Earlier chapters

by Mike Schwarcz, text and art

On the sidewalk outside her gallery, Cece paused and pointed out all the empty buildings to Miguel, specifically the ones Aisha's group had acquired. Miguel failed to see how the scattered buildings and lots would all fit together, but he knew there had to be a plan somewhere, and, of course, he wanted to know all about it.

"You know my dad and granddad were land speculators here in Santa Fe for years," Cece said.

"The land business? I thought they were ranchers," said Miguel.

"My great grandfather started ranching here when it was still part of Mexico."

"So, deep roots in Santa Fe, huh?"

"When you grow up with wide horizons and high desert sunsets, they tend to pull you back. I just feel at home here." Cece said.

"Sounds like grandpa left you a nice legacy," Miguel offered.

"I guess. More than I like to admit. My grandfather cared for the land and turned it into a very profitable operation, but it took decades. When the highway came through and bisected his tract, he sold portions, some to the government, some privately. The family still has a few of the smaller tracts to this day."

"The point is, the one thing he stressed to me was patience. He used to say 'the profit is in the waiting.' But, of course, he also said you have to be able to afford the wait. I think that Aisha's client has both of those qualities," said Cece.

"Oh yeah, probably in spades," Miguel said.

"It is beautiful, I admit. Maybe I lived too long in the city, but I'm adapting to Santa Fe, and I'm liking it," Miguel said, honestly.

"Well, at least while I'm waiting, my brother lets me get on a horse when I feel the need. Which is pretty often, to be honest — getting out of these stupid mini-skirts and into a pair of Levis and boots can be a relief. Know what I mean?" Cece asked.

"No idea. I can't even imagine," Miguel laughed.

"Ummm, yeah, I see what you mean, the guy who's always wearing shorts and flip-flops," Cece laughed with Miguel.

"I meant the mini skirt part," Miguel laughed. Cece gave him a weird look.

Miguel took his normal walk home via the River Trail, and Cece drove out to her house in Quail Run. On the way, her cell rang.

"Hi, Luv, got your message." Aisha's accent rang through the speaker.

"Hi Aisha. Good news about Miguel, right?" Cece said.

"Yes, indeed. I had a feeling Sara was the problem. She didn't strike me as caring much about her husband's happiness," Aisha was frank.

"He overcame that obstacle and is excited now, he wants to get to work as soon as possible," Cece agreed.

"All right, Ron and I will finalize everything, we'll do the signing via DocuSign," Aisha said.

"I'll let Miguel know. He's chomping at the bit," Cece said before hanging up.

Miguel, his decision now made, was searching for a way to make amends with Sara and win her over — always a costly emotional and financial battle. He devised a plan to force her to face up to the situation rather than turning her back on him, as was her habit. He had already decided one thing: if he couldn't sway her to go along with his plans, well, then it had to be Sayonara.

Every Wednesday, Sara attended the broker open houses around town with her agent friend. Miguel planned to confront her at one of the homes, forcing her to hear him out. He came prepared to make peace offerings, and he fully expected her to exploit them to her advantage at every turn.

On Wednesday, Sara skipped breakfast and went out the door early to avoid face time with Miguel, catching a ride with a fellow agent. Five minutes after she left, Miguel called her office and explained to the receptionist that Sara had left her phone at home. He could deliver it, but he needed the address to her first stop, which the receptionist cheerfully provided. Miguel called an Uber and embarked on his sneak attack.

Miguel was surprised when he found he'd arrived before Sara.

"Has Sara Angelo been by this morning?" he asked an agent.

"We have only had six viewings so far, I haven't seen her," the agent replied.

"Mind if I wait for her?"

Five minutes later Sara was taken aback when she spotted Miguel where she least expected it. But she was trapped, nowhere to run.

"Hi, Sara, we need to talk." Miguel took her hand and led her to the rear yard for some privacy.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"It's the only way I can get your full attention, so just hear me out," Miguel said. Sara stood with her arms crossed, silently looking at the ground.

"I'm going to sign the deal with SpACE. They are paying me six figures for fifty paintings. We are also getting first-class tickets to New York City for the taping of a Good Morning America segment next month, to air the day before the Fourth of July," Miguel said.

Sara remained silent, looking down.

"I want you to come with me on this adventure, but if you decide it's too much for you, I'll understand." It was his turn to be silent now, forcing her hand.

"What if Aisha and SpACE aren't happy with your paintings?" Sara's first objection.

"I'll deal, I know how to adapt. And if I fail? Oh well, I tried," Miguel said firmly.

"I want a car for the winter," Sara said, in a surprising change of tack.

"Sure, I guess," Miguel quickly replied.

"I don't want to break a leg on the ice and snow this winter," she explained.

"What about New York? It's first class all the way, are you in?" he asked quickly.

"I'll let you know," she said before she walked away to join the other agents, cutting off any further overtures from Miguel.

While Miguel was riding home in the Uber, Ron called.

"Aisha sent me a copy of the contract. I'm going over it now, meet me for lunch, and I'll fill you in," he said.

"Where? — No, wait, come over to my place. I need a smoke. I just had a face-to-face with Sara. I'll get some take-out on the way home. How about tacos and beer? Sounds good?"

"Sure, so Sara's not home?" Ron asked cautiously.

"No, not till tonight."

"Okay, see ya," Ron said.

After lunch, they settled into the big sectional. Miguel pulled out the bong and some stash.

"I can't quite believe this is happening," Miguel said.

"Hang on, first, you gotta sign on the dotted line."

"What do they expect of me?" Miguel asked.

"You have to prove your worth to them, produce sellable paintings. If you do that, you'll probably be able to ignore the several pages of what you mustn't do. Then, there is a whole page of different ways you will earn income if you behave and let them handle everything," Ron finished.

"Give me the highlights, what am I on the hook for?"

"They want fifty paintings to promote and use as a basis for raising your prices on the marketplace as a starter. They also will require you to attend shows at SpACE galleries around the world."

"That doesn't sound too bad, flying first-class, I hope." Miguel paused, exhaling a hit slowly. "Can I leave Sara at home?"

"As if you would dare," retorted Ron, reaching for the bong.

"But, it's funny you should mention her, 'cause there's a no-nepotism clause in the contract. Sara can't play any role other than as arm candy on opening nights," Ron said.

"One less thing to worry about," said Miguel.

"Did you know that they are setting you up with a new temporary studio around the corner from Cece's current gallery, in an old car dealership, or something similar. It's huge, but temporary, until the new SpACE studio and gallery are built out. And it's rent-free," said Ron.

"Cece showed me. We took a look yesterday, and it's very cool; it has potential. What about materials? Who pays?" Miguel asked.

"They pay for all your materials for ninety days; beyond that, it's on you, once you get your first quarterly distribution check from them."

"Okay, another biggie — what's the split between me and the gallery on an in-house sale, like at a SpACE show, let's say?"

"60/40 to you, but Cece gets 5% and the house gets 10%. If an art advisor is involved, they also receive 5%. So, a 60/40 split of 85 or 80%. Amazingly similar to Hollywood accounting," Miguel joked as he reached for the bong.

"Do they mention payment for already completed works?"

"No mention of prior works. There's no mention of what you should paint at all, in fact," Ron said.

"Well, that's good news! You're not kidding me, are you?" Miguel tried to act shocked.

"Instead, you get a signing bonus," said Ron.

"How much would that be?"

"$120,000."

Miguel smiled. They looked at each other and laughed.

"The fifty paintings balance the ledgers; those paintings disappear," said Ron.

"A donation, huh?"

"You could call it that."

"Okay, whatever."

Later that night, Sara came home ready to make her version of peace. Having never been to New York, she had decided she couldn't pass that up. And she even congratulated Miguel on his new paycheck before suggesting he take her out to dinner the following evening.

At dinner, Miguel put all his effort into getting Sara excited for the New York trip, which was now only a few weeks away.

"We've never flown first class," Miguel said.

"It should be interesting. Where do you think we will be staying?"

"Not sure, maybe the Four Seasons? That's where Aisha stayed when she was in Santa Fe."

"That would be nice." Miguel could see Sara's mind working, processing the possibilities.

"Do you think we could go to a Broadway show? I've always wondered what that would be like."

"It's the Fourth of July weekend, I doubt any shows are scheduled. Everyone is telling me New York's a ghost town on the fourth."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"On the bright side, we should start looking for a car for you when we return from the trip."

"You know I loved my first car, The Thing they called it, I got it when I was in college," said Sara.

"Why on earth would you want a convertible with winter coming up in a few months?"

"I don't know, that car was so much fun. People will recognize me in it. It can be like my trademark."

"Don't get your hopes up about that. We can talk about it when we get back. I'm just glad you agreed to go along on this roller coaster ride. I need you with me."

"I just don't want you to screw it up. I have a good thing going here."

"If I screw up, divorce me. Easy enough, since we aren't even legally married," Miguel said calmly.

"Let's just have a good time. It can be like a vacation."

"Okay, deal. Vacation for you, job audition for me." Miguel sighed.

While Miguel was pitching Sara, Aisha and Cece were on the phone regarding Good Morning America.

"Good Morning America finally got back to us, it's not great news. A July 3rd air date, tape it in the studio on July 2nd. Then the network goes to reruns and taped programming until the eighth," Aisha related.

"New York City will be a ghost town for the Fourth. No press events, no parties, or art events, basically nothing going on," said Cece.

"Being a ghost town is only half the problem. The Good Morning America piece will likely be forgotten immediately after airing unless we find a way to keep it at the top of the network replay list for the whole five-day holiday weekend. I wouldn't mind if Miguel torched the Good Morning America set, if it could make that happen," said Aisha.

"I hear you," Cece agreed.

"The network took advantage of us to fill a dead spot this time; they owe us now. In the meantime, let's test your PR skills; see if you can figure out an angle on this shoot that ensures Miguel's face stays at the top of the network reruns over a five-day weekend," Aisha said.

"Short of breaking the law or doing something that assures you're never invited back to Good Morning America, I assume?" Cece asked.

"Precisely."

When Miguel arrived with Marcus to sign the contracts and get the keys to the temporary studio, Miguel overheard the conversation.

"Put her on speaker," Miguel said.

"Hi Aisha, big day today," Miguel said.

"Hi Miguel, yes, it is a big day, but we were talking about the Good Morning America piece. Do you have any fresh ideas for that?" Aisha asked.

"It's a little tough to figure out, the segment is going to be taped, so we can't pull any surprises like if it were live. I also have to believe they would nix anything with fire or flames in the interest of public safety and liability concerns," Miguel argued.

"Agreed. Staff here in New York haven't come up with anything fresh either. ABC won't let anything get by; they're very controlling, G-rated, pre-selected questions, and all that," said Aisha.

"Cece's idea is better than anything I came up with: a fake romance. But with whom? I have no idea, and it doesn't matter anyway 'cause I can't go for that one," said Miguel.

"Okay, let's table Good Morning America for a moment. Are you ready to sign your contracts?" Aisha asked.

Cece and Miguel looked at each other for a lingering second to see if the other was going to back out. In the end, they stepped off the cliff together.

"We are," they both said.

Miguel's success or failure was out of her hands, but landing Cece and him was a win over Hayden and that was what she was living for lately.

"Welcome to the family," Aisha said.

Questionnaire on the story

To be continued

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Mike Schwarcz was born in Stockholm and immigrated to the United States in 1956.

His mother was an artist, who exposed him to the world of the arts and artists growing up in Southern California. A regular part of his youth were visits to her artist friends' studios.

He sold his first painting in 1968 – for $10. By 1982 he had married and opened a poster and frame shop in Venice Beach, CA. It was during this period that he published his first posters under the Speedway Graphics banner.

In 2021 he immigrated again, this time to San Miguel de Allende where he now paints and writes.

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