The Publicist's Plight (Book I in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter Forty: Letter of Hope

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February 18th, 2002

Los Angeles, CA

SEBASTIAN

I ran inside my front door with the widest smile on my face.

I'm out of breath, sweaty, and so excited I can't seem to keep my head straight. My driver almost fell on our front lawn from how fast I ran inside the house, but after a quick apology I think he'll forgive me.

"Gloria!" I scream, looking around our living room to see if she's anywhere in sight. The housekeepers are on ladders cleaning the windows, and jump when they hear my voice.

"Sorry," I laugh up at them. "Have you seen Gloria?"

"Check the kitchen," one of them says, laughing a bit at my frazzled state.

"Thanks!"

And then I'm off again, running through the halls until I reach the kitchen. Gloria is, as I was told, inside the kitchen seasoning chicken laid out on a cutting board. Loretta is by the stove, stirring something in a big pot.

When Gloria hears me enter the kitchen, backpack flopping all over the place, a smile stretches on her face.

"Hey, baby," she beams, "why are you all red and sweaty?"

"Guess what happened today?" I pant, ignoring her concern.

"Can you tell me after you put on your retainer?"

For a moment I'm confused on what she's talking about. That, or I'm so excited to tell her the news that nothing else even matters. But when it registers, I roll my eyes, dig in my backpack and pull out my retainer case. I snap on my sets and adjust them before speaking again.

"So guess what happened today?" I repeat with an apparent lisp from the metal contraption in my mouth.

She purses her lips, "Now, you know I don't like guessin'."

Shaking from impatience, I pull out the letter from my backpack. The wrinkled paper is stretched out to her, and she takes it with a quizzical expression. She probably thinks it's a letter of condemnation, which makes no sense; look who we're dealing with here: straight A student, never had a detention or anything pertaining to the behavior of a "bad student."

After a while of reading, she does that thing with her eyes when she finds out something exciting--they start to blink rapidly over and over again and get really wide.

Without saying actual words, she runs up to me and hugs me tight enough to cut off my breathing. Now we're jumping up and down in the kitchen, squealing and laughing together as we twirl in circles.

"Oh my God this is wonderful, Sebastian! I'm so proud of you!" she exclaims. Her voice has a bit of the southern twang it has when she's either very angry or very happy.

Good thing she's very happy at the moment.

"What's all the commotion about?" Loretta asks at the other end of the kitchen. She looks scared, which makes Gloria and I laugh.

Gloria holds up the paper. "Sebastian's artwork has been chosen to be featured in a museum!"

"A gallery," I correct shyly. "And a small one. But—"

Now Loretta is jumping up and down with Gloria in excitement now. I can barely even get a word out, but I don't mind much.

"What sixteen-year-old do you hear about gettin' their artwork in a gallery!? A gallery!"