Reckless In Love(28)

If a heart could have turned over, that's what hers did, just as it had  every time he surprised her with yet another of his sweet thoughts or  actions. His consideration was innate, bred into him with years of  caring for his parents even when they hadn't wanted it.         

     



 

Now that she knew exactly what selling more pieces could do for her  mother's way of life, Charlie had been toiling maniacally since  Sebastian had sold the rams. She couldn't work on the chariot  twenty-four seven without the risk of making both creative and technical  mistakes that would be difficult to correct. So, during what she called  her creative breaks, she'd started a couple of new projects, mostly  animals for the menagerie she now believed someone might actually want.  Sebastian had also arranged for the T-Rex to be brought over to the new  studio and she was working on finishing that too.

The truth was that by the time he'd asked her to come to L.A. with him,  she'd been feeling tired and a little burned out-a rare thing for her,  when she'd always worked at a steady but reasonable pace. A day watching  Sebastian do his thing would be pure pleasure.

So now here she was, occupying a special reserved seat in the front row  of a sold-out fifty-thousand-seat auditorium. They were all here for  Sebastian. People chattered and programs fluttered as the audience began  taking their seats for his grand entrance. She'd left him backstage  with a kiss-a really hot one that she could still feel tingling on her  lips. As an usher escorted her to her seat, her heart was pounding and  her palms were sweaty, as though she were the one about to stand up in  front of all these people. Whereas Sebastian had been as calm as if they  were having a quiet dinner on his terrace.

Charlie couldn't say what she'd imagined one of his presentations would  be like, but this was mind-boggling. The stage stood in the middle of  the arena. Cameras were trained on the center, with its single stand for  a glass and a carafe of water, while special lighting beamed down.  Sebastian told her the workshop would be filmed for later syndication to  TV stations, as well as DVDs and audio downloads.

He'd called it a workshop, but this was like a rock star's performance.  Since Sebastian had slowed down to just a handful of appearances a year,  the place was packed. Everyone clearly wanted a piece of him.

The lights dimmed, voices hushed, and that was when she realized she'd  gotten it wrong. This wasn't a rock concert, where fans shrieked and  screamed. It was the symphony, where a reverent silence fell and  everyone in the audience waited, breaths held, to be swept away by the  magic. Just as Sebastian had swept her away so many times since she'd  first met him.

A spotlight snapped on, illuminating Sebastian, who was halfway down an  aisle to the stage. The clapping started then, rising until it was  deafening. Charlie jumped to her feet too, beating her hands together.  She'd understood that he was a celebrity with beaucoup bucks, but she  hadn't understood this, the adulation, the way people reached out to  touch him as he passed.

Then he was in front of her, leaning in for a quick kiss and flashing  that killer smile, leaving her dazed, until she blinked and realized he  was now on stage. His dark suit and white shirt were beacons in all the  lights shining on him. His sable hair gleamed, and he was utterly  gorgeous.

Who wouldn't listen to a man like him?

He raised his hands and waved people back to their seats. "Welcome." His  voice boomed out of the microphone clipped to his lapel. There were  indistinguishable shouts in return.

"Today is all about you. About your life and what you want it to be. I  don't have guiding principles to give you, just a little common sense.  But here's the thing about common sense. Sometimes we're just too close  to see it. And sometimes we need help from outside ourselves to  understand it."

He moved around the stage, circling slowly so that he could address the  full audience. The lights were blinding, and Charlie wasn't sure how  much he could see. Until he paused in front of her and smiled. That was  when she knew he saw everything. Absolutely everything.

"So let me ask you. Do you believe in yourself? Do you believe you  deserve happiness and prosperity? Because that's where you have to  start."

Four big-screen TVs were mounted above the stadium seating. He was up  there in brilliant Technicolor, and she watched his larger-than-life  image as he moved around the stage. Most people would have been dwarfed  by the huge screens, but Sebastian looked stronger than ever. Charlie  couldn't help a fleeting wish that his parents had lived to see him on  stage, just once, to see that he'd made something amazing of himself.  And that he hadn't given up, even though they'd disappointed him time  and time again.

"Opportunity doesn't suddenly come your way once you start believing in  yourself," he continued. "It's that you finally recognize the  opportunities already there because you believe they deserve to be  there."         

     



 

He'd walked into her yard full of scraps and sculptures and offered her  the world. But he was right-he'd been there because she'd had the guts  to stomp up the parish steps of that Chinatown church and tell them they  needed her dragon. One opportunity had brought her another. And  another.

Best of all, it had brought Sebastian.

She read the same thoughts in the people around her, the way they were  all looking inward, acknowledging the things they'd done right,  considering the changes they needed to make.

"Some of you probably know about my childhood. About where I came from.  It wasn't pretty. Wasn't fun. Wasn't happy. So if I could do it, if I  could learn how to believe that I deserved happiness, then you can too."  He spoke to her. He spoke to everyone. Fifty thousand people were  completely silent, no whispering, no chattering. No one left for a soda  or a hotdog or to use the restroom. They couldn't bear to miss a thing,  drinking in his every word.

Wanting to believe.

Listening to Sebastian, watching him, feeling him, Charlie wanted to  believe too. In this moment, he made her feel as though she truly could  do anything. Better yet, he made her feel that she wanted it all too.  That she should ignore her hesitation to reach out and grab the  glittering brass and diamond rings, and go for it with all she had.  Maybe the thought of being a huge star in the art world still didn't sit  quite right with her, but she could learn to be comfortable with the  thought of being successful. She could do it. Sebastian helped her  believe.

"It's not about the money." He laughed, holding up a hand. "I know what  you're thinking. Yeah, right." He brushed his palms down his expensive  suit. "Seriously, though," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, "money is  great, and I hope all of you make a lot of it doing what you love, but  in the end it's not about the money. Not if you get rich but hate your  job while you're doing it. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"  He was greeted with shouts of agreement. "You deserve to enjoy what you  do. You deserve to have a job that's a vocation, that has meaning, that  gives you satisfaction, and makes you feel like you're giving something  back." He paused again with impeccable timing, letting the audience  ponder. "Let's talk about how to figure that out."

An hour and a half seemed like mere minutes as he offered up a clear-cut  pathway to opportunity and success. But Sebastian went a step  further-he made it personal too, by telling everyone more about his  parents, his struggles, about never feeling he was good enough. Then he  told them how he'd had people who believed in him, like his adopted mom  and dad, Susan and Bob, and his friends. He explained that they'd helped  him learn how to believe in himself.

"You don't have to do this all alone. But you can make changes." His  voice rang out. "You can do anything. Absolutely anything." He stepped  back, drank from his water glass, and for a long moment, he held the big  tumbler in front of him, staring, until he turned back to his audience,  his fans, his devotees. "We're almost done, but before I leave, I want  to tell you about a lovely lady I met a few weeks ago."

Charlie's heart did a somersault as his eyes found and held hers for a split second.

"Francine is the sweetest thing. Tiny." He held out his palm to  demonstrate her height against his chest. "She's friendly, upbeat,  always with a smile or a laugh even though she has severe arthritis and  uses a walker to get around. Most people would be in a wheelchair or  bedridden. All her finger joints have been replaced." He held up the  tumbler. "Imagine not being able to hold this glass in one hand. Imagine  that even two-handed, this glass would slip out of your fingers." He  let it slide until it almost fell, catching it at the last second.  "Imagine you couldn't jog down the stairs, that your ankle bones had  disintegrated and the only thing holding each foot together was a steel  bolt and some staples. Imagine your vertebrae had to be fused just so  you could hold your head up. Imagine the shocking pain. And yet-" He  held up the glass again, pausing. There was complete silence, unbroken  by even the whisper of fifty thousand breaths. "And yet, every single  day you get up and you walk a mile. No matter what." As Sebastian set  down the glass, he said, "Do you know how much farther a mile is for her  than for you and me?"