Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
She nuzzled his chest. “You’re still the smartest man I know.”
He snorted. “If I was so smart, I would have found you years ago, when you were Lynx.”
“If you had, I wouldn’t be the same painter I am today. Our pasts shape us, and we’re the ones who have to run with it,” she said, echoing him.
“You would have become the woman and artist you are no matter what happened.” At the smile on her face, he knew how much his words meant to her. “But what will San Holo do now?”
She didn’t pretend not to understand. “I guess I’ve always been afraid my parents would see what I was doing and crush my work like they did before. Being anonymous allowed me to do whatever I wanted. I never had to come face-to-face with someone who said they hated it.”
“But now you have fans,” he said gently. “They want to hear from you.”
“But do I want to do appearances and interviews?” She shrugged. “I’m a little terrified of that.”
He tipped her chin, forcing her to look at him again. “You can take on whatever you put your mind to.” He tapped her chest. “In your heart, you know that.”
“But do I want to?”
“If you want to remain anonymous, I’m behind you one hundred percent.” He would back her no matter what she chose.
“But how can I do that since Hugo’s given everyone my name?” She pointed at her phone on the side table as it pinged with another text. “My phone’s been blowing up.”
“You could paint under another name,” he suggested, knowing even as he spoke that it wasn’t the answer.
“But that’s starting over again like I did after Hugo stole Lynx.”
She was already talking herself out of anonymity, so he played devil’s advocate. “Then be San Holo. Just refuse to do interviews and ignore social media.”
“Or I could have Adrian say Hugo’s claims are total bollocks.” Her Britishisms were starting to come out.
Clay had to say it. “What about walking the walk? Especially after everything you told Dylan and Gareth?”
Saskia rolled onto her back, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately. Lovemaking with Clay was the most amazing of her life. And she wanted him in her life forever.
But that life was changing fast, and not only because Hugo had outed her. Fear suddenly roiled in her belly. “I’m afraid. I have to admit that. Own it.”
He didn’t touch her. She wished he would. But if he did, she’d never get all the words out. “You’re right about walking the walk. But I’m still afraid of getting screwed over by the people I love and trust.” She looked at him. “Not you. In any way imaginable. But it’s like a little kid who almost drowned and is terrified of the water after that. Even though she’s learned how to swim and will never come close to drowning again.”
He gathered her into his arms once more. “I get the analogy. You don’t have to make a decision right now. You have time to think about it.”
She gazed into his eyes, her heart filling up with him. “I love your generosity. I love how you think of everyone else before yourself. I love you.”
They clung to each other, and he whispered, “I can’t let Hugo Lewis get away with hurting you again. Do you understand that?”
She answered in that same reverent whisper, “Absolutely.”
“I’m going to reclaim your art for you.”
She shook her head, her hair cascading over his chest. “A lot of it doesn’t even exist anymore.”
“But you had canvases, right, just like you do now?”
She nodded. He knew so well how she worked.
“It’s your name that’s most important.” After a long exhale, he said, “Let’s talk to Adrian. And Gareth. Together, the four of us will figure out how to recover what Hugo stole from you.”
Oddly, she found she didn’t care that much about Hugo anymore. If he hadn’t screwed her over, she wouldn’t be San Holo. If she hadn’t become San Holo, she wouldn’t have found Clay.
And finding Clay was the most important thing she’d ever done.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As the Saturday afternoon sun crept across Adrian’s office, she hugged Saskia and murmured for her ears only, “I’m so sorry. I know how much this hurts.”
Adrian hated the way Hugo had used her friend, all those years ago as well as now. He hadn’t revealed her identity out of magnanimity. He was simply trying to regain some of the value of his art. Especially the crap he’d painted since he’d torn Saskia’s world to bits.
But this was what Adrian had wanted for Saskia all along—to be public. To step out of her nighttime shadows and claim her name and her art.
Holding Saskia away from her, hands on her shoulders, she said for everyone to hear, “Are you okay?”
From the glow on Saskia’s face, Adrian could see she was fine. Better than fine. Amazing. Because of Clay.