I listened as he explained the difference between blue-chip and red-chip. The blue-chip were stable investments by established and prominent artists, whereas red-chip were riskier investments and usually less-established artists.
He told me that his collection included a couple of pieces from Jean-Michel Basquiat and Mark Bradford, one item from David Hammons, but several pieces from Kerry James Marshall. He has pieces from less notable artists, as well, which impressed me.
I was learning that Harlem was more well-rounded than I noticed before, and I liked that, because it spoke to his maturity and stability. The trouble that he had gone through earlier was reassuring because I felt he learned his lesson, and it was unlikely he would go down that path again.
No one knew about his investments besides his parents and siblings, because he didn’t trust people. I felt honored that he had shared that information with me.
“Why do you think that you can trust me enough to share this information with me?”
“I don’t know. There’s something about you, Baby, that speaks to my soul. I’ve got a feeling about you that won’t ease up.”
“What kind of feeling?” I asked.
“That you’re my wife.”
“Wow!” I choked and grabbed my water glass to take a few sips. He patted me softly on the back, and I dabbed the water droplets from my lips.
“You good?” he asked.
“I don’t know. You and this honesty and intentionality is . . . new.”
“Refreshing?”
“Hmm.” I wasn’t sure if I would call it that, but I didn’t know what to call it. “Did your siblings get an inheritance?”
“Yeah, different things, but he took care of us the way we needed it individually. I used mine to build myself stronger because I knew that I would never want to let my granddad down.”
Harlem reached across the table and rubbed a thumb over my cheek and smoothed my tears away. “Why are you crying, Baby?”
“I think that it’s so beautiful to see the grace of God in action. Your life story and your parents is just that.”
He smiled weakly and then changed the subject. “Are you ready for your launch party?”
“I am. It’s funny you asked that. I was just thinking about that as I was leaving the shop earlier.”
“Baby, I’d like to see you again.”
“As much as I would like that, Harlem, maybe now isn’t the best time because of everything I have in front of me with opening a new shop.”
“I don’t know what part of applying pressure that you don’t understand, but I said what I said, and I’m not letting up. I’ll give you a little space at first, but I’m not going anywhere, beautiful.”
My heart rejoiced at his proclamation.
8
TEGAN
THE STORM - FIVE DAYS LATER
Ithought that I was ready and prepared for the launch party, but now that it was two days away, I couldn’t feel more stressed and less prepared.
I realized that I was short on the liners that I wanted to use for the red velvet cupcakes, the bottled water we ordered was on a delay because of storms on the East Coast, and Mimi was sick.
I was racing around the shop trying to get things secured at the last minute. Some of the staff had been here helping earlier, but the darker the skies became, and the closer the storms traveled, I sent everyone home.
It was funny that I was starting to think like a boss when I hadn’t even officially opened for business. Yet, I couldn’t help but notice, my primary thought with the approaching storm was my staff, my building and supplies, and then myself.
Warren and Javar had wanted to stick around, but I pushed them out of the shop twenty minutes earlier, with promises that I was right behind them. The more that I did around the shop, the more things I found needed to be done.
