His voice became serious.
“I don’t feel sorry for your talent.”
I swallowed.
“Then why?”
“Because I liked the painting.”
I was quiet.
He continued.
“If you don’t want to accept the commission, that’s perfectly fine.”
“What kind of landscape?”
“A lake at sunrise.”
I smiled faintly.
“Any particular lake?”
“Surprise me.”
I hesitated.
Then said, “My commissions aren’t cheap.”
His laugh was warm.
“I would hope not.”
For the first time, I negotiated the price of something I’d created.
I named an amount that made my stomach flutter.
Damien accepted it without argument.
The commission took three weeks.
I painted a quiet lake beneath an early morning sky.
Soft gold light touched the water.
A narrow path ran along the shore.
And in the distance, the darkness was gradually giving way to morning.
When I delivered the painting, Damien invited me to his office.
The same office.
The same enormous walnut desk.
