Billionaire Daddy's Little Artist

Chapter 2 : Rising Star

*Lily*

The din of the chatter in the room escalated, and the string quartet diminished. I thought Eva had said this was her father. I smiled at Eva, who prattled away at our first meeting in the dorms.

I laughed, then looked for his response. His stare was transfixed like he was trying to place how we knew each other.

“Have we met?"

“No, Daddy. You've never met Lily. When I moved into Shetfield, that ungodly, tiny dormitory, you were out of town," she said. She looked at me. “I was hardly ever there, was I?"

“No, you were never there." I laughed. From the soles of my feet to the top of my head, an electric current seemed to buzz straight from this man to me.

“How do you do, Lily?" He leaned to hug and air kiss me as Eva had, which seemed to be the custom with the extremely wealthy sector.

Another charged jolt coursed through my body when he touched my arm and drew me to him. I felt the heat from his core and breath against my face. The effect made me swoon, and for a moment thought my knees might give out. What was wrong with me? Was it too much champagne? I needed to pull myself together fast. This was my big night; I couldn't risk getting sick or having to leave early.

“Welcome! Thank you both for coming. Eva, it's been too long!"

Her father's presence loomed beside her, and I sensed him staring intently at me again; with all of the artwork in the room, why was he looking at me, and did Eva notice?

Eva discarded her leather jacket and Chanel bag on the high table beside us. She wore a cream silk blouse, slacks, and a gold Gucci belt. “I want to buy one of your paintings. Show me which ones are yours."

“They are right here," I laughed, slightly embarrassed of my Blue Grotto collection. It was yet another reason I was grateful my deeply religious school-teaching parents couldn't attend; I knew they would disapprove. “These works are together, and the other ones start there."

The room had filled to maximum capacity now, with most of the viewing stationed in my area. Hannah's work drew a modest crowd, but Edwardo's seemed to lack the same enthusiasm as ours.

Just then, I heard my roommate, Adam's, exuberant voice calling me from across the room. He and Patrick, dressed mostly in black, headed toward me.

“Thanks, guys, for coming!"

I braced for Adam's tight squeeze, which could break a person's spine if caught unaware. “We're so proud of you!" He smelled heavenly of light masculine cologne and expensive hair products.

Adam worked for a theater company that produced off-Broadway plays. Patrick, an accountant for the same business, wore dark jeans and a maroon button-down. No matter how much Adam tried to revamp his wardrobe, Patrick still looked like he had just got off the bus straight from Ohio, with his fair complexion and freckles.

“Thanks for coming, Patrick."

He smiled and gripped my hand. “You did it, Lily. Your work speaks for itself. It's incredible, and everyone here knows it." Besides our Midwest connection, I felt a certain link to Patrick that went beyond us both being two fish out of water in the big city. Adam, who came from Boston, had lived in Manhattan much longer than either of us.

“Get a glass of wine and some apps, you two. Check out Hannah's work and Edwardo's."

Adam said something about the other two artists under his breath that I couldn't quite hear, but I frowned, knowing him well enough to gather it wasn't very nice. “Go, please. Spread the love."

“Okay, precious." Adam touched my cheek. “But we all know who the real rising star is tonight."

“Love you."

“Love you more."

Eva and her dad moved through the crowd, giving me space to greet other visitors.

Soon Tony appeared beside me, startling me again as he had earlier in the evening. “I need to make an introduction. You're creating quite a stir."

After meeting several patrons, Tony whispered in my ear. “That is William Shaw looking at your work!"

I pretended not to know who he meant, though I had secretly kept my eye on his every move. “Oh, him? He's my friend, Eva's father."

“Your friend's father? Lily, do you have any idea who William Shaw is?"

“No, what do you mean? I don't know what he does for a living. I know they're affluent."

He touched my elbow to make an impression. “He's on the Forbes list, honey." I must have still appeared stunned because he continued, “The Forbes Fortune 400 list of the country's wealthiest people. We're talking billionaires." He could barely contain his excitement. “And he's looking at your work."

“It's no big deal; Eva probably dragged him here." To my chagrin, both Eva and William moved to Hannah's pieces and started conversing with her. “What does he do anyway?"

“I'm not exactly sure." Tony's eyes roved the room. “He owns some tech companies that he inherited from his father, and apparently, when his father died, he took over. And instead of the stock values dropping, he's become wildly successful. I read an article in Bloomberg about him. He's the real deal–brains, wealth, looks, and a bachelor now, from what I hear."

“Yes, Eva was pretty broken up about it." I had to keep that in the forefront of my mind. This man, however charming, handsome and elusive, was Eva's father.

Tony noticed William talking to Hannah. “Go stake your claim."

I scoffed, unsure what he meant. “Tony, I don't know the man; I only know Eva." Where was Eva now? I wondered why Tony was encouraging me to take back the limelight from Hannah; wasn't he representing us both?

I thought, at times, he tended to breed a slight rivalry between us that seemed unhealthy. I had even heard him remark that there was nothing wrong with competition between artists. “Seriously, Lily, there's no question… I repeat, there's no question your collections have stolen the night, hands down."

I laughed. “Well, I'm pleased. Thank you again for the opportunity, Tony."

“You're the water, Lily. I'm just the faucet."

Eva appeared before me, and Tony begged for his leave.

“Wow, Lily. I knew you could paint," Eva made a brushstroke in the air. “But I had no idea how talented you really are. I'm floored, truly. I want the Brooklyn Bridge painting, and I'm pretty sure my dad wants one too."

“Ah, thank you, Eva. That means a lot." I wasn't sure Eva saw the price tags, not that money was an issue for them. Tony tended to dramatically inflate the work he showcased to astronomical figures, which began a bidding war. He hadn't mentioned to me that any bids had been made on my pieces, only that people liked them.

As affluent as both Eva and her father were, I also knew that rich people were some of the cheapest people around. They rarely spent large sums of cash unless an investment was to be made. As a teenager, I worked as a waitress, then assistant manager for one of the resorts near Lake Minnetonka. The wealthier the tourist was, the more of a pain in the ass they became. It always shocked me they expected the same discounts and rebates as the middle-class families who probably saved up for years to visit.

“There's Daddy."

I looked up, then tilted my ear to eavesdrop on Tony conversing with William Shaw.

“This is New York's most vibrant art scene now, and with the film festival in the spring, it's the most exciting place to show contemporary art."

“Uh huh," William said.

“This row is nothing but galleries. The curators live here, but real artists live here too. Pop stars, hedge fund moguls–everybody wants to live here. Have you looked at some of my pieces near the windows?"

As the two walked near the front, I couldn't help noticing how the cut of William's suit fit him perfectly, his full head of thick brown hair that most men his age had started to lose, and his striking hazel eyes that had a mixture of confidence and kindness.

He was unlike Eva, who I thought must take after her mother in looks and personality. He intrigued me, and I suddenly wanted to know everything about him. I wondered what it would be like to work for William, who I imagined was a straightforward and pleasant employer.

“Your paintings are just splendid," said an older woman in her mid-seventies wearing a thick gold necklace. “Good work, my dear."

“She's right. They are magnificent." William was beside me now.

I had heard this from dozens of onlookers throughout the night, but coming from him meant the most somehow. I breathed deeply, with a final sense of validation. My work really was as good as I felt it was. This was what I was meant to do, despite my family's disapproval.

My parents' disappointment always lingered in the back of my thoughts. They wanted me back home, married with a family, close by, just like my brothers and their wives. Whatever I did, it was never enough for them. Having Eva's father's approval sealed my conviction.

“Thank you so much."

“I know some curators I can put you in touch with," he said.

The thought of leaving Tony took me aback. “Thank you, but I'm happy where I am. Tony discovered me."

“You're happy now, but I could give you much more, to have your work seen by the right people in the art community."

All I heard was him say, 'You're happy now, but I can give you so much more.' What did that mean? Was he talking about more than my work? Was this feeling between us mutual, or my wild imaginings?

“Excuse me. I have to take this call," he said as his phone rang.

“So… we need to go out and celebrate you!" Eva said as she returned from the restroom.

“Oh, Eva, I'm exhausted. I don't think I can tonight, but soon!"

“Okay. I think Dad needs to go. We'll catch up soon. Where's your manager? I need to secure my painting with him."

I pointed out Tony, who stood near Edwardo, who bore an enormous grin on his face. He must have sold one of his sculptures. I was happy for him. I scoured the room for Hannah and found her in a mass of male suitors. She smiled and flirted, pointing out aspects of her art, throwing her head back in a jovial manner.

For the first time, I noticed Hannah's low-cut dress. It was no wonder Hannah knew how to work the room, unlike me in my wide-legged trousers with uneasy social skills. I wanted my work to speak for itself. Though, I thought, on the flip side, it couldn't hurt to market myself a little better. Maybe it was all part of the game.

'Could William be right? Should I explore other galleries?' I hated the thought of leaving Tony. No, my loyalty rested with him for now. I would still be doing art fairs on college campuses if it wasn't for him. Tony had provided me with the outlet to sell my work tonight for thousands of dollars, much more than I ever dreamed. Suddenly, the doubts crept in again—certainly, my pieces were creating a buzz. But had any of them sold other than the one to Eva?

The musicians played a jazzy number, and I was moved to hear the solo violinist shine. I appreciated the ambiance and watched the crowd disperse as the evening winded down. Several more well-wishers complimented my collection, and I took a glass of wine from a waiter.

“Thank you." The chardonnay tasted smooth with notes of wood and vanilla.

I had lost sight of Eva and William, and I guessed they must have left about the same time Patrick and Adam had departed.

I decided whether or not anything sold; I'd be happy with the opportunity. This was my first showing, and I was lucky to be here; I had to be grateful for this gift before me now. Who knew if it would ever come again? I only hoped Tony wouldn't lose faith in me. I already had an idea for a new collection I'd like to call 'Carnival,' based on a trip to Coney Island with Adam and Patrick.

I noticed Tony scurrying through the room at an accelerated speed, even for him. He attached the SOLD marker to one of my paintings, and my heart stopped. Then he glanced over his shoulder at me and placed the SOLD markers on all my paintings.

“What's going on, Tony? Is this for real?"

He turned to face me and grasped both my hands in his. “Lily, William Shaw bought your entire collection."

“What? I know Eva wanted the Brooklyn painting, but that's it."

He must have misunderstood them.

“Not just that one—everything, all of them." He couldn't hide his elation. “He didn't give anyone a chance. I had to tell people the pieces had sold; several guests wanted to make offers."

“Blue Grotto?"

He nodded. “Yes, Lily." His eyes widened.

“The Color of Love?" The enormous painting was listed at $8,999. “No—"

“Are you hearing me?"

The musicians played a beautiful rendition of Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol, a song that would forever cement me to this moment, my moment.

“Yes. There was no bartering. He gave Miranda his card and told her to call his assistant tomorrow, and they'd wire the money. He also bought Hannah's 'Dreamsicle,' but I think that was a pity buy."

“Tony!"

He nodded. “You have arrived, my darling girl. This was your night. From here, there's no telling where you're headed–up for sure," he said, giddy. “There's no stopping you."

“Stop!" I laughed as her heart and head lightened, but something didn't sit well. Skeptical by nature, I knew I was good, but what could this mean for William to buy everything? Was he trying to tell me something? Did he do it for Eva?

The only thing I knew for sure was that I intended to find out.