Page 1 of Forever: The Companion

ONE

“You’re not listening to me.”

“No,” Lucia replied, “you’re not listening to me. And that’s the far bigger problem here considering I’m the only gallery in this city that offered to show your work.”

Most days, Lucia loved her job as an art gallery owner and curator. Then, she had days like today where she wondered why in the hell she chose this career path at all.

Well, that was partly a lie.

She didn’t really wonder.

Lucia chose a career in the art world because art was the only thing she found passion in when it came to work. It was the one thing she knew she would be able to do for the rest of her life and never become bored. She found art in everything. She looked for it everywhere. She might not be the artist who created things, but she was the person who loved the final product and appreciated it the very most.

Still, though, she had times when she wondered why she chose this career, even if she knew every reason. Today was, unfortunately, one of those days.

“Listen, there’s no reason why—”

“There are several reasons why I won’t meet your demands for this gallery showing,” Lucia said. “And if you want, I will repeat them to you, Mr. Tremblay.”

“Listen, Luc—”

“Mrs. Zulla.”

She almost smiled at the way the man stiffened a bit, standing a little straighter in front of her. And not even because of him, but simply because she liked the way that name came out of her mouth. Years after marrying Renzo, here she was at twenty-nine, and damn … she still loved saying her surname, the one he’d given her.

It was something he’d waffled on. A part of him hadn’t wanted her taking the name because of what he’d seen as a stain that covered it. A legacy that wasn’t hers to carry; a burden only he should carry alone. Someone had thought to suggest maybe he take her surname, and Lucia would have been just fine with that, too.

Instead, she’d fought for his name.

Who he was.

Renzo Zulla.

That’s who she’d met him as all those years ago. That’s the man she knew, the one she’d fallen in love with, and the same one who’d proven time and time again that he was absolutely worthy of her the same way she was destined for him. So yeah, she’d taken his name and she wore it with pride. She hoped he did, now, too.

At least, he seemed to.

Leaning back in the white leather office chair that rested behind her glass desk, Lucia waited for a response from the other person in the room. The man—who’d thought coming a couple of feet inside her office while he barked at her about what he wanted for his upcoming showing, in her gallery, would get him what he wanted—fumed. Some men were like that—didn’t appreciate a woman in any position of power, and certainly not one that was above them. In Lucia’s business as the owner and director of an art gallery that she’d taken over from her aunt, Kim, a couple of years back, well … it could be even more prevalent.

Plus, art was all about passion.

Artists were passionate.

They had a vision.

She got that.

Understood it perfectly fine.

Unfortunately, the vision of the artist didn’t always translate to success. And that’s where she came into play. All those art degrees she’d worked for, and the business one added on top just for good measure, well, that shit wasn’t just for decoration. She understood what would make art sell in this market. She knew how to put an artist’s work on display, and make their name and brand stand out, without them even needing to be in the same room to do it.

“I just think that we should do it my way, considering it’s my art,” Mason said, trying to soften his stance a bit. Maybe so he didn’t look as … arrogant standing there. Who was she to say? It was too little, too late for her, though, because Lucia saw right through it. “And that is the point of this showing, right? To show off my art?”

“No, actually.”

“Pardon?”

Lucia smiled. “The point of the showing is to sell your art. And if you think having my clientele walk through this place, after it has been turned into some trash heap because it’ll go with the theme, as you say, then you came to the wrong place to get this done. So, what do you want to do? Sell your art and make money so that someday you can put your entire vision on display the way you want to, or cut your contract with me and go your way? By all means, I will let you make the choice and won’t say a word about it otherwise.”