She leaned against the frame, arms folded. “We survived. We did what we had to do. And now we get to do what we want.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, but the emotion was there, coiled tight.
For a long moment, neither of us said anything. We just stood looking out over our half-built empire, letting ourselves believe it might actually work.
Eventually, Harper broke the silence. “You think Gunner will show up to opening night?”
I laughed. “Only if I promise him there’ll be whiskey and chicken wings.”
She grinned. “He’s good for you, you know.”
“Is he?”
“You’re smiling more. Even if you don’t know it.”
I glanced down at my hands, not sure what to do with the praise. “It’s weird. I feel…lighter. Not less sad, just…like I can breathe.”
“That’s called healing, babe.”
“Yeah, I think it is.” I said behind a smile.
We circled back to the main floor, stopping to check out the progress on the windows. The new glass was thick and flawless, the kind you saw in high-end boutiques in Dallas. My name was already stenciled on the door, “Wildbrush Gallery,” in matte silver. Seeing it there made my chest ache, but in a good way.
“I want to get local artists on the roster,” I said, thinking out loud. “Young ones, especially. There’s so much talent out there, and most of them don’t have a place to show.”
Harper nodded. “You’ll make it happen.”
“I hope so.”
She cocked her head. “Have you told Mom?”
“About the gallery? Yeah. About last night?Hellno.”
She snorted. “One crisis at a time.”
I wanted to ask her about how things were with Arsenal, if she’d finally told him about the nightmares, the panic attacks, all the stuff we never admitted in daylight. But I let it go, for now. Today was about hope, not history.
As we made our way out, the foreman flagged us down and handed over a binder of paperwork—permits, paint samples, the works. I tucked it under my arm, feeling official and, for the first time, maybe even a little grown up.
Harper slung her arm around my shoulders. “Ready to take on the world, Wildbrush?”
I nodded, savoring the feel of her weight, the warmth of her confidence. “Past ready.”
My office was temporarily set up on our kitchen table. I’d rather be working at the gallery, but the construction noise wasn’t conducive to conducting any real business yet. I had my new over the top plush office chair delivered here so I could at least work in comfort and style. My mother had thankfully, promised to stay clear during work hours.
My laptop sat in front of me along with a wide-screen monitor that was filled with several examples of Wildbrush Gallery logos I’d mocked up. I had finally settled on one that would work for a signature on my email. The paintbrush bristles were made to look like a bunch of wildflowers, and the stylized lettering was layered over it. It was simple and refined. I’d used that signature on the emails that I’d sent to several artist agencies earlier this week, hoping I could snag a young up-and-coming artist hungry enough to want to have an exhibition in the middle of nowhere Texas. I had a legalpad on my desk on which I’d scrawled in Sharpie: “Wildbrush Gallery: Opening Show.” The rest of the pad was a fever-dream of sticky notes, color schemes, and wild guesses about how I was supposed to launch a business.
I had thirty unread emails and the kind of nervous energy that made it impossible to focus on any one thing for more than three minutes. I bounced between spam, overdue invoices, and promo blasts until a subject line caught my eye:
WBG: Exhibition Proposal — Lysander Hale, Hale & Marrow Arts Management
My breath hitched. I recognized the business name as one of the agencies I’d contacted in my email blast. They mostly handled blue-chip galleries and the occasional Midwestern upstart. I clicked the message, heart thumping.
Hi Brie,
Congratulations on the new space! Your email indicated that you’re opening with a focus on regional artists. I’m currently working with a young landscape painter, just out of RISD, who’s doing remarkable stuff with Texas and the Southwest. She’s exactly the kind of energy I think you want for your inaugural show. I’ve attached a couple of images, plus her CV.
Would love to Zoom when you can and talk about a possible solo exhibition for your launch. Let me know your availability!
Best,
