Holiday Hoax (Windy City Holidates #3)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

MIA

There’s nothing like watching art go on the walls for an artist’s debut show. I live for the awe on their faces when they see the lighting hit just right on the work they wrung themselves dry for to bring into the world. Today it’s the work of a forty-year-old woman who made the brave decision to break away from her corporate job to finally follow her passion when her daughter started college.

Her paintings bleed hope and renewal. My favorite of the bunch is an abstract of the Chicago skyline. The wild strokes of blues and grays with random dots of color are so visually striking that my eyes are drawn to the work every time I look up.

It should be easy to sell, especially with a low five-figure price tag. Her show isn’t until Thursday night, but I have a few appointments today, so I might give them a sneak peek.

“Mia?” Silvia, my boss, pokes her head out of her office. “Can you come in here for a second?”

“Sure.”

I walk into her office and have a seat on the plush blue armchair that sits opposite her white lacquer desk. She looks at me warmly, the wrinkles on the corners of her eyes deepening as she smiles. She always looks exquisite. From her perfectly slicked back bun to her Chanel suits, Silvia is aging gracefully personified.

“Eric Simms left a message about coming back in for a third appointment.”

I don’t bother to hide my grimace. “Really?”

“He specifically asked for you. Are you okay with that?” She watches me with keen eyes. “I can always tell him that you’re ill when he shows up.”

As tempting as that is, I need the commission. My brother might have given me his apartment, but I still have other bills to pay. So I shake my head.

“No, I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay, I’ll make sure to stay close just in case.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” She slides her glasses on and looks at her computer. “You’ll be in for the show Thursday, correct?”

“Yes.”

“I need to run out that afternoon for a few hours, so you’ll be the point person for catering.”

“No problem.”

“How was last night? I’ve been dying to try Verde.”

I huff out a chuckle. “Mason canceled on me last minute, but I decided to go anyway, just for the experience, but you’ll never believe who I saw.”

“Who?”

“Eric,” I say deadpan.

“Simms?” Her eyebrows shoot up.

“Yeah. I think he was going to ask me out.”

“What happened?”

“My brother’s brother-in-law showed up and interrupted him.”

“Oh, thank god. What a terrible coincidence.”

“Right? Luckily Ian was a good sport and pretended to be my boyfriend, so hopefully Eric truly just wants to find some art for his apartment.”

“Is Ian attractive?” She wiggles her brows, the gesture so at odds with her professional exterior.

“Yes, but it’s not like that.” Truthfully, he’s completely the opposite of my type. He’s so tall and clean cut, like he could have stepped out of a Tom Ford ad. I have a string of exes with full beards and gauges in their ears with full tattoo sleeves. “He’s quite a bit older than me, too, I think. Late thirties.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s about to take over Jameson Industries.”

“Never heard of them.”

“Me neither, but Nico says they’re a big deal. One of the biggest names in Chicago without being known or something.”

“That’s nice. I’m glad he was there to run interference.”

“So am I.”

The chime from the front door sounds, so I stand to go out and greet whoever it is. “Is there anything else?” I ask.

“No.” She waves me off. “Go make a sale.”

A smile lifts my lips as soon as I see the man looking around lost at the front desk. He’s huge, a testament to his career as an NFL tight end. Drew Flowers is not only a world class athlete, but a neighborhood friend I grew up with.

“Drew.” I walk toward him with my arms open for a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Mia.” He squeezes me in a brotherly embrace. “I need some art for my new townhouse.”

“Do you not like the pieces we chose last year?”

“Well, I have some news.” He looks chagrined as he meets my gaze. “Turns out I’m a dad.”

“That’s amazing! Congratulations.”

“Thanks. It was definitely unexpected.”

“You’ll be an amazing dad. But I see why you might want to find different pieces for your space. How long until the baby is here?”

The art he bought last year were gorgeous charcoal drawings of nude women. They were tasteful but also deeply sensual. It was the perfect collection for a single bachelor but not really family friendly.

“Apparently three years ago.” He scratches his jaw. “I just found out about her, my daughter, a couple weeks ago.”

“What? Oh my god, I didn’t think that happened in real life.”

“Yeah, well, apparently it does. The other day her case worker came over unannounced and kept side eyeing all my art and decor. She didn’t outright say I needed to redecorate, but it was heavily implied.”

“No problem. We can find something for you.”

The afternoon flies by as we pick pieces and catch up on each other’s lives. I promise to stop by on installation day to give him my opinion, even though he has a decorator who will be choosing each location of the pieces he purchased. Plus, I’ll be able to meet his daughter, who I’m exceptionally curious about.

I tell him about my nightmare encounter with Eric last night. He listens as I fill him in on the way he keeps coming by the gallery but not buying anything. His brow furrows as he hands over his credit card to pay.

“That guy sounds like a creep. You should have Mason work with him from now on.”

“I tried that, but he was adamant about wanting me to be the person. Sylvia and Mason both stay close when he’s here.” I give him a smile as I hand back his card. “You have enough to worry about, don’t add a weirdo that I’m dealing with to your list.”

“Does Nico know? Or your dad?”

“No.” I point my finger at him. “And don’t you dare think about telling either of them, Andrew Flowers,” I say threateningly. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, but let me know if you ever need anything. My townhouse is only a few blocks away.”

“I know.” I walk him to the door and tell him goodbye with a quick hug.

Sylvia is behind the front desk when I turn the lock behind him.

“Tell me again why you never dated that gorgeous man?” she asks without lifting her gaze from the screen.

“Because I literally watched him spend years of his life eating boogers and running screaming from spiders,” I reply deadpan.

“If I were thirty years younger, I could look past that for the way he looks in those uniform pants.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I can’t. He’s basically my brother, and I love him to pieces but not that way.”

“Too bad. You can go ahead and leave, I’ll do all the closing duties tonight.”

“Thank you. Have a good night.”

The most unwelcome sight awaits me as I open my mailbox in the lobby of my building on the way home. Not only do I have a bill from the neighborhood urgent care clinic from my sinus infection treatment but also my student loan bills. A blue envelope sits on the bottom of the pile with just my name and apartment number written across the top.

Curiosity has me tearing it open right there in the mail room. My eyes skim the text until they land on the figures at the bottom. The monthly HOA fees are increasing by two hundred dollars. That’s seven hundred and fifty dollars worth of fees to upkeep parts of the building I don’t even use. I drop my head to the marble topped table in the center of the room and pound it against the stone while I let myself wallow in pity.

Nico was kind enough to give me the apartment so I don’t have a mortgage payment, but between loans, bills, groceries, and the fricking HOA payment I’m barely making it. I don’t want to ask for money. Moving home with my parents is out of the question. If I don’t start making more commissions, I’m going to have to find a second job. But if I get a second job, Nico and my parents are going to wonder why and then I’ll have to tell them. Then Nico will try to swoop in with all his money to make my life easier.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate that he wants to help me, I do. But he’s in California with Stella, and they’re trying to get her lupus under control while starting a family. He doesn’t need to be worrying about his baby sister floundering back in Chicago.

I’m definitely not going to burden my older sisters who have families of their own. Mom and Dad are struggling since he had a heart attack nearly a year ago and hasn’t been able to go back to work fully. I’m not about to add more stress to their lives.

I drop the mail on the kitchen counter as I walk directly to the wine cooler and pull out a bottle of cheap pinot grigio. Filling the glass nearly to the rim while I pull a packet of ramen out of the cupboard, I can’t help but think about what a joke this is. I’m not even paying rent, but I’m the epitome of house poor.

Rain starts falling against the windows, the sound soothing my frayed nerves. I decide to lean into the atmosphere outside and light a pumpkin candle and turn on old episodes of Gilmore Girls. A few hours in Stars Hollow should reset my soul.

I settle in with my ramen and wine while candlelight flickers against the deep green walls. The very first thing I did when I took over the apartment was to paint every single room to bring life into the space that was so void of color. The open concept living room and kitchen were color drenched in a deep forest green that contrasts gorgeously against the oak floors and cabinetry.

I can’t afford the type of art I'd want to adorn my walls with yet, so I do the next best thing and turn them into statement pieces themselves. The only white space left is the office which I really just use as a studio. I’m not a talented artist, but I have always loved the peace and tranquility of sitting in front of a canvas and bringing the vision in my mind to fruition.

I’m finishing the last of my wine when the unfortunate topic of my bills filters back into my mind. Just for giggles I start a search for part time jobs in my neighborhood of the city. I have experience working in restaurants, but I’d really rather find anything else. One of my college roommates used to sell her dirty panties. She made a fuck ton of money doing it if I remember correctly.

Could I do that?

How do you even do that?

I grab a piece of paper and start making a list of possibilities.

Bean and Leaf -barista?

Rite-aid

Grace Salon

Whole Foods

Selling panties-$$$

Foot pics?

I sigh and toss the list onto the coffee table where it lands amongst my collection of coffee table books. None of these are feasible options. At least ones not involving selling panties or pictures of my feet. I guess that’s a check in the positive column for those. My schedule at the gallery isn’t set. Some weeks I’m doing open to close Monday through Friday and other weeks I’m working on the weekends. Not to mention the evening showings which can be scheduled any night of the week. But my paychecks depend so heavily on commissions.

Drew’s purchase today doubled what I’ve earned in the past two weeks for this month. When the money is good, it’s so good. Why can’t I have more rich friends?