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chapter forty-four. the sixteen year old virgin
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From the day he brings his newborn girl home a father lives in fear that someday she'll get hurt. That someday she'll hate him. And worst of all, that someday she'll grow up.
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THE WALLS OF the Sotheby's building were kissed with paintings that had a paint signature of Victoria Humphrey. 𝒱.𝐻. All of the art she had produced throughout the years and recently over the summer were finally being shown in her coming out party into the art world. Since the mention of her taking over Sotheby's for the night, told to her by Miles Hawthorne, at first it seemed to be this dream that she hardly was ever to fathom. But as she stood in the centre of Sotheby's crowded around by her art and their titles, she had only come to realise that this was a true reality.
Miles watched her intensively, his forest eyes dancing over her face, taking in the beauty of her astonishment as she slowly turned on her feet. He had been preparing for the art show for a few days, telling her to wait to see it before it came to opening night. Victoria's lips were parted, hardly able to form words to express her gratitude as she was too overwhelmed by it all. Her eyes were glistening with tears formed by that overwhelming feeling that swarmed round in her stomach.
The silence was doubtful of being comforting, and Miles' thick dark brows yet raised in the hopes of that silence dismantling. Though, Victoria kept turning on the heels of her leathered boots, a faint chuckle passing through her lips as Miles only tried to figure out what thoughts were swirling around in her mind.
Her paintings were her story, each holding a different meaning as she grew up in Brooklyn. Her artwork had always been something she kept close to her chest, something she feared for others to see as they were about to see the way she viewed the world and how she viewed the little things. What if they hated it? What if they'd look at a painting and simply turn away and walk out the front door? Victoria's anxiety was beginning to spring up, and she prayed that Miles hadn't been able to sense it.
"Now," Miles broke the silence, his impatience getting the better of him as he only pondered what the dark brunette thought. "what do you think?" There were still people bringing in the remainders of Victoria's art pieces, all moving with such haste that Miles had demanded that morning.
"Miles. . ." Victoria's eyes fell open the warmed skinned man, a small smile danced upon her lips that donated a faint reassurance towards him. "It's. . .it's amazing!"
Miles sighed with deep relief. "I'm glad you like it." He tore his eyes away from her beauty, looking over the list of notes he knew he needed to inform her on. "Ok, so, Aria Huntington will be the auctioneer for the few of your believed special pieces." Victoria firmly nodded, latching onto the words of the Hawthorne. "It'll be me and Riven going around selling your other pieces. You can trust us, we admire them a lot, it'll be easy for us to talk about them."
