I walked past him and had to fight the urge to inhale again like I hadn’t already caught his scent. My palms were suddenly damp. My heart was doing something childish.
Blessing from God, I reminded myself.This is a big opportunity. Focus, girl.
He closed the door behind me and motioned to a chair. “Have a seat.”
I sat, crossing my legs so my knee wouldn’t bounce.
Sincere took the seat across from me, not behind the desk. That small choice made it feel like a conversation instead of a meeting, like he was meeting me, not evaluating me.
He folded his hands loosely. “First, I appreciate you coming in.”
“Of course,” I said too fast.
His eyes held mine for a second longer than necessary. Not creepy, though. It was… consuming.
“I’m Sincere Bellamy,” he introduced. “Aria told me a lot about you. I’ve seen your work.”
Suddenly, I was insecure about my art. “You did?”
“I did.” But then he smiled. “You’re very talented. Very.”
That fucking smile was deadly. I wanted to paint it, to capture the way it made me feel, the way it made you forget your problems.
“Th-thank you.”Gawd damn it, why can’t I talk?!
“I own Bellamy Urban Development. We’re sponsoring Mothers of the Block through Aria’s gallery. I wanted to meet you face-to-face. If we’re putting our name on something, I like to know who I’m standing beside.”
I nodded, trying not to stare at his mouth when he spoke.
“The sponsorship will cover the event costs. You’ll have a featured artist fee, and you’ll have a clear agreement for sales and commission splits through Voss.”
He was using words that were going over my head. But I just replied, “Okay.”
“What I expect from you is professionalism and show up on time. That’s it. I’m not trying to control your art. I’m trying to protect the event.”
“I can do that,” I said, and it came out more confident this time.
“I figured you could,” he replied, like he already knew.
He reached for a folder on the table. “The second part of why I wanted to meet you is longer-term. We’re developing a condo building in the area. It’s in your neighborhood on 83rd. I’m sure you’ve seen the construction.”
I wanted to laugh at the irony. This was the building my mother was outraged about. And here I was, sitting in front of the man behind it, being handed the biggest opportunity of my life.
“There will be community spaces attached to it, a large lobby, a community center, and shared spaces. I want you to do a large mural in the lobby and another one in the community center. I want it to be you because you’re from the community, and your work looks like the community.”
I stared at him, trying to process the words I’d dreamed about late at night when the kids were asleep and my paint supplies were spread out on my dining room table.
“I also have a few business associates with commercial spaces, restaurants, and even a couple of gyms. I mentioned your work to them, and they’re interested in having pieces in their businesses.”
My lungs stalled.
He said it like it was normal, like it didn’t just crack open a door I’d been trying to open for years.
“I—” I started, but my voice caught. I pressed my lips together, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry.”
Sincere’s gaze didn’t move. “For what?”
“For… being so overwhelmed,” I said, because my head was spinning. “Thank you for—for thinking of me.”
