That, it turns out, is exactly what I wanted seven years ago and was too afraid to ask for — to be known for what I make, not what I can guarantee.
Grant sends the occasional furious letter through lawyers.
I read them by the kiln while something fires.
“You’re going to learn whose money you’ve been spending,” I told him once, in a boardroom, with a guard’s hand near my elbow.
He learned.
What he never learned is that I’d have traded the whole empire for a quiet studio and a man who called me sweetheart and meant it.
He had both the empire and the wife.
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