Chapter 183

Almara’s Pov

I just finished my latest painting when Arthur entered the room. He has his head down and eyes glued to his phone, which has been his usual posture for the last week ever since Roman said he would be giving Arthur’s share of the funds to Robert.

Of course, Robert has been posting every extravagant item he’s purchased, every decadent meal, expensive designer clothing bought, and every other good that money can buy. “Falling into the comparison trap again?” I ask, dunking my brush into a cup of murky water.

Arthur sighs and tosses his phone on the bed. “My father knew that Robert would squander every cent given to him. I just can’t understand why he’s doing it.”

“Because he also knew that Robert would show off every single thing he buys and you would eventually see it, in the hopes to make you jealous and come crawling back to him.” I point out and remove my smock. “Is it working?”

“No,” Arthur says sharply. Then he looks past me and at the painting behind me. His eyes say it all before his words do. “Jeez Almara, this painting is- it’s incredible.” He says. I blush, but I know it’s my best work yet. Each one just seems to out preform the last.

This piece in particular is taken from human inspiration. They have something called Greek gods and goddesses, though they just remind me of faeries. Still, this is a pastel color painting that I hope depicts something like a dream where these angelic beings are sitting somewhere on clouds far away from our perception.

“I’m going to list it for five grand,” I say and hold my breath as I wait for Arthur’s reaction.

“Go for seven.” He says as if that’s even a possibility.

“No way,” I tell him. “Last time I listened to your pricing advice, I had to sell a handful of paintings just to make what you suggested”

“True, but didn’t your last painting sell for five grand?” Arthur says and a weird delight spreads throughout my body at our casual conversation of the high prices my paintings are selling for.

“Yes, I don’t want to push it.” I admit. “I’m worried if I start pushing them for too much too quickly then buyers will retreat.” I shrug. I honestly have no idea how any of this business stuff works. I never even expected to be making this much from my paintings in the first place.

“Why don’t you set it up as a bidding piece?” Arthur says taking my hand in his.

“A what?” I ask, even more lost.

“You know, you say it’s for sale and it goes to the highest bidder. That way you can see just exactly how much people are willing to pay for your beautiful creations.” Arthur says and I have to agree, it’s a good idea.

“Speaking of beautiful creations, my mother should be back with Grace any minute. Want to go to town and get lunch?” I ask.

“Absolutely. I need to get out of here and do something other than scroll on my phone.”

“That’s the spirit,” I say and kiss Arthur. “I’m going to attempt to wash the paint off my, well off my everything,” I say taking notice of all the spots the paint somehow ended up despite wearing a cover.

Thirty minutes later Arthur, Grace, and I stroll into Susan’s Café. The bell chimes over our head and Susan looks up from the register. “Hi, guys!” I open my mouth to reply, but something catches me off guard.

“Is that my painting?” I ask and point to a painting I did forever ago. It’s a painting of a latte and scone that I made after my mom and I came year a while back. I gave it to Susan as a gift, but really more so as a peace offering so she would see me as she’s always known me, not just here Luna.

Susan follows to where my finger is pointing. “Yes!” Sorry it took me so long to put it up, you know how time just gets away.”

“Right,” I agree even though I think she just gave me some lame excuse.

“People ask all the time where I got it and I tell them from our very own Luna.” She says and I try my best to smile.

Arthur playfully nudges my side. “That’ll be Artists Luna from now on.”

“Of course, Alpha.” Susan rushes to apologize, but I wave her off. “He’s joking. I’m glad people like the painting.” I say and want to move on to the part where we order.

“Actually, I was just telling Almara that she should have a bidding for more of her paintings. What do you think of hosting it?” Arthur asks and my face turns bright red.

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly-” I begin to say, but Susan is already nodding so violently I’m worried her neck with snap.

“Yes! Of course. I would love to help.” Susan beams and then lowers her voice, “Not to mention, it would help with business having the even here.”

“Great, it’s settled then,” Arthur says and now I’m the one who nudges his side. Still, he continues on, “How’s Friday night at 7 o’clock?”

“I’ll make the flyers right away.” Susan says with a firm nod.

“Thank you, Susan,” I say through a sheepish smile. I feel bad imposing on her place like that, but if she said it’s good for her business too then I guess there’s no harm done.

By the time Saturday rolls around, I’ve completed four paintings in addition to the Greek Goddess inspired one. Between the diner and the paintings, I’ve basically been working around the clock pumped on adrenaline.

I’ve publicly showcased my work before, but this is the first time where people are going to directly tell me how much they think it’s worth. What if no one wants to buy anything?

I’m meeting Arthur at Susan’s café with my parents. He’s been helping her set up all day and when my parents and I arrive, we hardly recognize the place.

There’s a red carpet leading to the door and the walls of the building have been draped in greenery and white budding flowers. Porch lights are hanging from shepherd's hooks and a lit-up sign presents my name.

“Wow, it looks really great!” My mother practically squeals into my ear.

“Yeah, it does.” I agree. I try to relish in the fact that these beautiful decorations have been set up for me. We walk through the front door and instantly someone butlers to us some champagne.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” Arthur says. He’s put on his tailored black tux and looks painfully handsome. Though I didn’t see him before he left in the morning, I somehow managed to match him in my slim-fitted black dress and strappy black pumps.

“Arthur, how did we afford all of this?” I ask and look around to see the candles caged inside box lanterns strategically placed in clusters around the corners of the room, more pots of flowers and plants, and the array of hors d’oeuvres being passed on silver plates.

“Hardly anything. Cathy said the florist owed her favor, the red carpet is a rental, and the food is all homemade.” Arthur says with a proud smile on his face. “Who knew cheap things could look rich?” He says with a laugh. “We have thirty minutes before doors open. So eat and drink while you can.”

We clink glasses and as the fizzy liquid travels down my throat a warmth spreads over my body that’s more than just from the alcohol. “Thank you.” I tell him, and I mean it. Arthur has lost everything and when it was offered back he said no and has been working to support my dreams.

“It’s what mates are for.” He says with a wink. As the time ticks away, I nurse on two more champagnes. Every time a nervous inclination arose, I took a sip. Like a little drinking game with myself. Now I have a good enough buzz just as potential buyers are being let in.

I take my seat facing the rows of other chairs and wait to be judged.