Page 25 of Surrender to Me
Chapter 15
Everything was exactly like I had imagined. Sculptures lit as if a cloud had cleared to illuminate my work: the mirror woman, the melted woman, the house-made couple, and in the center of it all, my first of the shattered glass sculptures. A figure standing, the slight downward tilt of the head, the relaxed and somber chin, one barely open hand reaching, as if for another, and the hand behind the back, clenched in a fist, as if holding that inward anger and pain inside of it. It gave me chills seeing Owen in the form of a sculpture, thinking of the night he let me touch him everywhere. As I glanced around, my would-be colleagues sipped wine, my future professors mingled, some strangers and art collectors, even a few people I knew were agents and gallery owners were sprawled throughout the mix, but I didn’t see Owen.
“I thought you’d never show up, sweetness,” Regina said. She squeezed me in a hug, nearly suffocating me. I held back the urge to hide. It was like being in middle school again, embarrassed by my overly affectionate mother.
“Hi Mom,” I mumbled.
She held an arm towards the man standing next to her. “This is Rupert. He’s a surgeon at the hospital your grandma goes to.”
I started to roll my eyes and Regina cut me off. “Stop it right there, Riley Glass. He already knows Grayson was a doctor too.”
“This is really something,” Rupert said. We shook hands. “I don’t know much about art, but it’s impressive. Regina’s been showing me how to paint. I can’t imagine doing works at this caliber.”
I let a half smile fall over my lips. At least he wasn’t an anti-art asshole. He was actually embracing my mother’s interests.
“Riley,” my mother grin widened, “I knew you were good, but seeing everything displayed like this? It’s incredible.”
I had to stop myself from tearing up. “Thank you,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lisa waving at me to come over to a couple. My mother shooed me away, but not before I gave her another quick hug.
“Thanks for coming,” I said. “Tell Rupert I said thanks too.” Regina winked. I walked over to Lisa.
“This is the artist herself,” Lisa said. Her voice was demanding, her hand stroking my shoulder as if I was a cat. “She just started the glass series. I’ve seen a few glimpses of the upcoming sculptures”—I hadn’t even started on the next one, but I wasn’t going to correct her, especially in front of people—“and you won’t believe how haunting they are.”
“That’s a lot coming from this one,” the man said, gesturing at Lisa. “She’s hard to impress.”
“When will the rest be done?” the woman asked.
“A few more weeks or less, I hope,” Lisa said. They kept talking and I know I should’ve been listening, but my eyes wandered, and I kept trying to find Owen. He still wasn’t there. My heart sank a little, even if I knew it was a matter of time before he got there. His presence alone would help expel my nerves. I just needed to know he was there. But then I saw her. Somehow I could recognize her even if I had only seen her once.
Poppy fucking Wellington.
She saw me staring and smiled, a cool, knowing smile, and squeezed the arm she was linked to. When she did, the older man patted the top of her hand and kissed her cheek. She nuzzled her head into the side of his neck. And that’s when I realized she was cuddling up to Wile Stevens. Michael was asking Stevens a question, and when Poppy answered for him, Stevens nodded, and Poppy took Michael’s arm, leading him away from the group. As they spoke, Poppy tossed the hair out of her face, and I knew she knew I was watching.
I told myself that there was no reason to be nervous. Just because she was flirting with, maybe even dating the head of the admissions committee, didn’t mean anything. People could date whoever they wanted, right? Except if you were Owen and me. And Michael talked to everyone, friend, foe, and nobodies alike, especially when it was a woman with a pretty face.
Owen stepped through the entrance. He immediately shook hands with a man, and they talked, stepping to the side together. Relief flooded through me. At least he was here.
“Riley?” Lisa asked. “Would that be satisfactory to you?”
I blinked, forcing myself back to reality. The three of them were looking at me, and I had no clue what they were talking about. Lisa must’ve read it on my face.
“She’s not one for words,” Lisa said. The couple chuckled politely, and Lisa scowled at me. “Let me discuss this with her at another time, when she’s not stunned by her first opening.”
Lisa stayed as the couple walked off to the small bar. “I’m giving your introduction in half an hour,” she said quietly. “Be more vocal then than you were just now.”
As I stood by myself, wondering what I was supposed to do, I found myself wishing I was still in the middle of that conversation with the couple, even if it was completely awkward. At least it would’ve been better to be mildly humiliated by Lisa, than to be alone, ruminating on the fact that my boyfriend’s ex-fiance was at my opening talking to my worst enemy.
I stood staring at the sculpture of the melting woman, empathizing with her, wishing I could trade places and be a wax figure instead. At least I’d know my fate. Someone stood next to me, and while I hoped it was Owen, I knew without looking that it wasn’t. The frame was smaller, a woman’s.
“It looks like sewer sludge,” the woman said. My stomach sank and I grimaced. “Oh, don’t tell me this is your work, is it? I mean she’s melted, you know? Like a forgotten candle.”
“Keen observation,” I said dryly.
The woman paused, and I could see from the corner of my eye that she was looking me up and down, checking me out. She tapped her chin.
“I never liked art anyway. It’s a waste of money,” she said.
“Some people like it,” I said. I turned towards her and saw that it was Poppy.