“I’ll take it, Mr. Duvall,” Bellamy sputters in shock.
“And your name is?” Beau asks.
“Bellamy…”
“Tremaine,” I finish for him. It’ll be his name once we solidify things together. He may as well begin to use it.
“Yes,” Bellamy finishes weakly, his eyes wide.
God, I hope he doesn’t pass out. This is a big fucking deal for him.
“Why do I know that name?” Beau asks curiously.
“I’m Cassidy Tremaine, and this is Abbott,” I introduce. Ansel doesn’t like to be in the spotlight, so I leave his name out of things.
The name is no less powerful. We adopted Shiloh’s surname as a way to reclaim it from his piece of shit father. It’s one the city respects, and it has always opened doors.
For example, Beau Duvall’s face gets very red, and he glares at Pierre as if it’s his fault he wasn’t properly prepared. Which it is, because the omega was too busy feeling self important.
“We’d be honored to have Bellamy working with us,” Beau sputters. “The question is, why are you interested?”
“I love what I can create with different modalities of art styles,” Bellamy confesses. “Whether it’s an expression of happiness or something darker, it helps to create.”
And there it is. Bellamy’s way of coping with life before he was taken. My lips press together to hide my sad expression. There’s so much that he’s lost. Art shouldn’t be one of those things.
Abbott has his phone handed back to him, and Beau gazes at Bellamy with interest.
“Let’s do a three month trial,” he muses. “We’ll see what you can do, and see how all parties feel afterward. Would that suffice?”
“It would,” Bellamy says with a nod.
“Every piece commissioned has a different price attached to it. You’ll look at the amount of time it takes to create, and bill accordingly,” Beau says. “As my apprentice, I’ll receive a twenty percent commission for that, and you’ll also receive my expertise as you work. You’ll start Monday. Good day to you and Pack Tremaine.”
Nodding curtly, Beau leaves while Bellamy appears to be close to falling over.
We thank Pierre for his time and Abbott hugs Bellamy to him. Unless you’re paying attention, you’d never be able to tell that Abbott is also carrying him out because his legs are weak.
“What was all that about?” Ansel asks. “I’m confused.”
“Beau Duvall was a really big artist up until a few years ago,” Bellamy explains, shaking his head as if to convince himself this is really happening. I might have to stop him if he tries to pinch himself. “He opened a school, Beau Reverie, but I didn’t realize this was it until he introduced himself. The name of the school isn’t anywhere I could see.”
“The entrance to the school is on the other side of the street,” Abbott explained. “When I saw the gallery I decided to take a chance.”
Bellamy is standing on his own two feet, but that quickly changes as he launches himself at Abbott, hugging him tightly.
“I seriously can’t fucking believe that just happened,” he yells, making me huff out a laugh. I’m finally able to relax now that I don’t feel like crying from the weight of knowing how much Bellamy has lost.
Ansel hugs me to his side, kissing my temple.
“I know, baby,” he whispers. “This is a big deal.”
“That was all you,” Abbott replies to Bellamy with a smile as he hugs him back. “It’s a hell of a chance.”
Bellamy grins at him, and I can tell Abbott wants to kiss him but holds himself back. I get it. The dance of figuring out what feels right or what Bellamy might want is a tough one.
“Shall we go find Winter?” Abbott asks, releasing Bellamy.
“Ah, sure,” he says, looking uncertain. “I’m pretty sure she may be really close to scaling Shiloh like the tall glass of water he is.”
