She suddenly felt a little teary-eyed, and she blinked hard. “You’d do that for me?”
“Gen.” He put his fingers gently beneath her chin, raising her face toward his. “For you, I’d do that, and a whole hell of a lot more.”
“But …”
“Just look at the gallery space. It wouldn’t hurt to look.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
He was right. It wouldn’t hurt to look.
Gen had some more mingling to do before she could leave. She talked to a few collectors, some people from other galleries in Manhattan, a few B-list celebrities, and a number of artists, a couple she’d heard of and more she had not. She distributed her business card where appropriate, and she tried to gently correct misinterpretations of Gordon’s artwork when the opportunity presented itself.
Finally, as the crowd began to thin out, she approached Katya.
“I guess this is as good a time as any to see the gallery space,” she said.
“Great. Just let me grab the key.”
They got their jackets, and Gen told Ryan to sit tight and enjoy the last of the crab puffs, promising she’d be right back. Then Gen and Katya clicked down the sidewalk and around the corner on their spike heels in the cool evening air.
The space was no more than a five-minute walk away. Katya unlocked the door and let Gen inside, and then she flipped on the lights.
The gallery space wasn’t large—not really—but it was huge by Manhattan standards. Clean white walls and gleaming honey-colored wood floors immediately made Gen fantasize about the shows she could have here, the artists she would feature, the installations, the world of aesthetic pleasures she could create.
“It’s beautiful,” she told Katya as she walked the length of the main room. “But I’m sure it’s out of my price range.”
“Not necessarily.” Katya told her the monthly rent.
“Really? That’s all?” Gen thought she must have heard wrong.
“I was surprised, too, when Antonio told me. Rents in this part of town usually are much higher.” She shrugged. “I suppose he just wants to see you in here. Create an alliance and all that.”
It was the “all that” that worried Gen. Bellini was more than a little sleazy in his business practices. If she were his tenant, what unethical things would she be expected to do to keep him happy and keep the rent low?
Still, the place was lovely. She wandered into the back room and then into the small office off the main space.
“How soon would he need to know?”
Katya was inspecting the fingernails of her right hand. “You’d have to talk to Antonio about that. I don’t really know the details.”
Gen looked around a little more, and then they locked the place up and made their way back to Archibald / Bellini.
The gallery space was like a gift, beautifully wrapped and tempting. But she worried that there might be something nasty hiding inside, something she’d be better off without.
Chapter Thirty
A few minutes after Gen and Katya left Archibald / Bellini to look at the space around the corner, Ryan was chatting with an artist in front of a painting titled Creekside, Delaney Ranch. The artist, a guy who described his work as “found object” art but who, in Ryan’s estimation, really just made things out of trash, was talking about the inanity of figurative art, an argument that apparently meant art shouldn’t be of anything, or about anything. Ryan nodded his head a lot and made noises of affirmation, even though the guy’s philosophy sounded like a load of crap.
The guy was going into a speech about a particular artist’s “subversive brilliance” when Antonio Bellini came up and put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder.
“How are you enjoying the show, Mr. Delaney?” he asked.
“Call me Ryan.”
“Of course. Ryan.”
Bellini said some placating words to the artist and then led Ryan away.
After a little warm-up chitchat about New York, California, ranching, art, and the common ties of wealthy men, Bellini arrived at his point. “I’m sure Genevieve has already spoken to you about what a wise investment a Kendrick would be. With the attention he’s getting—especially with the acquisition by David Walker—the value of his work is only going to go up. You should consider it.”
Ryan was no stranger to having people try to sell him “investments.” He simply nodded and smiled. “She hasn’t spoken to me about it, actually. We like to keep business out of our personal relationship.” It sounded as though they’d had some sort of conversation to that effect, but in fact, it was just a matter of courtesy. Gen hadn’t tried to sell him a painting because she wasn’t a sleazy opportunist.
“Of course, of course,” Bellini said, smiling as though he’d expected no other answer. “And yet—it would be a shame for you to miss out on a significant opportunity for profit because of—” He waved a hand vaguely as he searched for a phrase. “—personal considerations.”
“Generally speaking, I’m not short of opportunities for profit,” Ryan said mildly.
Bellini chuckled. “I’m sure that’s true.”
He clapped a hand onto Ryan’s back as though they were old friends.
“Speaking of profit opportunities, did Genevieve tell you about the gallery space I have available?”
“She did. Katya’s showing it to her now.” Ryan was certain Bellini already knew that.
“Good, good.” Bellini nodded. “I’m sure it’s going to meet her needs. And the rent … You know, spaces in this area tend to be very expensive. Of course, not by my standards—or yours, I’m sure. But a woman like Genevieve—”
“It’s important to her to do this on her own, without any help from me,” Ryan said.
Bellini beamed. “Yes, I got that impression.”
Bellini had a point, Ryan was sure of it. Eventually, the man would get to it. Ryan wasn’t sure he had enough patience to wait that long.
“You know, I could offer Genevieve the space at a substantial discount,” Bellini said finally, after a good deal more posturing.
“Really.”
“Oh, yes. But it all depends on sales from the Kendrick show. If it does well, I’d have the … shall we say … the leeway to make things work out well for Genevieve.”
Here it came. “And how do sales seem to be going?” Ryan said. He was offering a slow pitch over the center of the plate, in the hope that Bellini would hit the damned thing and they could move this along.
“Very well, very well.” Bellini nodded. “But … so far, it’s not what you’d call a spectacular success.”
“And you need a spectacular success in order to offer Gen the gallery space.”