The Art of Zen, page 45
“Do you want me to take them out for you?” Marcelo offered.
“No,” Tia answered. “I’ll get to them.” She looked at the supplies Mario had displayed and rubbed her hands together with anticipation. “You ready to get to work?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely.”
Marcelo took this as his cue to leave. “I’ll get out of your way. Boss has me running some other errands, but I’m supposed to bring you two some lunch.”
Tia closed and locked the door behind him. She turned to Mario and smiled at his boyish look of excitement. “Thank you for agreeing to this.”
“Nothing to it! Sure beats cleaning up after Carlos.” He rolled up his sleeves and gestured to the new supplies stacked on her coffee table in the living room. “What’s with the tiles?”
She motioned for him to follow her into her studio, and opened the closet door to reveal all of her ruined canvases.
“Holy shit,” Mario breathed. “I’d be so pissed off.”
“I am,” Tia answered. Her heart broke a little to remember her work intact and how proud of it she was.
“Can I ask why you kept it all?”
“For a few reasons,” she stated. “First, I’m emotionally attached, so it’s hard to let it go.”
“And second?” Mario asked.
“Second, this is part of the project I’m going to have you work on. You see, normally I don’t believe in mass-produced items. But after a long talk with Spencer last night, I’m starting to come around. It gives those who can’t afford one of my originals a chance to have a piece of my work without the sticker shock.”
“I’d jump at a chance for any of my work to be featured, mass-produced or not,” Mario enthused.
Tia remembered what it was like to be so eager. “I’ll see to it that you get a chance.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’ll do what I can to help.” She selected the ruined painting of Times Square and showed Mario the frame structure of the canvas. “I need you to remove the canvases from their wooden frames.” She walked back into the living room and handed him the flat edge screwdriver she had him purchase. “This should pop the staples out easily. Then I want you to use the paper cutter to cut each salvageable part of the canvases into 4x4 squares.”
“What?” Mario asked, shocked. He shook his head with uncertainty. “You’re asking me to destroy your work, Miss Tia. I don’t know if I can bring myself to do it.”
She appreciated his empathy. “Someone already took the liberty to destroy it, Mario. You’re going to help me repurpose it.”
“Ok,” he said slowly, then picked up a ceramic tile. “What exactly are we making?”
“Coasters!” Tia exclaimed. Her laughter was light as it danced through the air. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? But, it gives me the last word. Whoever the bastard is that destroyed my work is going to make me a nice chunk of change by turning it into coasters. Depending on how many we can create from each canvas, I could be sitting on a little goldmine. You’ll get a percentage, of course.”
Mario turned the tile over in his hands. He could see her vision and thought it was a wonderful idea. “How much do you think you can get for these babies?”
“In Vivian’s gallery?” Tia pondered the thought. “At least a hundred a set. One of a kind coasters featuring work from yours truly. The socialites will love a kitschy little item like that and be willing to shell out quite a bit.”
She sat with him for a few minutes and explained the process. Clean the tiles with a light spritz of alcohol and let them dry. Use the paper cutter to shape as many squares as possible. Spread Modge Podge glue onto the tile. Place the artwork on the tile and also cover it with the glue. Once this process was complete, they would need to dry for one day. The next step would be for Mario to place them on a baking sheet, take them onto the balcony, and spray each tile with the engine enamel. Doing this in a ventilated space was important. The coasters would then sit for at least a week. When they were fully cured, rubber cement would be used to adhere a cork backing to each tile which would then be left to set for another week.
Mario picked up on the idea quickly, just as Tia knew he would. While he busied himself with the coasters, Tia started to work on her first painting. She was glad she didn’t take the time to sketch rough drafts. The images she wanted to put onto canvas were from her heart, and the series would be perfect for the time of year she had in mind for a new show. Valentine’s Day. If she worked hard enough, and she was confident she could, in just over sixty days, she would have enough work to display. Tia rarely put herself into a painting available to the public. Those pieces were saved for her personal collection. This new series would feature a love story. Sweet, sexy, scandalous, and even the sad moments shared between herself and Spencer Chadwick. How he would feel about being one of the stars of her show, she wasn’t sure. What she was sure of was that he wouldn’t find out until the night they were displayed.
Getting lost in a creation was one of Tia’s favorite parts of being an artist. Marcelo had come and gone with lunch. Mario was hard at work cutting the canvases. She briefly heard from Spencer and had smiled small, silly smiles to herself after he filled her in on the conversation with his mother. She knew it was only a matter of time before her mother called her. At two PM, her cell phone rang. Tia was not surprised to see her mother’s phone number. She excused herself to Mario and walked to her bedroom to take the call.
“Hi, Mom,” she greeted.
“Tatiana!” Both of her parents cried at once.
“Why are you up at this hour?” Tia wondered.
“We’re in London now,” Thomas answered. “It’s evening here.”
Her mother took over the conversation. “I just had a lovely, and enlightening phone call with Beth Chadwick!”
“Shocker,” Tia muttered, then giggled to herself as she recalled Spencer’s rundown of the call with his mother. She composed herself and kept her voice innocent. “Oh, really?”
“Don’t you play coy with me,” Abby teased. “When were you planning on telling us you moved in with Spencer?”
“Um, now?” Tia answered.
“This is a big step,” her father said.
“I know it is-”
“You haven’t lived with anyone since Robert,” Abby interrupted. “And that didn’t turn out well.”
Tia’s parents knew that she was living with Robert at that time. They were never fans of his and were happy to see her on her own when it ended. Though Tia never shared the cold, hard facts with them. “He’s not Robert.”
“Of course, he’s not. But, it’s a big step, just like your father said.”
Thomas chimed in with a different thought. “Have you contacted a private investigator yet?”
“No,” Tia said. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to do much. We know who was behind everything, but we have no proof.”
“Tatiana-” Thomas began.
“Daddy,” Tia cut him off. “Can we not? Not right now. I’m working and I want to focus on painting.”
“Oh!” Abby perked up. “I’m so happy to hear that. We’ll get to that in a minute. Now tell me all about your relationship with Spencer.”
“Not all of it,” Thomas grumbled playfully. “There are parts a father doesn’t want to hear.”
Tia took it in stride. Her parents were going to worry about her with everything that recently happened in her life. She patiently answered questions about her new relationship, which were followed by questions about her future with Spencer. Those she had no answer to and Tia was fine with that. What they had now worked for both of them. After thirty minutes of chitchat with her mother, since her father had bowed out of the conversation to get ready for bed, Tia wrapped things up with the reassurance that she was happy and content with her new living situation. Abby encouraged her to think more seriously about the private investigator, but in Tia’s heart, she truly felt it would be a waste of money.
The rest of the day went quickly. Tia got to a stopping point with her first painting and told Mario to start cleaning up for the day. As he did so, she walked into the kitchen for a bottle of water. The box of flowers on the counter caught her eye. She hadn’t given them a second thought all day. She opened them up all the way and took a long look at the beautiful flowers. Without hesitation, she opened a nearby drawer for her kitchen shears and proceeded to clip off every bloom of every stem. She turned when she heard laughter behind her.
Mario stood in the doorway. His onyx eyes sparkled with humor. He shook his head when Tia raised a brow at him. “Brutal,” he laughed.
“Vivian deserves it.” Tia very calmly repackaged the box. She scooped up the buds and petals in her hands and dropped them in, then closed the box securely.
“What the fuck did she do?” Mario wondered.
“She went behind my back and printed a thousand copies of a book of my work.”
He shrugged. “So?”
“So?” she repeated, her eyes wide with shock and irritation. “She didn’t have my permission.”
He leaned casually against the doorframe and returned her raised brow with one of his own. “Ok, fine, I get it. But, come on, Miss Tia. Do you have any idea how many writers and artists would love to sell a thousand copies of something? It’s a big fucking deal. I’d love a book.”
She didn’t want to see his side of it. Not yet. Eventually, she’d get there. “Mario,” she said with just a hint of haughtiness. “While you’re working for me, you’ll take my side.”
His laughter increased as he nodded and gave her an easy shrug. “Works for me. What are you going to do with them?”
“There’s fifty dollars in it for you if you’ll personally deliver them to her gallery right now.”
“You got it,” he agreed.
“I need to do something first.” Tia removed the card from the small envelope once more. She grabbed a nearby pen, scratched out Vivian’s note, and wrote one of her own.
Mario helped Tia lock up her studio. At her request, he walked her across the hall and gave the place a quick sweep to reassure her that no one was there. Even though she knew it would be nearly impossible, she was still skittish to be alone and didn’t want to get spooked by every noise she heard.
She took a long shower. Getting messy was another part of her job she enjoyed, but it always felt good to scrub the paint off of her nails and skin. After she was clean, she finger-combed her curls and left them damp and loose around her shoulders. Naked, she slipped into a bright blue silk kimono and waited for Spencer to return home.
She didn’t wait long. Within a half-hour, she heard his key in the lock. Tia wasn’t sure if it was because they had gone a full two weeks without being intimate, if it was because their relationship was still in the new stages, or because she was charged with energy from working. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to question it. To see Spencer walk through the door wearing his suit and tie, with his briefcase in one hand and a bag of takeout from a nearby Thai place in the other, Tia wanted him. Now. She walked to him, slipped her arms around his neck, and planted a firm kiss on his mouth.
“Hello, to you,” Spencer greeted her with a grin.
Tia was pleased to see his blue eyes spark with desire. She was vaguely aware of him setting down the items in his hands before he placed his hands on her. “Hi,” she breathed. She slid her fingers into his hair as he pulled her close. Still spiked with want for him, Tia couldn’t hold back the giggles.
“What’s so funny?”
“My mom called me.”
“Oh, God,” Spencer groaned. He rested his forehead against hers and joined in her laughter. “Did my mom beat you to the news?”
“She sure did,” Tia giggled, and began to loosen his tie. “I got to answer questions about our plans for the future, tell them if there were any wedding bells to be heard. I stopped her before she could get onto the subject of grandchildren.”
Spencer untied the sash at her waist and slipped his hands inside the soft silk. The ideas of marriage and children weren’t unpleasant, but making love to the woman he adored seemed like a better idea. “Good thinking,” he praised. “Do you want to talk about that right now?”
Tia shimmied out of the robe and let it fall into a pool at her feet. She stood boldly before him. “Do I look like I want to talk right now?”
“God, no,” he breathed. He held her close and kissed her, then walked her backward into the living room and toward the couch.
Mario walked into the gallery. The door chimed softly as he opened it and let it close behind him. He could hear low voices coming from a distant room. As he looked around at the polished hardwood floors and various paintings on display, he couldn’t help but take a minute to daydream about seeing his work featured here one day. He was snapped out of his reverie when he was greeted brightly by the curvaceous, friendly redhead. He had only met her once when he went to Tia’s loft the day Vivian met with the movers.
“Hello!” Vivian said with a smile. Her footsteps slowed when she saw the beautiful Latin man in her gallery. “What can I do for you, Mario?”
“Hey there,” Mario greeted her. He resisted the urge to look her up and down. Did she really prefer women? That was a damn shame. “I have a delivery for you from Miss Tia.”
Vivian’s mouth snapped open in surprise. “Miss Tia?” she questioned. “How is she?”
“She’s good. I worked with her today. For now, I’m assisting her.”
“Really?” Vivian murmured with interest. “With what?”
Mario hadn’t been briefed on what he could and couldn’t share, but since Tia warned him he was to take her side, he kept their work relationship neutral. “Just on a new project.” He held up the floral box to show Vivian. “Where would you like this?”
Vivian smiled and clasped her hands against her chest when she recognized the box. “Oh, how wonderful! I sent her something from the same shop this morning. It looks like we’re on the same page.”
“Yeah,” Mario mumbled. “Something like that. Where would you like them?”
“Over here is fine.” She gestured toward the front counter. As Mario placed the box on the surface, Vivian reached into the cash register drawer for a twenty. She stopped when Mario held up his hand.
Usually, he wasn’t one to turn down twenty bucks, but his pocket held the fifty from Tia and he didn’t feel right taking money from someone Tia was currently fighting with. Especially since what was in that box wasn’t a friendly gesture. “That’s not necessary, but thank you.”
“Ok.” Vivian replaced the money. “It’s nice to see you again, Mario.”
“Yeah, you too.” He waved at her, then opened the door. “Have a good evening.”
As the door closed behind him, Vivian opened the box with an eager smile. That smile faded when the petals from the roses and irises tumbled onto her countertop. “Tia, you little shit,” she whispered. Vivian picked up the trash can from under the counter and scooped the ruined petals into the bin. Her curiosity was piqued when she saw Tia’s handwriting on the card on the outside of the box. With a brief hesitation at what she was sure would be a slew of swear words, she opened the envelope and took out the card. Her initial message was scratched out and Tia’s script was scrawled underneath.
I’m working. Don’t bother me.
Tia
A laugh escaped Vivian’s throat. She tapped her fingers on the counter as she shook her head. Did she expect anything less from her best friend? She was ok with this action from Tia. Sass meant forgiveness was right around the corner. More importantly, Tia’s message made her beam with pride. Vivian blinked back to the present when she heard her client clear his throat in the private salesroom. She needed to get back to him and close a sale.
With one last glance at Tia’s message, she tucked the note in her pocket. Her fingertips touched the headless green rose stems. Her heart soared with pride. She couldn’t wait to see Tia’s work. “Well...” She let out a lengthy sigh. “At least she’s working.”
Chapter 31
The creations were on a roll. In the two weeks since Tia had hired Mario to work for her, he had created coasters out of almost all of the initial batch of the ceramic tiles. They were done in stages and the first half was nearly complete with the curing. Next week she would send him out to purchase an additional two hundred tiles.
Tia was on fire. She was supercharged with energy and showed no signs of stopping. Fourteen days into her paintings and she had created a dozen pieces of work. They weren’t complete in her eyes, but they were close. When the paint dried and she had all of the images for the series that were in her head put onto canvases, then she would go back and tweak what she needed to. It wasn’t unusual for her to create a painting per day when she was this motivated. Per Spencer’s request, she listened to her body and kept as close to a routine as she possibly could. She woke up early every day, some days before the sun, and went to her studio. By the time Mario arrived every morning, she had drawings outlined and paint colors mixed and was typically elbow deep in creation. Her breakfasts were simple. Coffee and a granola bar, except for the days Mario came with bagels or breakfast burritos, courtesy of Spencer via Marcelo. Marcelo was like clockwork, showing up by one o’clock with their lunch every afternoon. Tia sent Mario home by five o’clock every evening and gave him the weekends off. She wrapped up her day at the same time he did and allowed herself a few hours on the weekends to analyze her work and recharge for the week ahead.
Late on a Saturday morning, Spencer watched Tia from the door of their bedroom. Nearly noon and the woman he loved was still sound asleep. In the middle of the bed, at that! He didn’t mind. He was happy to see how hard she was working. Though there was a small part of him that felt slightly wounded that she wouldn’t let him take a peek at her creations. She had filled him in on the coaster project, which he thought was brilliant, but her paintings remained top secret. More than once he had to remind himself that he promised her he would respect her process, but he was curious. To his knowledge, Tia had come to bed somewhere around three in the morning. He took advantage of the quiet morning and caught up on emails, then looked over the budget for Tatiana’s, and did another pass-through of his to-do list for the opening. Everything was on schedule and he was confident he could get through the holidays with little to no stress. After Christmas, he would allow himself to get in the zone. Right now, he forced himself to relax. However, with it being the middle of the day, he decided Tia had slept enough. He wanted to spend the rest of the day with her and indulge in some holiday cheer. Spencer walked to the window, pressed the button to open the blinds, and watched Tia rouse from her sleep.
