Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,60

a pedestal, and Jessica squealed. “Holy shit, Eli. Is that one of the pieces I saw the other day? This is—”

Unable to stop the rush of emotion, he clamped his jaw shut and stared at the offending piece. It was the last one he'd done before he'd quit sculpting. The last one before Sam had gone to prison. The pain sliced deep as Jessica walked around it, touching and examining his work. How the hell could Samson have done this to him? Easy, you accused him of using again. Eli felt raw, exposed, like he’d just gone to work completely buck-ass naked.

“Jesus, Eli, you certainly love the female form. There is something so raw and still so delicate about this.”

He cleared his throat. She was staring at him, expecting him to say something. Anything. But all he could do was stare at the piece. The end of his wild days. When he'd grown up. He had no words.

A light click click sound brought him out of his reverie. Jessica was standing in front of him snapping her fingers. “Yo, Earth to Eli. Want to tell me why you're doing your best walking dead routine?”

When he finally found his voice, he didn't recognize it. It was so raw with emotion. “I'm not showing the sculpted piece.”

“Are you insane, Eli? That should be the center piece of the whole show.”

The hell it would be. His brain scrambled for a reason. “I-I'm not ready to show it.”

“What the hell are you talking about? It's already been cast. All you have to do is name it. I'm not letting you get away with this shit. I know you’re a sensitive artist, but sometimes as your manager I know best. Left to you, you wouldn’t ever show anything. You hired me to make your career sparkle, and this piece helps me do that. What do you call it?”

The word was out of his mouth, before he even knew his brain had formed the thought. “Imperfection.”

“Imperfection. Fitting. I'm going to want a complete look at all your finished pieces.”

Eli's vision grayed. He needed to breathe. Take a breath man, your brain could use the O2. He drew in a breath and immediately felt better, so he dragged in another one. Samson had done this on purpose. His way of saying, fuck you maybe? Though, subtlety was not usually Sam's style. He would have just busted out a big ol', “Fuck you.” Like that hit to the jaw. No, Imperfections' miraculous appearance said that even though Eli had hurt him, he still believed in him, even if Eli couldn’t return the feeling.

How the hell was Eli going to get away without showing the damn thing? Jessica was stubborn enough to insist, and at this point, regardless of what was going on with Samson or the case, he couldn’t tell her the full truth until this was all over.

Jessica put a hand on his shoulder. “This is for you, Samson. I know how artists can get. Like Erykah Badu said, you guys are sensitive about your shit, but I wouldn’t insist if I didn’t know it was good. You have to trust me.”

He inhaled and let out a slow breath. “And I still need to feel comfortable. It's my soul out there.” Wasn't that the truth?

Surprisingly, she backed off. Putting her hands up, she said, “Okay, fine. I understand. I'll back off for now, but when we have the smaller gallery opening. I want you to consider it.”

Not on your life. But to assuage her, he nodded. Knowing his foul mood was bringing her down when she'd been so happy, he plastered the brightest smile he could muster. “Look, these guys need to set up for me anyway.” He massaged the back of his neck. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

Her smile was bright. “Yep, I have a dress picked out and everything. And don’t worry. This one doesn’t have skulls all over it or anything. I’ll be very sedate and proper.”

“What if I like the skulls?” Her style was a bit gothy punk, but also ultra-feminine.

“And I’ll be on my best behavior, no matter how much I loathe Destiny.”

Eli forced a grin. Her mild jealous streak was cute, but he knew better than to tell her so. “I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow, okay?”

“You, sir, have yourself a deal.”

***

An hour after Eli left, Jessica tried to sort out which pieces would stay in the gallery and which ones would move to the larger venue. She worked