The Gravity of Us
Page 28
“That’s fine,” Graham responded. “Enough other people have, so your lack of awareness doesn’t inflict any damage on my success.”
Richard laughed obnoxiously loud and slugged Graham in the shoulder. “That’s funny.” He chuckled awkwardly then slid his hands into his pockets. Richard’s eyes traveled to the glass in my hand and he raised an eyebrow. “Vodka?”
I shook my head. “Water.”
“Good, good. It’s probably best for you to not drink tonight, right, sweetheart?”
I gave him a tight smile, but didn’t reply.
Graham grimaced. “Why’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, well, when Lucy drinks, she becomes a bit…goofy. Very talkative, if you can believe it. It’s like it heightens all of her quirks, and it can be a lot to handle at times.”
“She seems grown-up enough to make her own choices,” Graham countered.
“And her choice was not to drink tonight,” Richard replied, smiling.
“I’m sure she can speak for herself,” Graham said, his voice cold. “After all, she was given her own vocal cords.”
“Yes, but she would’ve just said exactly what I have stated.”
Graham gave a forced, tight grin. It was the unhappiest smile I’d ever witnessed in my lifetime. “Please excuse me, I must go someplace other than right here,” Graham coldly stated, lifting the car seat and walking off.
“Wow.” Richard whistled low. “What an asshole.”
I lightly pushed his shoulder. “What was that? You were a bit aggressive, don’t you think?”
“Well, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how comfortable I am with you being at his place all the time.”
“I’m there helping taking care of Talon, who is my niece, my family. You know this.”
“Yeah, but you seem to have left out the fact that he looks like a freaking Greek god, Lucy. I mean, Jesus Christ, what kind of author has arms the size of the Titanic?” Richard exclaimed, his jealousy loud and clear.
“He works out when he has writer’s block.”
“There must be a lot blocking that writer. Anyway, come over here. There are some people I need you to meet.” He took my arm and started pulling me forward. When I turned around to check on Graham, he was sitting on a bench, holding Talon and staring my way. His stare was intense, as if his mind was running with a million thoughts.
Richard took me around the room, introducing me to a bunch of people who were dressed much fancier than me. Every time, he’d speak about my outfit, mentioning how it was quirky, like my heart. He said it with a smile, but I could sense the frown underneath it.
“Can I take a break?” I asked after speaking to a woman who looked at me as if I were trash.
“Just two more people. This is important—they are the couple to talk to tonight.”
Apparently my break would have to wait.
“Mr. and Mrs. Peterson,” Richard said, reaching his hand out for handshakes. “I’m so happy you could make it.”
“Please, don’t be so formal, Richard. Just call us Warren and Catherine,” the gentleman said as they both greeted us with warm smiles.
“Right, of course. Again, I’m so happy you’re here.”
Catherine wore a fur shawl around her shoulders, and her body was decked out in expensive jewelry, making her smile shine even more. Her lips were painted fuchsia, and she carried herself as if she were royalty.
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Richard. And you must be Lucy.” She grinned and took my hand in hers. “I’ve been asking a lot about the lady in this talented man’s life.”
“That’s me.” I laughed unenthusiastically, tugging on the bottom of my dress with my free hand, hoping Richard wouldn’t comment on it. “I’m sorry, how do you both know—”
“Mr. Pet—Warren is one of the greatest artists in the world, and he’s from Milwaukee, Lucy,” Richard explained. “I’ve told you about him many times.”
“No,” I said softly. “I’m not sure you have.”
“Yes, I have. I’m sure you’ve just forgotten.”
Warren chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, Lucy. My own wife forgets me about fifty times a day—isn’t that right, Catherine?”
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Catherine joked, winking at her husband. While they were nothing but pleasant, I could tell Richard was somewhat annoyed with me, though I was certain I’d never heard of them.
“So, Richard, what’s the next step in your career?” Warren asked.
“Well, I was invited to a showcase in New York City by a friend of mine,” he stated.
“Oh?” I asked, surprised to just be hearing about it right then. “I had no clue.”
“It just happened this afternoon actually,” he said, leaning in and giving me a kiss. “Remember Tyler? He’s going to this big art gala in the city and said I could crash at his apartment.”
“Oh, the Rosa Art Gala?” Warren asked, nodding. “I spent many years at the Rosa. It’s a week of magic. I swear every artist must partake in it at least once. I’ve found some of my strongest artistic influences during those times.”
“And lost plenty of brain cells, too,” Catherine joked. “From paint fumes, alcohol, and marijuana.”
“It’s going to be amazing, that’s for sure,” Richard agreed.
“Are you going too, Lucy?” Warren asked.
“Oh, no. She’s actually running a floral shop,” Richard cut in, not even giving me a chance to answer. I hadn’t even been invited in the first place. “But I wish she could make it.”
“You’re a florist?” Warren asked eagerly. “You should consider pairing with an artist for the floral show that the museum hosts here. You make a floral arrangement, and then the artist paints a piece based on your creation. It’s quite fun.”
“That sounds amazing,” I agreed.
“If you need an artist, let me know and I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure I can get your name on the program, too.” Warren grinned.
“Now’s the time for the most important question of the night: what are you drinking, Lucy?” Catherine asked.
Richard laughed obnoxiously loud and slugged Graham in the shoulder. “That’s funny.” He chuckled awkwardly then slid his hands into his pockets. Richard’s eyes traveled to the glass in my hand and he raised an eyebrow. “Vodka?”
I shook my head. “Water.”
“Good, good. It’s probably best for you to not drink tonight, right, sweetheart?”
I gave him a tight smile, but didn’t reply.
Graham grimaced. “Why’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, well, when Lucy drinks, she becomes a bit…goofy. Very talkative, if you can believe it. It’s like it heightens all of her quirks, and it can be a lot to handle at times.”
“She seems grown-up enough to make her own choices,” Graham countered.
“And her choice was not to drink tonight,” Richard replied, smiling.
“I’m sure she can speak for herself,” Graham said, his voice cold. “After all, she was given her own vocal cords.”
“Yes, but she would’ve just said exactly what I have stated.”
Graham gave a forced, tight grin. It was the unhappiest smile I’d ever witnessed in my lifetime. “Please excuse me, I must go someplace other than right here,” Graham coldly stated, lifting the car seat and walking off.
“Wow.” Richard whistled low. “What an asshole.”
I lightly pushed his shoulder. “What was that? You were a bit aggressive, don’t you think?”
“Well, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how comfortable I am with you being at his place all the time.”
“I’m there helping taking care of Talon, who is my niece, my family. You know this.”
“Yeah, but you seem to have left out the fact that he looks like a freaking Greek god, Lucy. I mean, Jesus Christ, what kind of author has arms the size of the Titanic?” Richard exclaimed, his jealousy loud and clear.
“He works out when he has writer’s block.”
“There must be a lot blocking that writer. Anyway, come over here. There are some people I need you to meet.” He took my arm and started pulling me forward. When I turned around to check on Graham, he was sitting on a bench, holding Talon and staring my way. His stare was intense, as if his mind was running with a million thoughts.
Richard took me around the room, introducing me to a bunch of people who were dressed much fancier than me. Every time, he’d speak about my outfit, mentioning how it was quirky, like my heart. He said it with a smile, but I could sense the frown underneath it.
“Can I take a break?” I asked after speaking to a woman who looked at me as if I were trash.
“Just two more people. This is important—they are the couple to talk to tonight.”
Apparently my break would have to wait.
“Mr. and Mrs. Peterson,” Richard said, reaching his hand out for handshakes. “I’m so happy you could make it.”
“Please, don’t be so formal, Richard. Just call us Warren and Catherine,” the gentleman said as they both greeted us with warm smiles.
“Right, of course. Again, I’m so happy you’re here.”
Catherine wore a fur shawl around her shoulders, and her body was decked out in expensive jewelry, making her smile shine even more. Her lips were painted fuchsia, and she carried herself as if she were royalty.
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Richard. And you must be Lucy.” She grinned and took my hand in hers. “I’ve been asking a lot about the lady in this talented man’s life.”
“That’s me.” I laughed unenthusiastically, tugging on the bottom of my dress with my free hand, hoping Richard wouldn’t comment on it. “I’m sorry, how do you both know—”
“Mr. Pet—Warren is one of the greatest artists in the world, and he’s from Milwaukee, Lucy,” Richard explained. “I’ve told you about him many times.”
“No,” I said softly. “I’m not sure you have.”
“Yes, I have. I’m sure you’ve just forgotten.”
Warren chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, Lucy. My own wife forgets me about fifty times a day—isn’t that right, Catherine?”
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Catherine joked, winking at her husband. While they were nothing but pleasant, I could tell Richard was somewhat annoyed with me, though I was certain I’d never heard of them.
“So, Richard, what’s the next step in your career?” Warren asked.
“Well, I was invited to a showcase in New York City by a friend of mine,” he stated.
“Oh?” I asked, surprised to just be hearing about it right then. “I had no clue.”
“It just happened this afternoon actually,” he said, leaning in and giving me a kiss. “Remember Tyler? He’s going to this big art gala in the city and said I could crash at his apartment.”
“Oh, the Rosa Art Gala?” Warren asked, nodding. “I spent many years at the Rosa. It’s a week of magic. I swear every artist must partake in it at least once. I’ve found some of my strongest artistic influences during those times.”
“And lost plenty of brain cells, too,” Catherine joked. “From paint fumes, alcohol, and marijuana.”
“It’s going to be amazing, that’s for sure,” Richard agreed.
“Are you going too, Lucy?” Warren asked.
“Oh, no. She’s actually running a floral shop,” Richard cut in, not even giving me a chance to answer. I hadn’t even been invited in the first place. “But I wish she could make it.”
“You’re a florist?” Warren asked eagerly. “You should consider pairing with an artist for the floral show that the museum hosts here. You make a floral arrangement, and then the artist paints a piece based on your creation. It’s quite fun.”
“That sounds amazing,” I agreed.
“If you need an artist, let me know and I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure I can get your name on the program, too.” Warren grinned.
“Now’s the time for the most important question of the night: what are you drinking, Lucy?” Catherine asked.
