"Really? Then why didn't you apply to those? Boston's all the way across the country."
He considered giving her his stock bullshit answer about how the Boston program was the most innovative, had the most variety of classes, offered him an amazing scholarship. And all of those reasons were true. They just weren't the reason.
And Kelsey deserved the truth.
"I want to get away from my family," he said simply.
"You do? But you love your parents. And you've said yourself your grandmother's amazing."
"She is. And I do. But-oh, hell. I want to be a photographer. More than that, I want to be a successful one. I don't want to be a starving artist. I want to make a real living."
Her brow furrowed. "But you-"
"What?" He snapped the word, then kicked himself when she flinched. But didn't she get it? After all the talks they'd had? All the time they'd spent together? "You think it doesn't matter because I have a trust fund? That I should just live on that and fund my business and not care if it never really earns a penny because what does it matter, I can pay my rent and buy my groceries?"
She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression somehow both stern and sympathetic. "Actually, I was going to say that being a success doesn't depend on where you go to school. You'll be a success even if you teach yourself. You're really talented, Wyatt. Of course, you're going to be amazing."
Everything that had been tightening up in him loosened again, and he basked for a moment in her complete faith in him. Then he kicked himself even harder for assuming that she'd been thinking the worst.
Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry. I didn't mean-it's just that it's hard trying to do anything in the arts around my family. My grandmother would want to set me up with a gallery on Rodeo Drive." He paused. "Should we sit in the car?"
She shook her head. "If my dad sees me in your car, he'll have a fit. Out here, I can say you were asking me about working for the club. Member staff relations or some silliness like that."
"Well, sit on the hood if you want."
She laughed. "I'm fine, and you're changing the subject. Even if your grandmother did set you up with a gallery, it would only stay open if you're talented enough to keep the customers coming in. And you are."
"Except, I'd never know for sure. The circles my family runs in-they can afford to buy bullshit art, just for the social value of saying they own a Segel print."
"Maybe they really like what they buy."
"Maybe they do. But how do I know?" He shrugged, then thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts. "I want to earn it, Kelsey. I see my dad and all the attention he gets just from marrying in to the family. I know it bugs him. He's a CPA, and not even for the entertainment industry. But the paparazzi still hound him. And he feels like a fraud."
"How do you know?"
"Because he said so. Not to me, but I overheard him talking to my mom just the other day. About how nobody sees him for himself. And how my family all expect him to be larger than life. The way they are. He hates it. I mean, he loves my mom, but he hates that he's invisible. All the public sees is the name. Not him."
She nodded thoughtfully. "I get that."
"You're not invisible. I already told you."
"Not to you." Her smile filled him up. "But I understand where he's coming from. And you, too. You want to make a name in photography the same way I imagine dancing on the stage."
"You could do that, you know. Maybe not now," he added as she started to shake her head. "But after you graduate. Move out on your own."
"Maybe. I don't know."
He wanted to press the issue. To tell her that whatever weirdness her dad was holding onto about dancing and dating and anything else, she needed to just ignore it. He'd never even really met the man and he knew that Leonard Draper was sucking the life out of his daughter. He wanted to say all that-to tell her to not let anyone stop her from following her dream-but before he got the words out, she stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek.
"What was that for?" he asked, a little stunned, and very pleased.
"For Swan Lake."
He hesitated, because he knew that was her way of changing the subject. But in the end, he let it go. "You're welcome," he said. "And we'll both have to thank Joy."
"True." She laughed. "She's never going to let me forget this. She said you can pick me up at her house, and then after the show you can drop me back as late as you need to. She'll drive me home in the morning so that my dad can see her drop me off."