Impossible

“I'd love to, but…,” Xavier said mischievously, and Sasha knew what that meant. God forbid dinner with an artist and his mother should interfere with his love life. He was definitely not ready for the business. At his age, she had been married, working at the Met, and had two children. Xavier was a long way from there.

Sasha hesitated for a moment. She had hoped to have dinner with Xavier that night, and didn't know he had other plans. But that was typical of her son. She turned to Liam. “Why don't I take you out to dinner, Liam. I'm your dealer now, you don't need to invite me. We can get to know each other,” she said kindly. He saw a warmth in her he hadn't seen at first. There was a quiet shyness and stability he liked. Everything about Sasha seemed reliable and solid, and he liked her. At first, he had been terrified of her. But beneath the cool, professional exterior, he sensed that she was warm. Her reputation daunted him, but her persona didn't.

She wondered if he owned a suit. Most of her young artists didn't. And Liam looked no different. In fact he looked a lot worse than some, although he was good looking. He was very handsome, a very striking-looking man.

“I'd love it. I can sign the contract over dinner,” he said with a grin that had dazzled many.

“You should read it first,” she scolded him. “You have to make sure you're comfortable with it. Don't just sign it without at least reading it, or even showing it to an attorney.”

“I would sell myself into slavery for you, or give you my left nut if you wanted it,” he said bluntly, as Sasha blinked. But she was used to that kind of statement from her artists.

“Actually, that won't be necessary,” Sasha said primly. “As I recall, testicles are not in our contract. You can keep them both. I'm sure your wife will be relieved.” He smiled at her and didn't answer. And as she looked at him, she was reminded of a beautiful young boy. He was lovely to look at, and despite the boyish appearance and mannerisms, he was an extremely talented man. “Where would you like to have dinner?” She had been thinking of Harry's Bar with Xavier, but her son was a different breed entirely, he had the right clothes to wear, and knew how to behave. She doubted that Liam had either manners or better clothes than the ones he had on. He was, after all, a starving artist, although if she had anything to do with it, he wouldn't be for long. She thought he was going to be a sensation in New York, and eventually in Paris. Liam was a real find, that rare commodity of someone with gigantic talent who actually produced great work.

“I'd like to get dressed up and take you out to thank you,” he said humbly, and it touched her heart.

“How dressed up?” She looked him over with a motherly air. He brought out the mother in her. Everything about him made one feel he was a boy and not a man. All she wanted suddenly was to protect and help him. She was excited about working with him, and launching him on a major career. He was a major discovery for her. It was an important moment not only for him, but for Sasha as well.

“I have a suit and two good shirts. One of them is clean. I think I used the other one to wax my car.” He looked at her sheepishly and she laughed. There was something impish and irresistible about him. He reminded her of Xavier when he was about fourteen, and struggling to become a man. Xavier had become one. Liam hadn't yet.

“Then let's go to Harry's Bar,” she said simply. She loved having dinner there. It was her favorite restaurant in London.

“Holy shit. I can't believe this is happening to me. Can you?” He turned to Xavier with a grin, who smiled happily at his friend. This had turned out even better than he'd hoped. He was thrilled for Liam, and grateful to his mother for giving him a chance.

“Yes, I can,” Xavier said simply.

“Man, I owe you big time.” And with that, Liam slapped him a high five. They looked like two boys in a clubhouse to Sasha, and she just hoped he behaved at Harry's Bar that night. You couldn't always tell with artists, which was why she rarely took them there. But she decided to take a chance on Liam. There was something innocent and enchanting about him, and if he got out of line, or loud and boisterous, she would tell him to behave. Her artists were like children to her, sometimes even the old ones. She felt like their surrogate mother, which was a lot of work, but it was part of what she loved about her job. The artists were her little chicks, and she the mother hen. And although she wasn't that much older than he, Liam looked like he needed a mother, like Peter Pan.

“Let's have dinner at eight. I'll have my driver pick you up at seven-thirty, and you can pick me up at the hotel. I'll be downstairs,” she said as she and Xavier left.

“Don't forget to bring the contract,” he reminded her as they started down the stairs.