Chapter 5

KATE, MELODY, AND I sat together most of Wednesday evening going through our portfolios. Kate had some impressive work. She loved charcoal, but she had an incredible talent with pastels and acrylics. She painted awesome detail. As a result, she tended to paint small things very large. I mean, she’d look at a landscape, and instead of painting the whole thing, she would paint every detail of a single flower in the foreground with the rest looking blurred in the background. I’d never seen someone paint such idiosyncratic depth of field.

She loved my new painting of Lissa, Beth, and Melody in the woods, but when I showed her the sketch that I’d done after the fact, she liked it even more. The oil I was working on was the scene they’d posed in the woods. Beth was on the rock with Melody to her left and Lissa to her right. They were smiling, loving, a little mischievous, and very pastoral. But the sketch I’d done later was of the three laughing and splashing each other in the water. It was less posed and I loved the action. That scene was burned into my memory.

We finally put together a portfolio that showed an equal number of my pieces and hers and went to meet Clarice on Thursday at noon.

Wendy met us when we walked into Carmine’s Cucina and gave each of us a hug. We went straight over to Clarice’s booth and slid in. She immediately started perusing our portfolio. Wendy brought us Cokes and we each ordered a salad. Now that I was working out, I was becoming more conscious of what I ate. I’d lost two pounds in the past week.

“This is good,” Clarice said. “It’s not enough, but you knew that. Kate, we need more painting. Your charcoals are beautiful, but look, they are already smudging. Kids, you’ve got to look at your work as your assets. Pieces like this need to be protected and sealed—preferably behind glass. You can’t let them transfer to other pieces.”

“Yes ma’am,” Kate said politely. She looked sheepish.

“Tony, the oils have higher value in the market than the watercolors. The two of the nymphs in the woods we’ll want to keep as a pair if we can. They’ll be matched in size, won’t they?”

“I’m not sure I want to sell those,” I said. Clarice looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

“There may not be any need for us to continue,” she said. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I represent artists who are ready to enter the market. That means selling their works. If you are simply painting for your own pleasure, that’s different.”

“It’s just ... they’re my friends ... and lovers.”

“Then get models you aren’t emotionally attached to. And paint something besides nudes. That’s not the biggest market right now. The Internet killed it. But I need to know, if you are going to paint works that can be sold or works that you want to keep hidden in your own bedroom. You decide.”

“I want to sell,” I said. “It’s just been a little sudden. I know this is a great opportunity.”

“Then let’s talk contract. Did your lawyer look it over?”

“He said it was fair and only questioned how much ‘management’ you would be doing. It sounds like you have pretty strong opinions regarding what I should be painting.”

“No,” Clarice said. “You paint whatever you want in whatever medium you want. I’ll be very straight with you, though. I can simply negotiate the sale of your Suite and commissioned works, or I can help launch your career. If I’m launching your career, I need nine salable works—not including the portraits you exhibit that are commissioned—from each of you in six months. If you commit to that, I can get the space and you can both make a successful entry into the market. You have to answer whether that’s what you want out of your college education. I won’t be able to put your first painting in an art museum where lots of people will see it, so selling in a show is the best I can do. After the first show, you will need to keep producing artwork at a rate that we can keep doing shows and keep selling. If you stop producing, we’ll stop selling. If you stop selling, it is much harder to start again. That’s what I do to manage your career.”

“I’m good with that,” I said. “It will be hard, but I can do it.”

Clarice pushed the contract over to me to sign. Our lawyer, Mr. MacDonald, had gone through the papers and pointed out where I would have to sign when I made my decision. I also had to fill in my address, date of birth, and Social Security number. I found the places in the contract and signed them. I was now an agented artist. Clarice signed and I had representation for the next twelve months.

“Now, Kate,” Clarice said. “I have a contract for you as well if you want representation.”

“I’d rather not sign one right now,” Kate said quickly.

“Of course. I made Tony take his with him, too. We can still work something out for the exhibition in February, even without a contract.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Kate said. “I mean, I’ll commit to doing the show and we can make an agreement before that. I’d like to wait at least a couple of months until I know how this fall is going to go in school.”

“That’s not a problem,” Clarice said. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do and it’s a beautiful afternoon in July.”

We left Carmine’s Cucina and I walked Kate back to work at the Art Museum. I’m not sure how it happened, but somewhere along Second Avenue, Kate’s hand slipped into mine as we walked. We talked about what was happening in our lives, how exciting and overwhelming the conversation with Clarice was, and even about the upcoming birthday party for Damon on Saturday.

“Um ... I have a question,” Kate said. I was getting used to the fluctuation between Kate the confident negotiator and business woman and Kate the shy and hesitant girlfriend. She squeezed my hand a little harder.

“What is it, Kitten?”

“I have tickets to see Ladysmith Black Mambazo at Woodland Park Zoo next weekend and I was hoping you’d come,” she said softly.

I was acutely aware of Kate holding my hand and had a moment of panic, almost letting go. We’d become such good friends and we were hoping to invite Kate into our lives, but Kate was asking me out.

“Kate ... um ... you know that I ... um ... like you a lot, but it’s not like I just go out and date people besides Lissa and Melody. I mean...”

“Tony! You ass! I wouldn’t ask you out without Lissa and Melody. Not on our first date. I’ve got four tickets. Do I need to speak Southern and say I was hoping all y’all’d come?”

I laughed at myself. Then I heard what she was saying.

“Our first date?” I asked. “Are you asking the three of us out on a date?”

“Well ... um ... yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t do it right. I’ve never done it before.”

I was grinning so hard I thought my face would break. I pulled her into a hug.

“Let’s do it right, then,” I said. I pulled out my phone and dialed the connection that would ring on both Lissa’s and Melody’s phones at once.

“Did you do it?” Melody shouted. “Did you sign?”

“Yes,” I said. “I now have an agent.”

“That’s wonderful, darling,” Lissa said. “Are we on speaker phone? There’s an echo.”

“Yes. I’m standing under the Hammering Man with just the cutest little brunette you’ve ever met,” I said. Kate blushed and pushed at my arm, but she kept hold of my hand. “She’s just popped the question.”

“What?” screeched Melody. “Which question? I’ve got about twenty of them!”

I turned to Kate and held up the phone.

“Oh ... I thought this would be easier if I just spoke to one of you first and you’d all just ... Oh. Tony ... Melody ... Lissa ... would you go out with me to see Ladysmith Black Mambazo at Woodland Park Zoo a week from Saturday? I’d ... I’d ... I’d like to take you out on a date.”

There was a squeal over the phone and I could just see Melody bouncing up and down.

“Yes!” all three of us said.

“We’d love to go out with you,” Lissa said. “What should we wear?”

Okay. Now that’s just silly. We just accepted a date with a girl we’ve been crushing on for months and the first topic of discussion is what should we wear? To the zoo? There were a few moments of excited chatter before Kate said she really had to get back to work, but she’d see us on Saturday for Damon’s party. I told my lovers I’d see them soon and gave Kate a sweet, gentle kiss—three times—before she went into the museum to continue her day’s work.