Dirty Gold ✓ [bxb]

Chapter 7 - Always Respect The Artist

I just want to acknowledge that this story now has over 1K reads and although it doesnt seem like much I'm happy because of how much the numbers have grown withing these short few days.

Anywaysssssssss. I just want to point out one more time that this book is rated R for a reason. If you can't handle it please refrain from reading the content. I'm only going to say this once thanks and enjoy xx

After our very steamy moment Axel and I didn’t talk much again. Mostly because he kept on taking calls and I busied myself with texting Pierce and answering all of his inappropriate questions. It turned it was at some fancy gallery in Chelsea but I didn’t let him know that. He had to remain in the dark or else I would be taunted continually.

“We’re here.” Axel announced as soon as the car stopped. “Please park around the back Timothy.” He added before getting out of the car. I got out on my own side immediately pushing my jacket closer because it was a bit chilly. Early evening already.

“Let’s go.” He placed his hand on the small of my back guiding me into gallery as I also tried to pretend the sudden action didn’t affect me. Inside was cool and white, instantly emitting a sophisticated artsy glow even though we were just in the corridor and the paintings weren’t in sight yet.

There were several men and women chatting together all dressed impeccably as only the London high society could. A lot of them approached Axel with airy greetings and talked about common things of interest for a while. I was pointedly ignored but it didn’t bother me at all; it’s not like I had anything to say to these people. At least he kept his hand on my back not making me feel like a complete outsider which was thoughtful enough for me.

To be honest I felt out of place and with good reason. It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t know anything about the weather in France or who was dominating the stock market. Ok maybe that was a little presumptuous but you catch my drift.

But when we did enter the main room I was in awe. The paintings I saw were good, outstanding to say the least. Most of them were a bit different, a lot bolder, but somehow you could sense the meaning in them. Even from afar. I was expecting something different, perhaps a bunch of happy-go ‘broken hearted/my mother’s dying’ mediocre paintings that nobody really understood but were glad to spend huge amounts of money on it because it proved something.

No this was different. And different was good.

“Who’s the artist?” I asked Axel after sometime when we were finally free of corporate wolves.

“A friend of mine. His boyfriend happens to be my best mate from childhood and so it was a must for me to attend.” He replied signalling a waiter with a tray full of champagne.

“Are you sure you're legal enough to drink?” he teased handing me a glass.

“Hardy har.” I replied dryly. It was my first glass of champagne but I wasn’t going to let it be known. It had a chalky, flinty taste which made me wonder what all the fuss was about but it was genuine Moet so I sucked up anyway.

I took another sip “May I go check out some other paintings?” it made me feel kind of stupid to ask for permission but Axel had invited me in the first place and it only seemed fair in case he just wanted me by his side all night.

 “Of course.” He dismissed as I eyed another gentleman approaching his for what be another long greeting.

I strolled around a little ignoring the hordes of men and women talking in loud voices gazing at the paintings and making my quiet analysis on them. In fact I saw some which would definitely make a great addition to the piece I was writing for my Fine Art professor. My phone was buzzing annoyingly in my pocket so I switched it off.