Billionaire Daddy's Little Artist

Chapter 4 : It's a Date

*Lily*

Hyped up on adrenaline, I rounded the corner after Eva's taxi drove away, then before my legs failed me, I bustled up Amsterdam to Eighty-First Street. Breathless from nerves, I tried to calm myself before entering the large revolving glass doors of William Shaw's building. Once inside the cool office space, I instantly felt relief from the extreme heat. It felt more like a mid-summer day than early spring.

Depending on how my meeting with William went, I decided I'd hit the MET, just up the block, before returning home. The Metropolitan Museum of Art was one of my favorite places to visit when I first arrived in the city.

Afraid of how William might react to my unannounced pop-in, I strategized as to what I would say. I planned to tell him I had met Eva for lunch, and she told me where he worked, and I just wanted to thank him. I had a legitimate reason for showing up. In the best-case scenario, he'd accept my gratitude and explain where he planned to exhibit my paintings—all perfectly straightforward. Worst case, he'd find my spontaneous visit stalkerish, call security and have me removed, then contact Tony and take back his offer to buy the collections.

After checking the directory for the right floor, I boarded the elevator. With glass mirrors all around me, I dabbed my forehead with my sleeve, then released my hair from the ponytail, thinking it made me look older with it down. My blue-grey eyes stared back at me, asking, 'What are you doing?'

As the doors opened, the elevator music turned into a lighter jazzy ambiance. The waiting room looked like something out of a magazine, with luxurious deep sofas, glass tables and gorgeous plants. My eyes immediately went to the generic contempo art hanging in the main room, an imitation Jackson Pollack—not half bad, but not my style.

The receptionist, who could have doubled as a runway model, looked at me with her headset. “May I help you?"

“I'm here to see William Shaw."

She glanced down at her computer.

“I'm sorry, I-I don't have an appointment. He purchased some art pieces from me, and I just wanted to thank him if he was free. If not, it's no big deal. I can come back. I was just around the corner having lunch with his daughter."

The personal connection made her eyes light up. “Please have a seat, and someone will be right with you."

This was a mistake. I tapped my forehead. I should go now, I thought, before I make an even bigger fool of myself. Another wave of dizziness overtook me, so I sunk into the plush couch. The receptionist, slightly more beautiful without the glass between us, moved to offer me a cold Evian.

“Thank you." I opened the cap, guzzled the water, and threw it in my oversized leather bag. I smoothed out my hair, hoping I didn't appear too sweaty and nervous. The waiting room was empty and so quiet I heard my own breathing.

In the distance, I heard the faint door sound of a door opening, and then William Shaw stood before me.

Standing up immediately, I gulped.

“Lily, is everything all right?" He looked concerned. He wore a black sweater and olive pants.

“Oh, yes. I'm so sorry for just popping in like this. I was just having lunch with Eva, and she showed me your office building, and I thought I'd drop by and thank you for what you did for me last night."

He appeared confused. “Is Eva with you?"

“No. No. She doesn't even know I'm here. I just wanted to thank you—"

“Come with me." He took my arm and pulled me to follow him. “Thank you, Astrid." He smiled as we passed the receptionist's desk.

Down the hall, we walked by several glass offices, where I noticed what appeared to be both men and women on heated calls. I still wasn't sure what owning a tech company entailed. William held the door open for me at the end of the hall. An elaborate office with floor-length glass windows stretched out before me, so wide it could have been three offices in one. A glass table sat on one end, and a sitting area with a couch and leather armchairs on the other. He guided me to take a seat.

“Please, sit."

My heart beat madly, and I was sure the vein in my forehead was showing. He waited patiently with his hands clasped for me to explain my presence.

“I'm sorry to intrude. I know how busy you must be."

His hazel eyes bore into mine, and once again, I felt a tiny thrill, heightening every cell in my body just sitting beside him.

“You bought all my paintings. Why?" Once I said it, I wished I could take it back. I sounded so amateurish, timid, and unprofessional.

He bore the hint of a smile, then broke into a chuckle. “Lily, as I told you yesterday, they are magnificent. I couldn't stop with just one. I wanted them all." He took my hands in his, and a tingling sensation shot up my spine. “You are incredibly talented. I'd like to sponsor you. Hell, I want to commission you to fill all of my offices and homes."

Wait, had he just said homes—plural?

“Honestly, I'm not much of an art connoisseur; I have a few Gauguins and a Georges Seurat."

“Wait, what?" I leaned forward and moved to the edge of my seat. “You have a Seurat?"

William smiled like a teenager. “Yes, I won it at Christie's Auction House in London about ten years ago."

“Aren't there only like seven in the world? Ahh, I would love to see it." This news blew me away. I'd studied Seurat, and he was one of my most favorite artists.

“It's in my bedroom apartment here. You can see it any time." He said this without any double meanings, but I blushed just the same, then reddened even more from embarrassment.

“You say you're not a connoisseur, yet you have a Gauguin and Seurat!" I teased like we were old friends.

“I know what I like, and I love your collections." He stopped smiling.

“You didn't find the Blue Grotto too provocative?" It sounded flirty, but I truly wanted to know his opinion. There was a line; if an artist appeared to be trying too hard or something pulled you out of the piece, it took away from the whole experience.

William seemed to know what I meant. “No, it enhanced the pieces. Each one separate—if you had drawn just the caves; they would have been amazing, or if you had the couples on a blank white canvas by themselves; they would have been extraordinary, but to have them together? What was your inspiration? I want to hear your ideas for all the pieces."

“I don't know. They just come to me." I told him I had never been to Malta but had seen that show on the PBS channel that gave me the idea. My head and heart tingled with pleasure. “I'm so pleased you have them. If I had to part with them, I'm so happy that someone has them who will appreciate them. Thank you."

“I haven't decided where to place them all. Will you help me?"

“Of course."

“You can see them any time." Again, there was no double entendre. I could tell his offer was genuine. “I'm sure that it must be difficult to depart with your creations."

“Yes." I was at a loss for what to say now. He understood and saw me in a way no one else ever had. I nodded again.

Just as I felt it was time to go, he grabbed my hand. “Have dinner with me." His Rolex gleamed in the window's sunlight.

“Oh." I straightened up in my seat, unsure how to answer this or how to perceive it. He waited for my response and grasped my hands again. “I'm sorry, I don't even know if you have a boyfriend—"

“I don't. It's just… Eva. It seems—"

“Does she know you're here?" He looked over his shoulder, frowning.

“No. Does she know that you bought my collections?"

“No." He let my hands fall and swallowed. “Lily, this is unusual for me. I haven't dated since my divorce. I haven't found anyone remotely interesting until I met you. How do you feel? Do you want to have dinner with me?"

“Yes, very much." I beamed.

“I'm sorry to ask you this, but can you not tell Eva about me buying your collections or our dinner plans? It's not like me to keep things from her. I'd just like to tell her at the right time. Timing is everything with her, as you probably know." He grinned. “You know how she frets about things."

Frets was one way of putting it, I thought. More realistically, if she knew, she'd curse or damn us to Satan's four fiery hells. But somehow, Eva's reaction was the farthest thing from my mind. My desire and longings for William were not just in my head. He felt them too. I'd never been drawn to someone so powerfully, and the mere fact that he wanted me back made me blissfully happy.

“I really should let you get back to work." I stood up and strapped my purse across my chest.

William stood and seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to say something. “Yes, well. I'll see you tonight. Where would you like to go?"

“Oh, I don't care. I like everything. I can't even think of a type of food I don't like except beets."

He laughed. “Really?" He tilted his head like he didn't believe her. “That's refreshing."

I sighed, wondering if my ramblings were offsetting. “I should go before I say something embarrassing."

“Okay then. I will come up with something you'll hopefully like and make damn sure there aren't any beets on the menu."

We both laughed.

“Here, I'll walk you out."

We headed toward the lobby. Butterflies rose in my chest as he kissed my cheek. “Leave your information with Astrid, please."

“Oh, all right. Bye."

Once on the street, I couldn't contain my excitement. I headed toward the MET, wanting to treat myself to something I loved. My phone rang, and it was my best friend from high school, Rachel Morris."

“Hi Rachel, how are you?"

“How are you? I saw on Twitter you had a big show last night at some fancy art gallery?"

“Yes," I gushed. “And I sold my entire collection, kind of bittersweet to let them go."

“What's new with you?"

“Oh, the same old. Todd is still working for Colgate. Evan is three now. I stay home with him and help your mom with the toddler class at school."

“Three; I can't believe Evan is three!"

Memories of an uncomfortable visit to the clinic came rushing back. In our senior year of high school, Rachel thought she might be pregnant with then-boyfriend Todd and asked me to accompany her to the doctor to confirm her worst fears. The color had drained from her face at the news.

'Rachel, you have options.' I took her hand in mine. 'I can help you if you don't want to give the baby up for adoption.'

'No, I have to. I can't do this alone.'

'You're not alone. Talk to Todd about it, and you have me.'

Once she laid eyes on Evan's adorable little face, nothing would keep her from him. He was the sweetest baby ever.

Rachel had wanted to move to Houston and work for NASA. I tried to be supportive and hoped that she hadn't given up on her dreams, but once the baby had arrived, every time I suggested she go back to college, she said there was no way. Todd and Evan needed her. But she was always happy that she had chosen to keep Evan.

Rachel's voice brought me back to the present. “Lily, your mom heard about your show too," she said. “You should call her. They're worried about you."

“Why would they be worried? I'm fine! I'm beyond fine; I'm ecstatic!"

“Still, you're all alone there—"

“I'm not alone, Rachel. I have roommates and friends." And now William.... “I'm sorry, Rachel, but I have to go. Thanks for checking in." The longer I talked to Rachel, the worse I felt.

My parents hadn't even called to congratulate me or see if I was okay. Communication was a two-way street. I tried not to let the call with Rachel taint my day.

It was time to focus on my future and dinner tonight with William.