Sweet Sinner

Chapter 4

There was a week until my gallery opening and I was nervous beyond belief. Apparently there were a lot of people who were going to be coming, and even though the thought was totally exciting, I was also about to have an anxiety attack.

At least the gallery was distracting from graduation, which was also happening in a week. The only thing I had to worry about with that was just making sure I didn't trip over my own two feet - which shouldn't be too difficult.

There was just a lot of pressure on me for this gallery to go well. If I could get my name out into the art community I might actually be able to open my own gallery instead of just doing gallery showings. I needed this to work out, because there wasn't much opportunity for someone with an art degree to do much else besides art.

And yeah, that was my fault. I should've picked something that would've made for a smart career choice, but art was my passion, and I couldn't picture myself doing anything else.

So this just needed to work out.

Patrick had helped me set up everything inside Pace, so we were pretty much done. The only thing that still needed to be worked out now were the outfits.

Apparently Patrick had zero faith in me to be able to pick out something that wouldn't make me look like I'd just finished painting, so he was taking Tricia and I on a shopping spree.

Classic.

Beautiful.

Simple.

Those had been my three requests, and I was hoping against all odds that he'd actually find something I'd be comfortable in.

It's not that he ever steered me the wrong way with fashion, but more so that I just wasn't...fashionable. Tricia was effortlessly flawless and looked amazing in everything, but that was definitely not the case with me.

My wardrobe consisted of oversized shirts that were splattered with paint, skinny jeans with holes or tears or just well-worn, and anything comfortable enough to randomly start painting in. If I was worried about getting it dirty, it typically wasn't in my closet.

"What look are you going for, Tricia?" asked Patrick as he pushed open the door to one of his 'fashion secrets'. Apparently it wasn't a very well known store, but they carried a lot of really amazing clothes.

"Something short...but not too short...probably in a dark blue." she said, her eyes already scanning the racks of clothes.

"And you," he said turning to me, "Classic, beautiful, and simple."

I nodded, looking around the store but didn't see anything that 'spoke to me'.

"Ideally I would've done this earlier than a week ago, but event planning..." he trailed off, waving a hand in the air before continuing, "So we need to find something today, so that if anything needs to be fixed or changed we'll have time to do it."

I nodded, simply following him around like a small kid follows their parents around the store - but honestly, that's almost what I felt like.

Tricia, on the other hand, already had an arm full of dresses and was making her way back to the dressing rooms.

"How does she do that?" I muttered under my breath.

Patrick just laughed and started pulling a few dresses from the racks, holding a few of them up to me before shaking his head and putting them back.

A few minutes later I was in the dressing room trying on the first dress.

It was black, knee length, and had three quarter sleeves...nothing spectacular, but it was simple and exactly what I would've bought.

"Oh no, honey, that just won't do. You should be the center of attention. It's your night!" said Patrick, pushing me back into the dressing room.

I tried on three more black dresses before he tossed something over the dressing room door.

Red.

"Uh...Patrick..."

"Oh just try it on."

I sighed, but slid the fabric over my head, slightly adjusting a few things before stepping out to see what the dress looked like.

Wow.

"Holy s**t, Annie. Look at you!"

Look at me indeed...

"Ana, you have to get that dress." said Tricia, nodding her approval.

I still wasn't so sure.

It was red...really red.

"Don't you think it's..."

"Perfect? Yes." said Patrick, "And everyone else is going to think so too. Hang on a second, let me grab a pair of shoes."

He disappeared to the other side of the store and I studied my reflection.

The dress was pretty in theory. It was a deep, rich red with a black belt at the waist, fell to about mid thigh, and had a keyhole back. It was simple and of course red was a classic color, and it was beautiful.

And when Patrick added a pair of black pumps the whole thing looked even better - and even more intimidating.

"I don't even think I can walk in these."

"Of course you can." scoffed Patrick, "I've seen you walk in heels before."

True.

"Alright...so this is the one."

Tricia ended up buying a short blue dress that looked great on her - as if anything wouldn't look great on her - and Patrick picked out a white, yes white, suite with a pink tie, and it was amazing.

If anyone could pull off something as bold as that, it was definitely him.

Now I was just hoping that graduation would go off without a hitch so that I could focus all my attention on the gallery.

"Did Patrick tell you that there are apparently going to be some pretty wealthy people coming next week?" asked Tricia once we'd gotten back home.

I shook my head, "Just that a lot of people were coming."

"Rich people are the important ones. They like to buy art because they'll have something no one else does, and when you get famous they can say they have an original piece from you. It's all about appearance with them."

I shook my head, "Whatever. It doesn't really matter does it, as long as it pays the rent."

She laughed, "That's the spirit. Besides, I'm sure they'll be actual art lovers there too. There always are."

I nodded, she was right. No matter how many people didn't care, there was an equal number who did.

The only problem was that they usually didn't have the money to buy art.

That was my problem. If I could, I would fill every available space with paintings, drawings, sculptures, color everywhere - but that wasn't an option, and I doubted that it ever would be.

So I filled my space with my art, and my colors, and that was working for now.

"Hey, Ana?"

"Yeah?" I asked, halfway to my room.

"Have you...have you heard from Dylan?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, "No, I haven't."

"I have." she said softly.

"What?"

"He saw me yesterday when I went to go get coffee."

I shook my head, "What'd he say?"

"That he missed you. That he wanted to talk. I told him to go f**k himself."

I smiled, "Couldn't have said it better myself."

She chuckled and gave me a hug before heading to her own room.

Dylan was the reason my last gallery hadn't gone well. We'd been dating since our senior year in high school...three years. We'd been talking about marriage and building a life together - typical teenage romance story I guess. Except the ending to this one was something off of a B-movie. He cheated. Shocker.

At the time it had been though. I'd found out right in the middle of my gallery that he was a dirty, disgusting bastard.

It didn't matter now, though. I was past him, but it had messed with me. I mean I hadn't so much as looked at a guy for the past year, let alone considered relationships.

For right now, though, that mindset wasn't hurting me. If anything it kept me focused on art, which was better than boys anyway.

Right?