One Hot Secret by Sarah J. Brooks
Chapter 24
Grace
“You look like a little kid being taken to a toy store,” Kyle laughingly says.
“That’s how I feel.”
It was Kyle’s idea to drive me down to the gallery to tour where my artwork will be displayed. I can’t sit still in the car, and I keep imagining my paintings hanging up for people to see and buy them. It’s exhilarating and frightening.
The only sad thing is that I can’t share the news with my mother. It’s been a week since we exchanged words, and though we’ve spoken once, the conversation was stilted and just a formality to check on each other. It saddens me that our relationship has deteriorated so rapidly.
Still, I’m not willing to do what she asks and end my relationship with Kyle. I’m not twelve years old, and even though I’m making a mistake, it’s my mistake, and I’m the one who’ll have to live with it. I expect support from my parents, not condemnation.
I understand where they’re coming from, having been in the same place myself. Looking back, I can’t believe the blanket judgment I had for everyone in the public eye. It was an unfair conclusion to reach that all celebrities are party animals, unfaithful, and irresponsible.
One good thing that has come out of this week is that the media attention in me has waned. They’ve moved on to other people and scandals, and I’m glad they have stopped camping outside Kyle’s gate. I’ve even managed to pop into my apartment to check on things.
It’s been the most amazing week getting to know Kyle with no interruptions apart from our work. We’ve been like a regular couple with him going off for final wardrobe fittings and pre-shoots, and I, of course, working on my painting.
“Hey before I forget, the award show is in a few days,” Kyle says. “I’d really love it if you came as my date. Everyone knows about us; there’s no harm, is there?”
I take a deep breath and give him a shaky smile. I’ve lived my life privately for years, and when asked to go out in public, I default to the Grace, who would do anything to keep herself from the public eye. “I don’t have a dress.” I can’t believe that’s the best excuse I could come up with. I sound like a child.
Kyle smiles indulgently. “I’m sure we can find a way around that.”
It dawns on me how unfair I would be if I refused. I can’t date Kyle and insist on privacy when he’s a movie star. It’s not only unfair; it’s naïve. I need to accept Kyle for who he is and support him in his work, just as he has been supporting me in mine.
I smile widely. “Okay, the answer’s yes.”
He wears a skeptical look. “That smile is as fake as they come, but I’ll take it.”
I let out a genuine laugh.
Kyle takes my hand and stares at me solemnly. “I’m very proud of you. I know how hard it is for you.” He turns my hand around and kisses it. “Thank you.”
I turn to mush. I’m too emotional to respond, but I don’t need to as the car slows down. I peer out and stare at the gallery. It’s huge. A lot bigger than I expected, and my heart pounds crazily in my chest. I suddenly feel like an imposter. Solo shows are for famous artists, not amateurs like me who have never even shown their art to more than five people. The car glides to a stop, and Ethan cuts off the engine. Terror grips my insides, and all I want is to turn back and go back home.
“Hey, you look as white as chalk,” Kyle says gently.
I stare at him. “I think this was a bad idea. I’m not ready for a solo show.”
“Imposter syndrome?” Kyle says softly. “I get it too sometimes, just before we start filming, and I have to remind myself that the casting director knew what he was doing when he gave me the role.”
Kyle is so cool and composed. It’s near impossible to think of him as insecure about his talent. Everyone knows how gifted he is.
“Even if you feel that you’re not ready for a solo show, can you at least trust that Greg knows his job? It’s not up to you to decide. It’s Greg’s, and if he thinks your work is good enough for his gallery, who are you to say otherwise?”
I inhale deeply as his words penetrate my brain. “You have a point there,” I say tentatively. The more I let his words sink in, the more they make sense. Greg has been in the art industry for years, and in that time, he has seen a lot of work from various artists. He definitely knows what he’s doing. “I may not be the best judge for my work.”
Kyle grins and squeezes my hand. “That’s my girl. You deserve this, Grace, and you’ll be awesome. I can’t wait for the world to discover you.”
His enthusiasm is catching. I grin back. “Let’s do this.”
“I’ll just let him know that we’re here,” Kyle says and fishes out his phone.
As he types the message, I look at the space above the entrance where they write the name of the featured artist and imagine my name up there. Grace Hughes. That will be one special day. I hope that my parents will make it to the show. It will mean everything to me to share that day with them.
“He says we can go in now,” Kyle says, and we get out of the car.
We walk up to the closed double doors, but when we get nearer, they slide open, and a smiling woman lets us in.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Bryce. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time the last time you were here. I didn’t recognize you,” she says.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle says and gestures to me to enter first.
The woman’s eyes are on Kyle, and I could just as well be invisible as far as she’s concerned. I walk past her, and she doesn’t shift her gaze from Kyle. It’s a bit amusing but also offensive. I’m soon distracted and forget the woman’s bad manners and start to admire the art on the walls.
The pieces are gorgeous, and I’m soon lost in a world of colors and feelings as the artwork evokes deep emotions in me.
“Your work is even more beautiful,” a deep voice says behind me, and I jump, startled.
I whirl around to find Greg and Kyle beaming at me. I was so lost in admiring the forest landscape in front of me that I didn’t hear them come up behind me.
I shake Greg’s hand, and Kyle drapes his arm around me as we move to the next piece. It’s another landscape, this time of a forest, but the more I look at it, the more layers begin to emerge. I spot squirrels hiding underneath the underground as well as insects and small plants winding around the massive trees. It’s like going on an Easter egg hunt, and I find myself chuckling at every new discovery.
“Did you see this?” Kyle says, pointing at a frog relaxing by the side of a narrow stream.
I laugh. “I hadn’t seen it.”
We spend the next couple of minutes pointing out hidden animals and other objects in the painting. Greg tells us about the artist. He’s known all over the art world, and I tremble inwardly at the thought of my work hanging on the same wall his work hangs.
“I’m beside myself with excitement,” Greg says and laughs softly. “I’ve been dropping hints to everyone, but they all want to know who my new discovery is. Of course, I don’t intend on telling anyone, but it’s fun to see the excitement build up.”
“I hope they won’t be disappointed,” I say, voicing my fears.
“I promise you, they’ll be blown away,” he says in a way that allays my fears.
We spend an hour at the gallery, looking at the paintings and hearing about the various artists Greg has worked with over the years. Most of it is for my benefit, perhaps to give me confidence that he really does know his stuff. I’m grateful for what he’s doing, given that he doesn’t have to.
I’m more relaxed on our way back home, and Kyle comments on it.
“Your friend is a good person,” I tell him in response.
“Yeah, Greg is awesome, and he loves art. He lives and breathes it,” Kyle says.
“I feel bad that we kept him for so long, but it was exciting being there. I lost track of time.”
Kyle chuckles. “Don’t. Greg will be there for another two hours or even more. He’s a workaholic if I ever met one.”
That makes me feel a whole lot better. Back home, we let ourselves into the quiet house. It feels so peaceful shutting the world away and just being the two of us. I’ve become comfortable in Kyle’s house very fast. He was right that it would be better to stay with him rather than at my apartment for security reasons. His home is like a utopia. Here, I feel protected from the harshness of the world and mostly the media. Kyle sued the tabloid magazine, which used a drone to take pictures of us in the swimming pool, and though he has assured me that it won’t happen again, I’m still shy about going out there.
Maria has left us dinner in the oven, and Kyle gets it out and serves it on the island. As always, it smells wonderful.
“I’m becoming spoiled and too used to this lifestyle of yours,” I tell Kyle.
“I hope so, that way, you’ll never want to leave,” he says.
“You might want to leave me.”
He shakes his head. “Never going to happen.”
He makes me feel like the winner of a beauty contest. We chat as we eat dinner, and afterward, we carry a bottle of chilled wine and some glasses to the cozy living room. The lighting in there is muted, giving it a romantic atmosphere.
“My stylist will come the day after tomorrow with some clothes for you to pick from,” Kyle says. “You’ll enjoy it. Most women I’ve worked with do.”
I make a face. I don’t get my kicks from shopping for clothes, and while I don’t mind it, it’s not something I’m looking forward to. “What about my size?”
“I texted it to her,” Kyle says.
I don’t even want to ask what size he guessed I am. “Is the awards ceremony usually fun?”
Kyle shrugs. “Mostly depends on your company. This time will be fun for sure.”
“I’ve heard about the wild after-parties,” I continue.
Kyle gives me an amused look. “I don’t plan on attending any after-party. We’ll have our own wild after-party here at home.”
He places his wine glass on the table and does the same with mine. Then he pulls me onto his lap, and I straddle him. I’m wearing a dress, and it rides up my thighs, exposing my lacy panties. Kyle doesn’t waste any time, and he slips his hand in and starts to stroke my pussy lovingly.
“You’re so wet,” he says.
“For you,” I tell him and sigh with contentment.
