicles #2) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,135

Shen began but the kid ignored him and escorted his sister into the MacKilligans’ garage, which he’d made into a temporary art studio for his work.

Once they went inside, Shen turned to Zhen. Not even knowing Kyle, she cringed.

* * *

Oriana had her feet up on the small desk Kyle had in his studio, leaning back in the office chair, when the door opened and he walked in with an Asian woman who looked a lot like Shen. Maybe too much. Some features did not work on both men and women. But, despite that, Oriana liked the woman’s style. Everything she wore was designer, including the Jimmy Choo shoes.

“My work is right over here,” Kyle said, moving across the garage.

The woman stopped and studied Oriana.

“I know you,” she said.

“Do you?”

“I’ve seen you dance. In Russia.”

“Right. I danced with the Bolshoi a few years back.”

“You did Giselle. It was very impressive. Especially for a dancer of your age at the time.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Kiki Li. Shen’s sister.” Oriana liked that a woman who had made her own imprint on the world, whose very name carried power, added “Shen’s sister” to her intro. She found that kind of cool.

“Oriana—”

“Jean-Louis Parker. I never forget the names of talented people.”

“Yes, yes, she’s great,” Kyle said, coming back and taking Kiki’s arm. He led her to his sculptures. He had a room full of small, medium, and large pieces. His older works were in storage somewhere. He wouldn’t tell anyone where because he didn’t want them to be stolen “by you commoners because you need money.”

And while Oriana sat there, watching, Kiki went from piece to piece. She asked questions, had Kyle pull a few of the smaller ones forward. She took her time, didn’t seem to mind the heat of the garage—there was no air-conditioning—and didn’t rush.

After more than an hour, the pair ended up near the desk Oriana had been lounging at.

“Well?” Kyle asked, smiling. Eager.

“Your work is technically brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

“But soulless.”

Oriana winced, looking up from the book she’d been reading on her phone.

“Soulless?” Kyle repeated, appearing stunned.

“I look at your work,” Kiki said placidly, with no real emotion, “and I don’t feel anything. There’s no sorrow. No pain. No joy. Just . . . cold, soulless beauty.” She shrugged. “You can sell all these pieces and make a fortune. If that what’s you want. But if you want to be more than just a rich artist pumping out meaningless crap for the masses, you’ve got work to do. You need to find the soul of your art. Make me feel something, Kyle. I want to be able to say more than ‘it’s pretty.’”

She patted his shoulder. “Good luck.”

Then she and her expensive Jimmy Choos walked out of the garage, and Kyle was left standing there, staring at the spot she’d occupied.

Oriana swung her legs off the desk and stood. She thought about just leaving. Most Jean-Louis Parkers were not good with raw emotions. She really wished her sister Toni was here. Or their dad. Even Coop. But they weren’t here. It was just her and the younger brother she used to throw down the stairs of their house on the West Coast. At least until her mother told her she had to stop.

Then she thought about Svetlana and how that bitch had been critiquing Oriana’s work “to help, darlink. Just to help.” Although Oriana didn’t think Kiki—unlike Svetlana—was being mean, attempting to make Kyle insecure. She was just being direct. But sometimes direct could really hurt.

She turned away from the door and walked over to her brother.

“You don’t have to listen to her—”

“She’s right,” Kyle said, shocking her. She’d thought for sure he’d dismiss Kiki the way he’d dismissed all of his critics over the years. “She’s right. I see it now.”

Kyle looked at her with wounded eyes. “I don’t want it to be just pretty, Oriana. I want my work to have meaning for the ages. I want it to live for centuries.”

“Then find your soul. Make your art for the centuries.”

He nodded, but she hated the way he stared at the floor. She could literally feel her brother’s devastation. So she did what she’d never done before . . .

Oriana wrapped her arms around her brother’s shoulders and hugged him hard. And she knew she’d done the right thing when he hugged her back, burying his face against the side of her neck.

* * *

“What did you say to him?” Shen asked his sister when she came out of the garage.