Ethan and Clint wore big justifiable smiles and paint-splashed overalls. Their progress in just one week was staggering.
“This doesn’t even look like the same room,” I said, staring at the formerly stained, cracked walls, which were smooth and white.
“The hanging rails are next,” Ethan said.
My spirit soared. The room was no longer shabby and run down but a space with potential.
“Has Florian been here?” I asked.
Ethan shook his head. “We haven’t seen or heard from him. My brother and my cousin, who are builders, supplied the paint. They’re also donating the timber for the picture rails.”
“How generous.”
“My brother wants to see me get ahead,” he replied.
They followed me into the office, and when I opened the door, my jaw dropped.
“Hell, you even painted this room. And it’s such a great color choice.” The yellow walls gave the room a sunny appeal.
“Jack had some left over from a house he’d been painting.”
“What a great guy.” I looked around and discovered the furniture had been restored. Shaking my head, I turned to Clint. “You did this?”
He nodded.
“We’re driven, Miranda,” Ethan said. “We want to make this space to work. Whether Florian’s here or not.”
“And the rent?” I asked.
“We could host a few events. I’m thinking of a dance party. Maybe a few performance nights too.”
“Oh?” I felt out of my depth.
He shrugged. “Why not? Rent parties are all the rage in the art scene.”
“That makes sense. I need to get with it,” I admitted, leaning against my desk. I loved my new office and started to imagine art splashed all over the walls. “I just can’t believe you’ve done this in just one week.”
“We had a few helpers.” Clint smiled. “My new boy and his pals turned up. We had fun. Didn’t we?”
Ethan nodded before turning to me. “So, Miranda, do you have a plan?”
“I’m thinking of an exhibition within the month.” I had a sudden light bulb moment. “But first, I want to host an auction.”
The idea was bold and perhaps even crazy, but hosting an auction of sought-after contemporary art was the best way to draw attention to our new establishment.
“Leave it to me for now. But arrange that rent party. I just hope it won’t attract the cops.”
Clint giggled. “That sounds kind of butch and yummy. I love a man in a uniform. Who doesn’t?”
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Me.” He laughed.
“Coffees?” Clint asked.
“Sure. Is there a takeout close?”
“No, but come with me,” he replied.
I followed along the formerly dingy hallway.