“$225,000?” I gasped.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Wow, when did you do that?”

“Way back in ’88, I think. I told you I wanted to forget the eighties,” he grinned at Spiridon.

“Come on,” Spiridon said enthusiastically, “you were young. You were having fun. In those days, that was all you and Vesile did—” Spiridon suddenly stopped himself, clamping his mouth shut.

Nikolos dropped his chin to his chest and his shoulders sunk.

“I’m sorry, son” Spiridon said to him softly, draping his arm over Nikolos’ shoulders.

I wasn’t entirely sure why Nikolos was so emotional. But I did know one thing from working with him in his studio all the time. He never talked about his ex-wife, Christos’ mom, and I never asked. I really knew hardly anything about her. And from what I could tell, Nikolos didn’t date anybody at all. He just painted and spent time with friends and family.

“Are you okay, Nikolos?” I asked, suddenly worried. He seemed really distraught.

Nikolos raised his head and blinked away tears. “It’s nothing. I’m okay.” He turned his head away, trying to hide the emotion on his face. “Don’t worry about it,” he said a moment later. “I’ll be fine,” he sniffed.

Wow, he must have loved Vesile like crazy if he still broke down twelve years after she’d left.

I felt so bad for him.

* * *

“All right everybody,” Brandon said over the microphone. He stood in front of the two paintings still covered in black silk, “There’s one more surprise. The final unveiling. I’m sure you’re all wondering about the two paintings that are still covered up.”

The crowd murmured agreement.

“I’ll let Christos fill you in himself.” Brandon handed the mic to Christos and stepped out of the spotlight.

Christos had been so busy for the last hour, I hadn’t said a single word to him.

“Some of you may know,” Christos said to the crowd, “that a very special woman came into my life nine months ago. If you haven’t met her, you’ve already seen her in my painting entitled LOVE. That’s me and her, Samantha Smith, together. Samantha, will you come up here?”

Gulp.

Christos shaded his eyes from the spotlight with his hand and searched the crowd for me.

Nervousness suddenly seized me. Did I have to stand in front of everyone? Of course I did. But maybe I wouldn’t have to say anything.

“Go, Sam,” Madison prodded at my elbow.

“Yeah,” Romeo said, pushing my back gently, “get up there.”

I didn’t have a choice. I made my way through the crowd and stepped into the spotlight. It was really effing bright. I squinted until my eyes adjusted. I hoped nobody was snapping photos. I probably looked terrible.

Christos took my hand and held it in his.

I’d never felt so on the spot in my entire life. Literally.

Christos smiled at me, gazing into my eyes. He said to the mic, “What none of you know is how much Samantha means to me,”

His blue eyes burned into my heart in that moment, in a good way. Oh my god, where was this going?

“Samantha has been an inspiration to me since the day we met,” Christos said. “If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know that I’d be here tonight.”

Gulp.

“Samantha saved my life, and for that, I am forever grateful. But more than that, she has been my guide. She has shown me how to embrace myself, to be me. Not someone else. Her courage blows me away every time I think about it. She moved all the way to San Diego from Washington D.C. with the dream of becoming an artist. And she never wavered from it. She stuck to her guns, no matter what challenges life put in her way. She has come so far in such a short time. She has a natural talent for art that I’ve never seen before. Sadly, for all her hard work, Samantha has never had a painting in a gallery show.”

Christos paused while the crowd went “Awww.”

He continued, “But she should. She’s an amazing artist already, and she’s just getting started. So, without further ado, I introduce you all to master artist Samantha Anna Smith.”

One of the two remaining black silks dropped to the floor.

I was going to cry all over myself.

It was my phoenix sunset landscape painting I’d done for the Contemporary Artists Show, the one Brandon rejected. I couldn’t stop myself. Tears ran down my face.

The whole room clapped. I was overwhelmed by their energy. I leaned into Christos and hugged his chest. I was laughing and crying at the same time. I couldn’t believe what was happening. My tears dripped all over his black T shirt. I buried my face in it.

Christos leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You have no idea how much I love you Samantha Anna Smith.”

No, I think I did. I sobbed and laughed.

After a minute, he muttered “Are you okay, agápi mou?”

“Yeah,” I sniffed, “I think I died and went to heaven.”

The crowd was starting to make a bunch of noise. Everyone was talking about my painting.

“Hold on,” Christos said into the mic. “We have one more surprise. When I saw this painting of Samantha’s that you’re looking at now, I was blown away by it. She’s only been painting in oils for six months, and I think it’s fucking incredible.”

Several people in the crowd chuckled.

I spontaneously pulled the microphone down to my mouth and said, “I had a lot of good advice from all of the Manos men. I couldn’t have done it without a million tips from them.”

The crowd chuckled.

“It was all her,” Spiridon shouted from the back.

More laughs from the crowd.

“Go, Sam!” Madison shouted.

I think it was Jake next to her who did one of those really loud whistles.

“SAAAMMMM!!!” Romeo squealed. “I want to be your baby daddy!”

I heard Kamiko laughing next to him.

I was going to pass out from happiness in about thirty seconds. I was totally, joyously overwhelmed. I’d never felt so accepted, or so important, in my entire life. It was incredible.

Christos spoke into the mic, “I’ve been so inspired by Samantha’s transformation from a mousy little girl to an amazing artist, I wanted to immortalize the person I know her to be in my final painting of the evening.” He motioned to the big painting behind him still covered in black silk. “She has a warrior spirit, and she is indomitable. I wanted to pay tribute to that.”

Christos nodded to Brandon and the final black silk fell away.

The crowd gasped and went silent.

It was so quiet, not even the dropping pins made a sound.

I was almost afraid to turn around and look at the painting.

But I did.

Oh, my god.

It was amazing.

It was me, a life size painting of me as a naked angel with wings of fire. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I stood in a graceful pose, my arms spread wide to the sides, the pose I’d held in our studio until my neck and shoulders had cramped into knots. The huge angel’s wings sprouting out behind me were made of fiery red and gold feathers. I floated in the air above the surface of the earth, which was a wide curve at the bottom of the painting, running from left to right. The purple blackness of space, surrounding the golden orange flames dancing around my legs, held thousands of shining stars.

Christos’ portrait of me as a fiery angel had a similar palette of colors to my phoenix sunset. They looked like a matched set. His and hers paintings honoring the energy of creation, done in red jewels and molten gold.

I was overwhelmed. My knees gave out.

But Christos caught me.

He always did.

I was the luckiest girl on the planet.

* * *

After Christos unveiled his painting of me as the fiery angel, everyone crowded around the two of us. They couldn’t get close enough to Christos. Everyone wanted a piece of him. It was kind of scary, actually. It was this weird mob mentality fame thing. I guess this was what being famous was like. It was weird being the center of attention, but with Christos beside me, I was fine.

People were asking both me and Christos tons of questions about the paintings and our relationship. We just answered them as they asked. Everyone was entranced with the idea that we were two painters in love, inspired by each other’s creative ideas. I guess maybe I took it for granted. Not in a thoughtless way. I just never really stopped to think about how special what we had really was.

One of the most common comments we heard was about the similarity of color palette and subject matter of our two paintings. When people asked, Christos told everybody casually, “I know genius when I see it. I just took Samantha’s idea and ran with it.” That was a total exaggeration, but every time he said it, even after the hundredth, I was stunned and flattered and blushed like crazy.

I did so much smiling, my cheeks started to hurt. Was it possible to get cheek muscle cramps? I wouldn’t mind if I did. It was worth it. I don’t think I’d ever been this completely happy in my entire life.

At some point during the evening, Christos whispered in my ear, “Do you realize we’ve been standing here talking to people for almost two hours?”

“I know. I totally have to pee,” I hissed.

“Keep holding it. It’s your job,” he winked.

Brandon came walking up to us. “You’re never going to believe this.” His eyes were on fire with excitement.

“I probably will,” Christos said casually.

“Everything has sold.”

“You mean all of my paintings?” Christos said uncertainly. “Or all of them?”

Christos had less than ten paintings in the show, so that’s probably what Brandon meant. Christos sold more paintings at his solo show last year. But between all the paintings from Spiridon and Nikolos, there were at least sixty or seventy on sale tonight. That was a lot of paintings to sell during a single show.