Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,25
time. I need to see your work.”
“I understand, and you won’t be sorry. Why don’t you come by tomorrow to see some pieces?”
***
After Jessica and Samson dispensed with the contract and he left, Izzy didn’t waste any time. “Girl, you weren’t kidding when you said he was good-looking.”
“I'm telling you, I couldn't have made him up if I tried.” Jessica followed Izzy back into her studio.
“And holy charming. I thought Jason ‘On’ was a sight, but that guy takes the cake. Makes me fantasize about all kinds of things.”
Jessica smacked Izzy on the arm. “You already have your too-good-looking-for-words bad boy. Let me ogle mine.”
Izzy shrugged. “Just saying. I'm married, not dead.”
Jessica frowned. “There was just something a little off about him.”
“Really?” Izzy raised an eyebrow and put a hand on her hip. “You discover that after you sleep with him?”
“No, not like that. Remember, I have excellent crazy-dar. If they are crazy, then I immediately want to have their babies.”
Izzy laughed then got back to work. “So what's the problem?”
Jessica reached for the fleeting thread of what was bothering her, but apparently it had been slathered in bacon grease, and she couldn't grasp it. “Ah, I wish I knew. It's like he was too slick and charming. On Friday, he was super controlled. It's kind of why I even gave him a shot. I wanted to mess him up. He seemed so still.” Until he danced. “Today, he was just so loose and slippery. Less intense somehow. Does that even make any sense?”
“Yeah, actually it does. It's kind of like Jason in the early days. There was this kind of persona he put on for the public world, but in private he was very different. It used to give me whiplash. But obviously, he had a good reason for it. Too many people get close, then you start to feel exposed.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“You okay with managing him?” she asked as she went back to unpacking her latest piece from her last show.
“He's good. Like really good. And he works the crowd like a rock star. All without anybody even seeing that pretty boy puss of his. Maybe that's part of the appeal. To separate himself from the artist. Cause you should have seen all the crazy women there trying to get a piece of him.”
“All that without seeing him?”
“Yeah.”
“Then looks like you have the makings of a star on your hands.”
“Let's hope so. I need to see the actual work he produces first. It would be ideal if it was actually good and not just shocking and provocative. I can market the performer, but I can sell the artist. May—” The front office bells chimed again interrupting her. “He probably forgot something.”
She told herself that she didn't stop in the hallway to recheck her lipstick before going out to see him again. It was all about the little lies she allowed herself.
“What did you forget? You already have my last name this ti—” She halted at the sight of her stepfather standing in the foyer. “Karl, what are you doing here?” Running up in her bare feet, she hugged him. “God, it's good to see you. It’s been like three months. Every time I come by to check on you, Mom says you're traveling or out of town.”
He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “Hey, Jesse. How's my favorite graduate student turned artist manager?”
“She’s great. She actually just landed a new client that should blow up the art scene. Now how come you didn't call to tell me you were coming? I could have taken you to lunch.”
“Actually, Jesse, I can’t stay. I’m here to drop off a check for the benefit. I won’t be in town for it.” Jessica’s father had run an artist’s endowment and upon his death, she’d taken it over. Along with her mother, she was throwing a benefit party for the endowment. If things went well with Samson, she hoped the board would make him a featured artist. The full effect of the Stanton name behind him would catapult him into the rich and famous category.
“What? No. The Stanton Endowment for the Arts annual benefit isn’t for another two months.” Of all her stepfathers, Karl had always been her favorite. The one most like what her dad had been in private moments. And the one who wanted nothing from her mother other than her love. “Surely you can change your plans. Who do I have to call and yell at?”
“I'm sorry, sweetheart.