The Art of Redemption

09| Dallas

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DALLAS
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Slam!

The unexpected sound echoed through the room, causing me to startle in my seat.

"Fuck!" I muttered under my breath, my annoyance evident as I glanced towards the source of the disturbance.

The door to my office had swung open without warning, revealing the grinning face of my perpetually irreverent personal assistant, Phillipe Blanco. I shot him a glare, my irritation palpable.

"Seriously, Pipi? Do you have to barge in like you own the place?" I retorted, my annoyance tinged with a hint of playful exasperation. His playful shrug only served to fuel my irritation.

"I mean, I practically do own the place, don't I?" he quipped, his grin unwavering.

I rolled my eyes, begrudgingly acknowledging the truth in his statement. Pipi was more than just my personal assistant; he was a master of chaos, a tactician hidden behind his youthful façade, and a trusted confidant despite our age difference.

He settled into a chair with a nonchalant ease, dropping a file on the table alongside an invitation card. My slouched posture allowed me to take in Pipi's youthful exuberance, his childish look belying the brilliance of his mind and the sharpness of his tongue.

As our playful banter resumed, a smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. Phillipe Blanco might have been a whirlwind of unpredictable energy, but he was also the only one who could manage to keep me both entertained and on my toes in equal measure.

"I heard your girlfriend's back in town," Pipi chimed in with a cocky grin, leaning casually against the table.

I rolled my eyes at his comment. Why was everyone suddenly so interested in the fact that Itzel was back in town?

Pipi, being his usual mischievous self, clearly enjoyed poking fun at my personal life.

"Very funny," I retorted, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "Is there a reason you're so invested in my love life, Pipi?"

He chuckled, clearly unfazed by my question. "Oh, come on, Dallas. It's not every day your stone-cold heart melts for someone."

I shot him a mock glare. "Don't exaggerate, Pipi."

"Exaggeration is my middle name," he quipped, his grin widening.

"Right, and your first name is Trouble," I shot back, earning a playful glare from him.

"Fuck you Dallas."

"Why are you still single, by the way?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "With all your charms, you should have women falling at your feet."

Pipi didn't miss a beat, flashing me a middle finger with an impish grin. "Because I'm saving all my charms for the right one."

I chuckled, shaking my head at his response. "Save me the bullshit."

We moved on to discussing plans for the evening. 

"Wanna hit the bar?" I asked.

"I've got other plans," he said, a sly smile on his face.

I arched an eyebrow in curiosity. "Oh? Really?"

Pipi's cheeks turned an adorable shade of red, resembling a tomato more than a confident master tactician.

A fucking child.

"So how's the business doing? Any new leads?" I inquired, shifting our conversation from light-hearted banter to the serious matters of our art-related ventures.

Pipi's playful expression transformed into one of focused determination as he pulled up data on his tablet. "Our art division is showing promising growth, Dallas. We've managed to secure several lucrative deals with both established artists and emerging talents."

I leaned forward, eager to hear more about the progress. "Details, Pipi."

He nodded, his fingers deftly navigating through the digital reports. "Our collaborations with local galleries have been well-received, and our online platform is gaining traction among art enthusiasts."

I nodded in satisfaction. Our investment in the art sector was a testament to our commitment to fostering creativity and supporting artists. The business aspect of it was just another layer that allowed us to bring art to a wider audience.

"However," Pipi continued, "we've encountered some challenges in terms of logistics and transportation for larger artworks. It's affecting our delivery times and customer satisfaction."

I considered his words thoughtfully. "What's our plan to address this?"

Pipi tapped on a graph, highlighting the areas that needed improvement. "We're looking into partnering with specialized art logistics companies that can handle the transportation of delicate and oversized pieces. This should streamline our delivery process and enhance the overall customer experience."

I nodded, appreciating the strategic approach. "Good. And what about the upcoming exhibitions? Any updates?"

He nodded, his expression enthusiastic. "We have a potential collaboration with a renowned sculptor for an upcoming exhibition at the Clyde Art Center. It could attract a significant crowd and generate substantial interest in our art division."

As Pipi shared more insights, I found myself engaged in the conversation, absorbing the information and considering the potential opportunities that lay ahead.

The progress Demitri was making was good.

Pipi went on to discuss the risks inherent in the art market, touching on issues such as market volatility and changing trends. His attention to detail and analytical prowess were evident as he navigated through the complexities of the art business.

As our discussion came to a close, I leaned back in my chair, feeling a sense of pride in our endeavors. "You're doing great work, Pipi. I'm proud."

He smiled, a blend of determination and satisfaction in his eyes. "Thank you, Dallas. I should get a raise or something as a token of appreciation."

I chuckled. "You're really pushing it, aren't you?"

He shrugged playfully. "Gotta try, right? By the way, you've been invited to the 77th Clyde Anniversary Art Exhibition. Will you be attending?"

I considered the timing. "When is it?"

"In two days."

I sighed, contemplating my schedule. "Seems I'll be ditching it. I have a date with Itzel."

Pipi's eyebrows shot up, and he let out a low whistle. "Well, well, Dallas. Aren't you the romantic?"

I chuckled again. "Guess I have my moments."

Pipi got up from his seat, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "In that case, I'll attend the exhibition in your place and keep an eye out for potential clients."

I arched an eyebrow. "You're volunteering?"

He flashed me a cheeky grin and raised a finger in a mock salute. "Consider it done. And who knows, I might even make some great deals for our art division."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. "Alright, Pipi. Just try not to scare away too many people with your antics."

He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Me? Scare people away? Come on, Dallas, I'm all charm."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Right. Just make sure you don't flash anyone that infamous 'fuck you' finger of yours."

He laughed, his expression unapologetically mischievous. "No promises."

I couldn't help but chuckle and I watched my little cousin saunter off.

Family.

                                                                                             –♥–   

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