I put my bag on the floor. I’d been expecting this outburst, even though I had texted her that I was okay. “Sorry for making you worried.”
“Oh,sorry,he says, as he bats his long lashes.”
I did no such thing. “I had some things to deal with, but I’m better now.”
Her features softened before she came to hug me. I rested my chin on her shoulder, hoping that the paint was dry.
“If it’s because of a boy, I’ll castrate him.”
I kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
She returned to her work, and I walked over to my station, breathing in the familiar scent of oil paint and metal. As I arranged my equipment for the day, my annoyance with Hayden overshadowed the joy of being back in the studio. He had sent me just one message since we parted ways, telling me that meeting Eliot hadn’t yielded any results and that he would be talking with his boss about the next steps. He’d promised to let me know how it went.
I debated whether to reach out to him, but I worried he’d see it as an invitation to investigate me further. I couldn’t be the catalyst for my own unmasking, not when I could hide in my cocoon a bit longer.
“I forgot to tell you!” Jenny called, making me jolt out of my thoughts.
I turned around. “What is it?”
“A bunch of people came over to see my stuff last week.” She placed her palm over her heart. “Being the amazing friend that I am, I showed them some of your work.” She went to pull out a white envelope from her bag. “I sold one of your pieces! Now, don’t give me that look, Jonah—it was the sea creature you wanted to throw away.”
“No way in hell that somebody paid for that.”
“You bet your perky ass they did. Five hundred bucks.” She handed me the envelope, and the beautiful bills were all inside.
I had a moment of hesitation, wondering if some of those bills had been added by Jenny, but I didn’t want to put her on the spot. “That’s incredible. Thank you!”
She pinched my cheek. “Sure thing, hon. And those people also said what I always tell you—get yourself an agent!”
I went to put the precious envelope in my bag. “Not happening. The last thing I need is an agent to deal with. I used to have one ages ago, and it wasn’t… it wasn’t the best…”
“What is it? Jonah?”
Thoughts spun in my head like a tornado, making my heart race. “I need to go.”
“But you just got here.”
“I’m sorry.” I grabbed my bag. “Thanks again for the sale. You’re the best!”
I bolted down the stairs and jumped into my car.
*
I sat in my car for a long time, numbly staring at the familiar building across the street.
I had first set foot there seventeen years ago, full of hope yet expecting disappointment. That had been my eighth attempt at scoring an agent, and I’d begun contemplating returning to Kentucky with my tail between my legs, fearing I’d end up homeless.
I didn’t like Agatha at first sight; I found her rude and too blunt, even for a showbiz agent. I needed to remind myself Iwasn’t there to find a new friend but someone who would fight for my career. Agatha said she saw something in me—a fearless hunger—and she signed me up as a client on the spot. I left her office the happiest man alive, my future brighter than the California sun.
After the hellish months with The Society had ended, I returned to LA with enough money to sustain myself for a while, yet without any friends. Eliot had been the assent of my social world before the nightmare started, leaving a void I didn’t know how to fill. My acting days were done and buried, but since Agatha was one of the few people I knew, I went to see her, wishing to apologize for disappearing. It turned out she didn’t give a fuck. I might as well have been apologizing for spilling her coffee.
When I first learned Nick was Agatha’s client, I dismissed it as a coincidence, but now he was in the hands of The Society, and him being taken because we’d hooked up didn’t add up. The only other thing we had in common was Agatha, who also knew Eliot. I could have been way off, succumbing to paranoia, but every instinct in my body urged me to investigate.
I got out of my car, stepped into the building, and took the elevator to the twentieth floor. I didn’t bother checking if Agatha’s office was still there; I felt it was.
I stepped out into a bright reception area that seemed nicer than the one I remembered. Headshots hung proudly along the walls. I knew I shouldn’t look but couldn’t help it. I recognized some of the faces, though Agatha never had big names in her portfolio. Some of the headshots were from the ‘90s but nonewere of me. Back in the day, my face hung on this wall, my curls tousled and my smile wide.
The receptionist coughed to get my attention. She was a pretty young thing, eyeing me with suspicion. I glanced down at my plain clothes, which had color stains thanks to Jenny’s hug.
