"So when is the grand opening? I am sure our readers cannot wait for your new exhibit much longer.", the twenty-something eye-candy sitting across from me acquired, as his eyes never left mine.
The guy was too young for me, for sure, probably a decade separating us, and I knew that he was aware of it no matter how much younger I seemed. Being a public figure, it came as a given to have your personal details, such as your birth date, be a part of a public record.
But the man kept eyeing me in spite of it, his gaze sweeping across my body hungrily and it was obvious that he liked what he saw if the predatory glint in his eyes was anything to go by.
I smiled while trying to move around a bit, trying to get comfortable in the armchair I was sitting in, the hard padding of it hurting my bones. I thought about what this youngster would have to say about that and almost laughed out loud at the thought.
I was currently being interviewed for an online art magazine and, yet, the only thing that was going through my mind was how much I hated it.
Yes, I understood that it was a part of being a famous artist, but it still didn't change the fact that it was too much. The feeling of all eyes on me had always made me uncomfortable, and no matter how much time I've spent in the public eye over the years, the feeling had never quite gone away.
"The grand opening is in a week. And I know that it has been a long wait, a fact I am incredibly sorry for. But you can't rush it when it comes to art as you well know. And some personal problems just made it impossible for me to do it earlier than now.", I said, internally scoffing at the wording of 'personal problems'.
'Personal problems' of course being my ex-husband's affair and our consequent divorce, and the guy knew it too since it had been splashed all over the papers when it happened, but he thankfully chose to ignore it.
"What about the name? When it was revealed earlier this week, a lot of eyebrows were raised. It was completely unexpected and not to mention unusual, and everybody was left wondering what does it mean?"
I had known that that question was going to pop up, sooner or later, and yet, I still found myself unprepared to answer it.
After endless nagging from my publicist and family, I had finally given up and picked out the name; 'His Room'
Brady had given me a weird look when I first broke out the news, as did my publicist and Zoe, and I knew that they didn't know what to think of it since they didn't know about Jake.
But my parents, on the other hand, figured it out rather quickly, and the way my father's lips pressed together in a thin line, his jaw tightening ever so slightly, and the look that came across my mother's face as her eyes glazed a bit, had informed me that they did not agree with my choice at all.
After all, they were there when it had all happened; they were the ones that had held me in their arms as I cried myself to sleep for weeks, as I refused to eat for the first month after we ended it and even forbidden them to mention Jake's name to me.
But they kept their thoughts to themselves and congratulated me on a job well done and I felt thankful, yet again, for having them as my parents.
After all, even I still wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, but something, a more idealistic person would call it heart, told me that it was. And if that made me seem pathetic and like a pinning fool, which I most definitely was not, then so be it. I had stopped caring about other people's opinions a long time ago.
I was also pretty sure that Jake would never find out about it, where ever he was; sure that he didn't do something as sentimental as following a career of a teenage fling, and the sudden realization that I was that kind of person, made me slightly ill, as I resolutely stomped on that thought.
"It is actually sort of an inside joke with someone I knew once. It was a long time ago, and I am sure that they had forgotten all about it, but I didn't.", I eventually said, choosing my words wisely, aware that I couldn't afford to slip up since I wasn't the only one of the two of us that was well known.
After we were done with the interview, the guy, whose name I finally remembered was Cain, approached me with a look on his face that was very familiar, although I hadn't had the pleasure of seeing it aimed at me for quite some time now.
I remembered the first time it was directed towards me and the way I was too busy stressing about my looks and my first party that it had completely flown over my head. I had been a child back then and so inexperienced, but that was a long time ago, and now I knew.
I looked him over again and had to admit that he was beautiful. Cain was fresh out of college, tall, handsome and blond; definitely my type. So, when he stepped closer, getting into my personal space and whispered seductively into my ear,
"Has someone ever told you how hot artists are?"
I allowed it as a smirk broke out over my lips at Cain's words, before letting him drag me into the other room away from the cameras.
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