I forward it to Dom, who's in the living room monitoring police scanners.
"She wants to raise prices," I say.
"You're worth it."
"Six to twelve thousand euros. That's seven to fourteen thousand dollars."
"And?"
"And that's insane."
He looks up from the scanner, his expression serious. "No. That's what happens when you create something people can't find anywhere else. You're not just selling art, Roxy. You're selling mystery and a uniqueness. The truth."
"You really believe that?"
"I've watched you work. I've seen what you create. Yeah. I believe it."
I sit down next to him, my head on his shoulder. "What if Berlin doesn't work? What if the European collectors don't respond the way Petra thinks?"
"Then we adjust. But it's going to work."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're extraordinary. And eventually, people recognize extraordinary when they see it."
That night we hunt in East County.
Dom's been scouting an abandoned dairy farm near Descanso which is miles from anything, the kind of place where buildings collapse slowly and no one notices.
We arrive at sunset, the sky bleeding orange and red across the mountains. The main barn is half-collapsed, the roof caved in, everything rotting and beautiful. I spend an hour photographing the demise of the building, the way light comes through broken boards, the patterns of rust and mold, the sense of time passing and leaving nothing behind.
Dom keeps watch from the car, scanning the access road for headlights. When I'm done, I have thirty-seven photographs and a deep sense of satisfaction.
"This is it," I tell him, showing him the camera screen. "This is the centerpiece for the second portfolio."
The image shows the barn interior, light streaming through the collapsed roof like a cathedral, everything golden, dying and sacred.
"I love it," he says.
We make love in the back of the car while the sun sets, our bodies moving together in the fading light. He's rough and equally loving, marking me all over as he usually does.
"Everyone's going to see these in Berlin," I gasp.
"Good. Let them see."
"Possessive."
"When it comes to you? Always."
I cum with his hand around my throat, choking me into a delirious state as we both climax. This is our life and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
Week 8 - Dom
The second portfolio is nearly complete and Roxy has twenty-two pieces now:
8 crime scene polaroids
