Jack nodded subtly before sliding over a brown folder. “Well, let’s get down to business then. We’ve already drafted up a contract and provided the dates of the gallery’s Solo Exhibition, where we’d like to feature you as our solo artist. Our showcases do feature other artists, but your work would be the spotlight of the night. Our guest list is quite extensive, with some of our very influential guests. We have a nice selection of our private, institutional, and corporate collectors in attendance. Most of whom are known for spending a pretty penny on their favorite pieces.”
“So, how many exhibits are you asking for?” asked Aubrey.
“Typically, we ask for a decent variety, so ideally about 10-25. Each piece is curated and focused, giving you a space to stand out,” Jack explained.
“Were you able to take a look at the accommodations we’re asking for?”
“Yes, and they’re all doable. All you need to do is sign the contract and we’re good to go.”
Aubrey nodded before skimming over the contract again. “I’d like to discuss the 60% commission. As we covered most of the costs and have done our own marketing, I’m thinking 50/50 is more reasonable. That will cover all event costs, insurance, and you’ll even make a nice profit as well. Before you say something along the lines of ‘this isn’t something that’s ever been negotiated,’ I’d like to let it be known that I’m a very good friend of Eathel, who oversees Lakeson & Hines. So, I know that you offered them 50% of the commission. We’re more than happy to trump this up as an honest oversight instead of greed or PAG taking advantage. So, like I said, 50/50 commission, our accommodations fulfilled, and we have a deal. Otherwise, we walk. I’m sure House of Art would be more than interested in showcasing Legacy’s work—exclusively. And to be clear, this isn’t a negotiation; these are our terms, Jack. Take it or leave it.”
I was smiling wide because Aubrey looked like a passive, pretty face, but shorty was a pitbull in a skirt. Like a shark, she could easily smell blood in the water and nevereverbacked down from a fight. So, it was a no-brainer when Jack smiled before extending a hand for us to shake.
“You have yourselves a deal,” he said. “I’ll have my people amend the contract and send it over today.”
“Sounds good.” Aubrey grinned.
“Legacy, you’ve hit the lottery with this one here,” Jack laughed.
“Don’t I know it.”
After a successful meeting,I went back to the hotel and headed straight to the VIP Lounge to unwind at the bar with a few drinks and wings. Aubrey secured me a once in a lifetime deal where I not only had been given a half million advance, but I’d also see 50% of all sales on my artwork. Shit like that hadn’t been done, and damn sure not for an up-and-coming Black artist like myself, so I was happy as fuck and so damn grateful for shorty standing on business the way she did.
I was finishing up my fourth drink after polishing off my hot wings when I noticed the housekeeping manager, Ms. More, talking to one of her coworkers near the restrooms. I couldn’t help but acknowledge how beautiful she was. Her brown skin was flawless and unblemished, and she had some long, thick ass hair that was up in a high swinging ponytail. Lil mama was super thick in all the right places, and her body filled out that suit she was wearing. That shit had a nigga lowkey salivating. Everything was perfectly proportioned.
It’d been a minute since I openly lusted over a woman because I’d come to the realization a while ago that bitches only wanted whatever they could get out of you, and once they had it, they were gone. For some reason, I seemed only to attract the women who had ulterior motives and wanted to chase their own ambitions while using me to do it. It was always good up until they found out who my family was, then the relationship literally shifted then took a deep plunge after. It would stop becoming about me and all about my family, which was the biggest turn off ever. Fucking with me was dangerous enough, the last thing I wanted or needed was a snake ass bitch around me for all the wrong reasons. After numerous failed relationships and years oftrying to find “thae one” I finally saw shit for what it was and became perfectly fine with having noncommittal relationships with women who were just there for a fun time and not a long one. I had a nice rotation going, and if it wasn’t for sex, then we didn’t kick it. For a minute, I contemplated on calling Liza and having her come out to New York for the night but quickly disregarded it when I remembered our last conversation about “Where our relationship is going.” A nigga didn’t need that type of headache tonight, so I dismissed that thought as quickly as it came and stood up to pay the tab.
Those drinks were running through me and halfway to the VIP Lounge exit, I realized that I had to take a piss real bad and wouldn’t make it up to my suite. I took a detour and ducked off into the lounge bathroom, racing into the first stall that I saw. Dick already in hand, I bumped into Ms. More’s fine ass, startling us both.
“Oh my God! I’m—I’m so sorry.” Shorty looked so damn frightened she almost slipped, but I caught her with my free hand just as a little bit of piss trickled out onto the bathroom floor. I hobbled closer to the toilet to catch the rest, lowkey embarrassed as fuck. A nigga was really holding her with one hand while holding my dick with the other. That shit was shootin’ out for real.
“Shit. My fault, shorty. I didn’t even see you in here.” I caught her eyes bulge as she stared at my dick before quickly looking away.
“It’s—It’s okay. It’s my fault. I usually put the sign up, letting the patrons know when the bathroom is being serviced. I’m only supposed to be inspecting the restrooms, but the toilet wasn’t done correctly, so I was cleaning it over again. And now I’m rambling while you’re standing here peeing... so, again, I’m so sorry. Ummm… I’ll be back to clean this up. Excuse me.” Sherushed out of the stall, accidentally bumping into the door on her way out.
“Aye, you ain’t gotta clean up my piss, shorty. Just let me finish up, and I’ll mop the floor for you?—”
“No, it’s okay. That’s literally my job, Mr. Porter.”
“Legacy.”
“Huh?” She frowned.
“My name is Legacy. My pops is Mr. Porter,” I laughed and flushed the toilet.
“Well, that’s okay, Legacy. It’s my job to make sure that everything is cleaned properly so I got it.”
“Well, if Alexandra were here and saw me allowing a beautiful woman to clean up my piss from off the floor, she’d kick my ass. So, again, point me in the direction of the mop and I got it.”
This time, she giggled a cute ass laugh. “Who’s Alexandra?”
“My mama, and shorty, she don’t play,” I warned her.
Nodding in agreement, Ms. More stood silently while I washed and dried my hands at the sink. When I was done, she disappeared for a few minutes then returned, wheeling in a mop bucket with the mop sticking out. After gloving up, I kept my promise and carefully cleaned then mopped the bathroom floor that I had pissed on but ended up mopping the whole shit. Once I was satisfied with my work, I rewashed my hands before assisting Ms. More by pushing the mop bucket into the hallway.
“Thank you. I really appreciate the help Mr—I mean, Legacy.” Ms. More smiled, making me do the same.
“No problem. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
