Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
What if she told everyone that nonsense in order to make a sale?
His eyes narrowed as he faced the mirror again. He’d learned a long time ago to mix ultra-trendy clothing with some classic pieces. The people who seemed to naturally gravitate to his art expected him to dress trendy—to a point. He hoped he’d succeeded in pulling off an edgy look with a bit of flair without going overboard.
Kellus raised his gaze back to his face and took a step closer to get the full picture. The lighting was much better from this angle. He’d been thoroughly pampered this morning. The salon left nothing from the neck up untouched. They’d trimmed his beard, plucked and tweezed his eyebrows, and clipped his hair, which helped complete the look of a cutting-edge, starving artist type with the short sides and long pieces on top. And even better, he’d worked hard on adding just enough product to keep the bangs from continually falling into his face. He just had to remember to clench his fist tightly when he caught himself wanting to run his fingers through it.
Clearly, he was a nervous wreck.
Stepping even closer to the mirror, he checked his nose and then bared his teeth, just to be on the safe side. Satisfied he looked as good as he could, he went for his dresser to the new bottle of cologne and added the subtle scent before fingering through the jewelry he had left. There wasn’t much there. Good thing he’d thought to stop and borrow a bracelet and necklace from the jewelry designer he regularly traded with.
He tucked his wallet in his dress slacks, then palmed his phone. Kellus pushed the side button and worked the camera until the screen showed his face. He centered himself on the screen, lifting the phone until he got a good angle. He cocked his head slightly to the left, giving the grin he’d practiced for hours in the mirror, then snapped the shot. Selfies were something he’d never gotten overly confident in doing. Tonight was different though. He’d tried hard to build an excited momentum for the show by posting on social media more frequently leading up to the big opening. After a quick glance at the photo, he added it to his pages and took the minute to give a shout out to the designer for the borrowed jewelry.
He had to remember to take selfies all night long. Also, he planned to livestream on Facebook—thirty minutes before the scheduled event, he would open the livestream app and introduce everyone he could find and show his subscribers both the fancy hotel and the new EnGage Studios. He’d done that one other time and ended the session with almost a thousand people watching. Tonight, he hoped for two thousand.
“Dreamin’ big, Hardin,” he muttered to himself and tucked his phone in his back pocket. He grabbed his car keys, then went through the house, shutting off lights and double checking the locks. With the unexpected money from the sale of the sculpture, he’d splurged on a home security system that had been installed this afternoon. Nothing too intricate, just enough to alert the neighbors and himself if John broke in again.
Punching in the code, Kellus quickly shut the kitchen door and hurried to the delivery van. As he hefted himself up into the seat, he had a moment of wishing he’d thought to rent a car. But, honestly, why waste that money? He could self-park and no one would ever know what he’d driven. As he started the van, he glanced at the clock on the dashboard, he’d made it out of the house a little ahead of schedule, but he never knew what traffic would bring. Gripping the steering wheel, he took a deep breath, centering himself.
The nervousness was getting to him.
Kellus took another calming breath and went over all his solids. The facts were easy: he had his art talking points down and memorized. He knew the price point to every piece, and he’d practiced his selfie smile about a million times to get the best possible look when people asked to take their picture with him. He had a hard and fast rule of no alcohol while working. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, especially since Arik Layne planned to attend. And, on that thought, he leaned over and grabbed his breath mints from the cubby in the dashboard. Those he tucked inside his pants pocket.
He had this. Maybe with all the extensive prep work and a little luck, he’d have a good night tonight.
Maybe.
Please, God, let it happen.
~♥~
The last few weeks had taken their toll. Arik gave a solid yawn as he watched the hairstylist leave his suite. He glanced over at his extended right hand; the nail technician appeared close to finishing. Regretfully, his tailor had interrupted the small nap he’d managed to squeeze in between appointments this afternoon. Never had he had such a driving need to look his best, but tonight he did. He’d gotten up for the final fitting, making sure his new slim-fit tuxedo hugged him like a glove. Luckily, it had. Now, if luck continued on his side, the sexy artist would take notice and stop dodging him at every turn.