Page 105 of Will to Run

“Well, I have some news, and you’re going to want this,” she pours me a glass of bubbly and hands it to me. “And this,” she pushes a chair my way, too.

“You’re making me nervous, Rose,” I turn to her.

“Nervous isn’t the word I’d use, Della.”

Before I can speak, she continues.

“You sold twenty-three paintings,” she points to her clipboard.

Only this woman would still use a clipboard to track items.

“But what’s most notable is Love’s First Light.”

My eyes snap back to my favorite painting where I captured the moment the sun rose into the bottom tip of the heart. That scene will live rent-free in my head forever, but I feel like it represents exactly what we said it has: my sunrise; my new beginning. The painting is full of textures and colors, and it turned out better than any photograph that I could have taken.

“It was purchased,” she says.

“I see!” I say, taking a drink and glancing at the red sticker on the tag. “I have mixed feelings… I kind of love this one.” I smile back at the painting.

“Someone else did, too. It was purchased for eighty thousand dollars.”

The champagne gets caught in my throat, and I choke. “Eighty thousand dollars?” I ask when I regain the ability to speak. Rose keeps talking, but I don’t hear or process what she’s saying.

“Well, kind of. It was purchased for… purchase price, but… patron… fifteen… commission… each.”

The ringing in my ears stops, and I hear the last part of her sentence.

“It’s the most money we’ve had spent by a single buyer here. I don’t even know what to say, Della.”

Who in their right mind would pay that kind of money? I try to think of all the people who were here. No one sticks out to me as a big baller or anything. “Who?” I get out.

“She looks at her clipboard and back at me. Someone named Sir Magnum Biggs. It was an online arrangement and store pickup next week. I don’t know who that is. Maybe a tourist?” She is stone-faced as she delivers the news.

My mouth drops open, and my hand moves to cover it in laughter. Blinking slowly to process that, I look at Rose, wondering if she can read my thoughts.

Jaxon paid eighty thousand dollars? I can’t wrap my head around that sentence.

“When did that come through?” I whisper.

“Well, I opened the online store at 5 p.m. today, and the work was purchased at 5:01. However, the commission paperwork was put in place earlier.”

Once again, I hear her, but don’t process what she’s saying. After I finish up and hugging the woman who had a hand in my rebirth, I drive right to Jaxon’s house. Forgoing knocking or ringing the doorbell, I let myself right in.

“Jaxon Wills,” I shout as I enter the house. “You are not purchasing that painting for that astronomical amount of money. What are you doing?” But the words get lost in my throat when I see a handful of candles, two wine glasses, and an open wine bottle on his dining room table.

“There you are,” he says, getting up from the couch like this is panning out exactly as he planned it. “I thought this might be a great way to celebrate your first Amberheart Valley Art Show. How did you do?”

“Jaxon, you can’t.”

“Can’t what?” he responds. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” I can’t believe he’s keeping a poker face right now.

“Do you know who my biggest benefactor was?” I ask as he hands me a glass.

“Hmmm… probably someone pretty handsome. Kind. Funny. Charming sometimes. Sorrier than he’ll ever be able to say with words. And probably really good in bed… like best ever. That’s if I had to guess, of course,” he answers with a boyish grin.

“The ghost of the deer or your dick really must like me then,” I can feel the smirk on my face as I flirt back. It’s the one that only he can bring out of me, it seems.

“Well, seeing as there’s only an elk in here, not a deer, I’m going with the latter,” he smiles, and my smirk spreads to a full-blown grin.