Out of Focus #SYTYCW15 Top10 Finalist! [COMPLETED]

31| It's Over

Jenelle stood in the heart of the gallery with a woman. Tidy, prim and professional in a rich teal suit, eye-glaring in the harsh light bouncing from fluorescents and sun streaming the through the windows.

Why was it so fucking bright at nine in the morning?

"Eva." Jenelle rushed to her side. The sound of her heels clacking on hardwood was like an ice-pick to the skull.

"Later," she waved, tugging Eva along behind her until she was face to face with Ms. Power-suit. "This is the surprise I told you about."

Mrs. Power-suit thrust out a hand, nails gleaming like lacquered claws waiting to sink into her flesh. "Letitia Reid of Letitia Reid Literary Agency," she said, her grip bone-cracking around Eva's limp fingers.

"Just hear her out." Jenelle took both of Eva's shoulders, squeezed them with equal measures of excitement and pleading.

"Your fabulous partner reached out to my agency last week with an incredible concept that I'm eager to take on-board. You've managed to establish an impressive body of work which we'd like to distil into a more focused, tangible collection."

"Collection."

"Yes, for a printed book of your more popular artwork. We're excited you thought of our Agency for the honour. Tell me Eva, where do you see Out of Focus five years from now?"

"I—"

"Book tours and signings," Letitia interrupted, sailing her hands through the air like a director setting the scene. "An entire wall display in Barnes & Noble. A selection of your stunning pieces travelling all across North America—to start—in showings with a celebrity, or two, for added excitement. Are you aware that you've developed a strong following in Paris and Rome?

"I—"

"What am I saying? Of course you do," Letitia giggled, railroading right over Eva like a lamb caught in the tracks. "We'll include Marshall in on the project so he can do a written segment about each featured image. An extension of your collaboration over the summer. We'd ideally like to go to print with this before the year-end, which would leave plenty of time to arrange for a signing/cocktail event right here to celebrate the upcoming release, complete with media and high-rolling art enthusiasts to drive up the hype."

Dazzled by spinning dollar signs and shooting stars, Jenelle bumped shoulders with Eva. "I think sometime in the early fall for the social could be good, no?"

Letitia pursed lips, eyes glimmering. "Perfect, in fact. Plenty of opportunity to drive sales into the holidays and leaving just enough time for Ms. Turner to put together a new collection for Spring. We could..."

They spoke over her, around her. Eva faded away, the world muted in her grief. But she heard snatches break through their conversation. Each word slamming into her like a fist.

Expansion plans. Local caterers to handle event. Signing tables. Tower of books.

Makeover.

Somewhere beyond the buzz of voices, a swelling sort of pressure grew in Eva's belly. Rising. Rising above the haze and fog of her dulled senses, like she was waking—slowly—from a stone cold sleep.

"No." Her voice had been soft, almost non-existent, but the finality of it, the primal edge had both Letitia and Jenelle stopping cold. They turned, almost in unison with mirror-like expressions that would have otherwise been comical to behold. But not now. Not when beneath her skin temper boiled like waking lava.

Eva's artistic eye captured the moment, branding it in her brain. She'd have called it Abject Horror.

Letitia drew in a breath, the air around them suddenly frosty. "I beg your pardon?"