need you to give it to me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I let you move across the country. That isn’t space enough?”
“Not when you show up at my door. Send emails asking when I’ll be sending pieces your way.” It stifled every creative flare. Made me feel as if I couldn’t breathe.
“I care about you, Brody. From the minute you started with our old crew, I knew you would be the one to go the distance. I’ve fought to make sure you were recognized. If you disappear off the face of the planet, you might not have an audience to come back to.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face, a hint of guilt squeezing in. “Then so be it. Better that than being miserable.” I had enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life. I wouldn’t be buying private jets and houses around the world, but I could live here on my island without worry. And no matter what Lara said, I knew there would always be at least a handful of collectors still interested in my pieces. Whenever I was ready.
Lara stepped closer to me, gripping my arms. “You have too much talent to throw it away. They caught him. Mosely will rot in a cell for the rest of his life. His actions are on him, and him alone. You need to release that guilt.”
I shrugged out of her hold. The people in my life could tell me time and again, but it wasn’t their creations that a madman had turned into his blueprint. “I don’t blame myself.” It was true, but I wasn’t ready to put any piece I had created out into the world either.
Lara sighed. “Fine. At least show me what you’re working on since I came all this way.”
I couldn’t resist the temptation. It was too much of a rush to talk art with Lara. We’d always had a dialogue that seemed to spur me forward in my process. I started towards the sunporch and inclined my head for her to follow. Despite the many false starts I’d had over the past few weeks, I thought I might be finding my way again. And that path meant exploring a lot of new expressions. Some of it was dark, but a lot more was peaceful. Serene. My new surroundings had made their way into my work.
A variety of canvases lined the wall, and Lara made a beeline for them. She didn’t utter a word as she studied them, only issuing the occasional hum or another obscure sound. In all the years we’d worked together, I never could figure out what those sounds meant.
Lara paused in front of the third landscape. A scene of my beach where the surf had risen and looked about ready to swallow a figure whole. “This one. It’s a mixture of the old and the new.” She glanced up at me. “Maybe this place isn’t so bad for you, after all.”
“I told you.”
She looked back to the landscape. “I can sell this.”
“Not so fast.”
“Brody. Let me keep your career alive. I’m not asking you to have a show or do interviews. Just give me a few pieces to slowly dole out over the next year. It will keep collectors’ interests piqued. It might even work to our advantage. Limited supply. Then you can come back with a big splash when you’re ready.”
I was silent for a moment, taking in her offer. A year of freedom for a few paintings. And I owed Lara something. She’d been with me forever, and my career was largely thanks to how fiercely she’d fought to secure opportunities for me. “You can take the landscapes. I’m not ready for anything else. And if you take them, that means you can’t ask for anything else for a year.”
Lara’s lips thinned but she nodded. “Fine. You have a deal.”
I grinned at her. “Was that so hard?”
“You’re my most difficult client.”
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But you love me.”
She scoffed. “You’ll be the reason I meet an early grave. All the stress you put on—” Her words cut off as she slipped out from under my arm and strode towards the piece I’d just finished. It was another of Shay. I’d probably painted half a dozen in the last week alone. Apparently, I was a man possessed. “This, Brody. This is magnificent. The landscapes are good. Interesting. Compelling. But this is transcendent.”
I followed her to the canvas. This one was of Shay in the greenhouse, the