"Wait, you mean someone actually wants to pay us for our art?" Katie asked, walking me back through the large warehouse space. There were several sculptures out.
"I know, right? What a novel concept," I said, taking a few pictures.
"I don't know. I like to deep-fry exposure and eat it on a taco."
"You'll get exposure with this project, but you'll also get money," I told Katie as she rounded up several other artists we went to school with.
As we stood around a large ornamental outdoor firepit, I told them about my ideas for bringing art to Harrogate.
"I'm pitching it at our committee meeting tomorrow," I told the group. "Once Archer Svensson signs off, we'll have you come out, see the site, and let me know which spot you want. We want to make a statement, so bigger is better. Our timeline is pretty short, too, so there will obviously be a fee to expedite the work."
Several of the artists pumped their fists. Like me, I knew they were pleased with the idea of some extra money.
Katie walked me out after the meeting. "So, Archer Svensson, huh?"
"You know him?"
"I know of him. He made Fang Fei famous. I thought he was dating McKenna. I'm glad you're moving into her territory."
"I'm not moving into her territory," I scoffed. "I don't want anything to do with Archer. He's obnoxious."
"But he's so good-looking." Katie sighed. "And he appreciates art."
After hugging Katie goodbye, I hefted the heavy portfolio. I didn't have money to take a car, so I was forced to jostle onto the subway. I had to walk several blocks from the closest subway station to the gallery and was out of breath and sweaty when I arrived.
The gallery was at the bottom of a fancy hotel.
"Hello?" I called when I walked into the air-conditioning.
"You must be Hazel." A tall, thin older woman approached me, hand outstretched.
"Hi, Lucy?" I asked in a rush, shifting my portfolio to my other arm and shaking her hand. "Sorry," I said after accidentally banging her with the portfolio. "Thank you so much for meeting with me."
"We sell quite a bit of art to investors," Lucy bragged. "Fang Fei used to show with us before she was discovered." I remembered what Archer had said, how he had made her famous. Maybe a billionaire would walk into the gallery and make me famous.
The gallery owner gestured to my portfolio. "Let's have a look."
I started to lay out the paintings. The abstract collage canvases looked like they belonged in Lucy's gallery, I thought as I arranged them on the table. I took out one that was charcoal with spatters of yellow and laid it on the table.
"Oh," the gallery owner said. She was looking at the next painting in the stack. My stomach churned. It was the realistic one of my café with Archer front and center.
"That wasn't supposed to be in there," I said, hurrying to hide the painting.
"That man looks familiar," Lucy said, trying to get a closer look while I floundered.
"It's my boyfriend, Archer Svensson," a woman said from across the room.
I whirled around. "McKenna?"
"Lucy is my aunt," McKenna said as she slowly circled the table to inspect my paintings. McKenna and her aunt tsk-tsked as they reviewed my work.
"Unfortunately, I'm not that impressed," Lucy said after several minutes. She took off her glasses and looked at me. "You know, I don't ever see you at art functions in Manhattan."
"I live in Harrogate," I explained. "It's difficult to come into the city."
"I see. Well, there are trends, and I'm afraid your work is not in vogue right now."
"Thank you for your time." I looked down at my shoes, ordering myself not to cry. "I never should have come here," I muttered as I carefully placed the canvases back in the portfolio.
