The painter calling George 'Uncle' was shocking to Stan, but not to Reeva. The latter knew how Rowan was a known lover of Scott Bradshaw, even to Scott's family. Perhaps, this old man thought the two were still together. Then again, with Rowan not showing up for years, George must have gotten the idea.
As for their closeness, George visited Scott a lot. Of course, he spoke to Rowan a lot as well. In fact, this old man might speak to Rowan longer than he would with Scott every time.
"All right." The old man smiled fuller. "Mr. Sullivan had spoken about how you nurtured your talent over the years again. I saw your new creations, but I hope you won't scare most of my employees. Scott must have maltreated you at some point, but he doesn't even walk this reception."
"…I see, then… I should tap into a different style, indeed." Rowan only chuckled. This old man even mentioned his broken relationship with Scott so casually. He wondered how Scott broke the news to George when he first visited the nephew. There was no docile housekeeper who greeted him, after all.
That very premise made Rowan look at George again. The business and payments were discussed between Reeva and Stan as they walked behind the two, so the painter could just look at the uncle in silence. However, the chairman didn't spare him a look and only kept his eyes up ahead.
The group reached the office of the chairman, and the bodyguard was the first one to enter. After a cue, George entered with Rowan and the rest. The liaison officer left after excusing himself. On the sitting lounge in the inner office, they sat around to discuss more about the plans for the redecoration.
However, Reeva didn't sit as prompt as everyone did. He stopped and stared at the huge portrait across the room. The glass cabinets made way for this huge painting that occupied almost the whole height of the wall, even three meters in width. It featured a woman in a white slip, walking along the edge of a shallow marsh. Three deer walked with her, and the back was divided by the forest and the mangroves.
His eyes flickered. This style and color scheme, as well as the brush strokes, felt familiar. Reeva then smiled at the men who noticed his trance. "Is this…?"
"Yes, that was one of Rowan's older paintings. As much as I remember, he just quit art school when he made that painting of my wife for me." George hummed as he stared at the painting again. "It was based on one of her dreams. She liked staring at it as well. I was very happy when Rowan completed it weeks before she passed away from her illness."
"A painting from the master before he even got famous? That's so amazing!" Stan gasped, but he only grew quiet as he stared at the painting.
It didn't have the terror radiating from Red Riding Hood's recent works, but it still invoked strong emotions from the viewer. The woman was exuding so much serenity that Stan felt like he would die and be with the clouds soon.
Rowan didn't stare at that painting, unlike the rest. He was concerned with tapping the pen against his hand. He already grabbed the memo pad to write down or sketch what he wanted to do. After all, he wanted to take this as a regular commission rather than one done for important people. George was close to him, but Rowan had to forget everyone related to that despicable Scott.
Since he shouldn't work on a haunting theme, he wondered what could be good for the exhausted people of the company. Most people in the reception were not the old ones, so it shouldn't inspire tranquility. They'd probably just skip looking at those four. A big touch of pop culture and current fads wouldn't fit a Fortune 500 company, either.
"…uh, Mr. Reeva, where are they putting the paintings?" Rowan realized that he only assumed that the paintings were going on the walls. As for which walls would be occupied, he had no idea. He was not even listening to the two talking earlier.
"Don't worry too much about it, Rowan." George laughed before picking up the coffee served to them by the secretary. "You can have the whole reception if you cannot fit them in a few frames. No one in the building will say anything bad about them anymore."
That was right. Those paintings might even repulse Scott away enough that he couldn't speak. As for the rest, what was there to give aside from reverence?
…
Rowan soon found himself standing in the reception again. He was staring at the huge cream wall behind the reception desk. The hanging ornaments of the place were already removed because of an accident. Right now, the place looked so bare. It was his job to make it less sad.
Utility personnel were going around to measure the places Rowan could use. Even if Rowan could do those himself, George didn't ask him to do something trivial. Moreover, it would be a sight for a single person to be going around with a metric tape and measuring walls for no apparent reason.
The painter just took the moment to read the energy in the room to see what the people would need. Also, he wanted to see what he could to do that massive wall. At the huge canvas in front of him, his hands began to twitch as if missing the feel of holding the brush.
Rowan didn't want to be identified with this company any more, but he would always be identified with his paintings. That was why he still wanted the batch to look pretty.
"I wonder how long I would need to get everything done…" Rowan started fiddling with the sample ring to get the color that would work with everything else, not just the cream wall.
"Have they given you a deadline yet?" A voice came from the side, and an arm wrapped on Rowan's shoulder. Since he didn't readily spook Rowan, Duke didn't receive a jerk or a scream as a response.
Rowan only looked at him and smiled, leaving the arm there to make him feel safer. He just continued to use the swatches as if looking for combinations. "No, but I have other things to attend to in the next six days. In between, I might start with the other paintings.
"After finishing them, I would have to do this big-ass wall over there. Do you think they'd let the people watch me work?"