Danielle Steel - Impossible

Tatianna kissed her goodnight shortly after that, and left with the dress she'd borrowed, as Sasha thought about what had happened between them that night. Tatianna had started in on her again about Liam, and this time she had called her on it. It was what Liam had wanted from her in July, and she couldn't do then. It had been the right idea at the wrong time. She owed him that, and had finally done it, but when he wanted it, it had just been too soon. Unfortunately for her and Liam, it was way too late now. But she was glad she had done it anyway. Tatianna needed to hear it. And she had needed to say it. As her last gift to him, and to herself, she had finally settled the score for him. It no longer mattered now, but it had been long overdue, and had done her good to say it, and tell Tatianna how much she loved him. It was her last gift to him.

Chapter 18

The snow stopped in the morning , the streets were swept, and the night was crystal clear and icy cold as Sasha dressed for Liam's opening. As she always did, she wore something dark and simple. A plain black cocktail dress this time, with no frills or ruffles. She wanted the emphasis on the paintings, not on her.

Marcie had told Liam to be there at five-thirty, to speak to an art critic. They wanted to take a photograph of him with his work. Guests who had received the invitation had been invited for six o'clock.

Sasha left Marcie to handle Liam and the art critic, and when she emerged from her office, punctual for the opening, the critic and photographer had just left. Liam was standing nervously in the gallery wearing a black suit and white shirt, a dark red tie, serious black lace-up shoes, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and Sasha smiled when she saw that he was wearing black socks. He looked impeccably groomed and dressed, and in spite of herself, her heart gave a little leap. Nothing that she felt for him showed on her face. She was the cool professional art dealer, waiting to steer him through his first major show.

“You look wonderful, Liam,” she said politely, as his eyes took in her figure in the plain black silk dress she'd worn.

“So do you.” He returned the compliment. A waiter offered him a glass of champagne, which he took, and then looked sheepishly at her. “Don't worry, I'll behave.”

“I had no doubt that you would.” She smiled at him demurely.

“No hayrides tonight, I hope,” he said, referring to the barbecue where he had gotten blind drunk and misbehaved so outrageously.

“No,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I thought maybe we'd do sleigh rides after the show.”

He shook his head and groaned at the vague memory of the Fourth of July. “Watch out for the horse.”

She smiled, said nothing, and toasted him. “To the success of your first Suvery show.”

“Thank you, Sasha. To my dealer!” He toasted her as the first guests began to arrive. It was well-organized chaos after that. Hundreds of people wandered through the gallery, to see his work, chatting, talking, laughing, meeting and greeting each other. Introductions, questions, price lists, critics, the curious and collectors mingling to admire his talent. Sasha didn't have a chance to speak to him again all night. She had Marcie standing by to introduce him to people, keep him happy, and make sure he behaved, just in case.

There were no problems, no misadventures, no surprises. The only surprise, and it wasn't to Sasha, was that they sold all but two pieces of his work. He couldn't believe it, he stood staring at Sasha when she told him the good news, and he nearly cried.

“Very impressive, Liam. That hardly ever happens, except with really, really big names. What this means is that they understand and appreciate your work. You should be very proud of yourself.” And then she added, “I am very proud of you.”

Without saying a word, he hugged her, and then looked embarrassed. He was overwhelmed.

“So, now not only are you a talented artist, but you're going to be a rich one sometime soon. Very soon.” She had already decided to raise his prices after the show. “I think you should have a show in Paris now. The market there isn't as lively, but once you have a hit in New York, it usually goes very well there too. We'll talk about it before you leave.”

He still couldn't believe it, and looked shellshocked on the way to La Goulue. Sasha sent him on ahead with Karen and Marcie, while she rounded up the others. Some of the people she'd invited to dinner were his friends, others were clients she wanted to introduce him to, and who had bought his work that night. She had a table for twenty reserved, with Liam at the head, and herself at the opposite end, at the foot. She had surrounded him with his friends. For Sasha, it was awkward being there with him. But she had to do her job now, and do it well, no matter how she felt about him. Several of the artists he'd asked her to invite were women, she had met most of them before, and then, at least, they had only been friends. She had no idea whom he was involved with now, and didn't want to know. The only people her age at the table were clients. The rest of the dinner guests were considerably younger than Liam. Some things didn't change. There was no reason for them to now. He was back in his own familiar world. He no longer needed to make adjustments for her, or even behave himself. But he was very circumspect that night, either because he wanted to be, or in deference to her. This was an important night, and a huge victory for him.

Sasha had an announcement to make at dinner. One of the clients seated at her end of the table had just decided to buy his two remaining paintings. On the opening night, they had sold out his show. Standing at her end of the table, sharing the news with everyone, she toasted Liam again. And this time, he just sat where he was, and looked at her.

He made a garbled toast to her and the client, and said he didn't know what to say, except thank you to everyone, especially Sasha, Karen, Marcie, and the clients who had bought his work. He looked truly undone, and Sasha was touched.

She smiled at him once or twice from her end of the table, but there was no deeper meaning to the looks she gave him. She was just happy for him that the show had been a success. That had been the purpose of their alliance right from the beginning. The rest had just been an added bonus, and never the motivation for her signing him. They had accomplished exactly what she wanted for him: success.

The dinner went on until after midnight, and as she always did, Sasha stayed until the last guest left. She paid the bill, thanked the restaurant, and walked out with Liam into the icy cold crystal-clear December night. It was so cold that when she breathed, it felt like she had needles in her lungs.

“I don't know how to thank you,” Liam said, looking ecstatic. The wines she'd ordered had been excellent, but it was obvious that he hadn't drunk too much. He had been nothing but exemplary all night in every way. He was on his best behavior, and in an odd way, seemed to have grown up.

“You don't have to thank me,” Sasha said simply, “this is what I'm supposed to do. Introduce emerging artists to the world.” That night Liam had definitely emerged. “Besides, I make half the money. I should be thanking you.”

“Thank you for believing in me, and giving me a chance. Wait till I tell the kids,” he said, smiling, and then looked down at Sasha again. In her flat winter boots, standing next to Liam, she looked exceptionally small. “Can I take you for a drink somewhere?” She started to say no, and then nodded. It was probably her last chance. Nothing was going to happen. They were past all that.

They decided to go to the bar at the Carlyle, and chatted in the cab about the show. Liam wanted to know every detail, and what everyone had said. Sasha told him all she knew, everything people had said to her. He lapped it up.