by Susan Hatler
“That’s great!”
“It is,” I said, worried about Jackson’s health. He and I had worked so closely on these two paintings and frames, I was starting to think of him as a friend.
“Um, can I talk to you more about all this tomorrow?” she asked.
“Of course!” I assured her. We hung up and I leaned against the railing, a new wave of panic closing in. Since Jackson was down I had nobody to make my next frame. No use worrying about it right now. I straightened, ready to go back inside. Before I could leave my little nook, I heard Antonio’s accented voice. “The painters are good here.”
I risked a peek out past the side of the building. All four of the judges stood nearby with their backs to the library (aka: me) and their faces toward the ocean.
Dino gestured with his hand. “Yes, but I was surprised by Megan’s painting. Not at all what I had been expecting.”
Chills rolled through me. I probably should’ve stepped inside so I wouldn’t hear more of their obviously-private conversation, but my feet were glued to the floorboards.
“Her painting style is highly unusual,” Cesare said.
I brought my hands to my mouth. I’d been right thinking that my painting had been too different. Chelsea’s subtle use of color and texture was the style they preferred.
Piero nodded. “Most unusual. Her painting had many small details, making it impossible to take them all in at first glance. I had to study the painting multiple times.”
My vision blurred. I couldn’t hear any more. I also couldn’t let them notice I was there so I pulled my shoes off and then dashed across the backend of the terrace as quietly as possible, went down the stairs and then came around the building, re-entering the library in a most nonchalant way. Hard to do with my pride being ripped to shreds.
Brian held what looked like a dozen petite shrimp on his plate, and spotted me coming toward him. My heart sank even further. He’d seemed so sure I would win this competition. But after the conversation I’d heard that was a very unlikely scenario.
Chapter Nine
I’d asked Janine to have lunch with me at Frankie’s Fiesta on our lunch breaks and I sat waiting for her in the lobby, staring at the potted plants and the colorfully painted walls, trying to keep my feet tucked under the bench. It seemed like every tourist in town was here. I hoped they wouldn’t crush my toes as they milled about, impatiently asking how soon they could get a table. Come on people, they weren’t keeping us out here for their health.
The din of voices in the lobby rose higher and I heard someone say something about their next vacation in the Caribbean. I eyed the woman who had spoken. A niggle of envy ate into me. I’d craved an adventure and a little travel for so long, and this contest was the only way to get me there anytime soon. I wanted it so badly that it was a real and living weight sitting right there on my shoulders. Oh, the excitement of flying to an exotic place like Italy. What wouldn’t I give for that chance?
Then I remembered what I’d have to give up for the chance: my relationship with Brian.
My mind went back to our date and those incredible kisses out on the beach and the tide spilling over us, making us both burst out in laughter. He made my heart and body melt. I could’ve stared at him forever when I spotted him framed in the lit and shadowed gazebo. I was so lost in that memory that I didn’t even notice Janine flying through the door until she’d crashed into a group of tourists and nearly knocked one flat.
I sprang up. “Are you okay?”
Janine’s face turned red. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”
I went to the podium. “Hi, I reserved a table for two earlier and my party is here. Do you know if one is available yet? I know you guys are really busy, but we’re in a hurry today since it’s our lunch hour. I’m Megan Wallace.”
The hostess checked her book and then crossed off my name. “I have one table that just opened up outside on the patio. If you want it, I’ll seat you now.”
I raised my brows at Janine.
She gave me a torn look. “It’s ridiculously hot out there right now. But it’s the table outside or we have a quick bite at the diner. And I was really looking forward to Mexican food.”
I put my hand on her arm. “Me, too. The patio would be great. Thank you.”
The hostess grabbed some menus and silverware and led us across the tiled floor and out the door that led to the private patio. The outdoor area was pretty, decorated with potted plants and colorful mosaic tiles as well as murals of bullfighters and cacti painted on the walls. The tables had round tops made of equally colorful tiles and the chairs had black wrought iron legs.
We sat at the table and Janine waved a hand in front of her face. “You’d think they’d put some fans out here. I think it’s even hotter back here than it was on the sidewalk.”
“Where is the ocean breeze when you need it?” I joked as I felt little beads of sweat take up residence on my forehead. I blotted them with the napkin that my silverware had come in before settling it onto my lap. “It’s all enclosed, so I’ll bet the air gets stagnant in here.”
A server showed up and we asked for water and tea. He went back into the building quickly and came out just as fast, setting our drinks down before dashing toward another table.
“Thanks again for taking a lunch break with me. I know Olivia has you super-busy lately.”
She fanned herself with the menu. “I don’t want to complain, but it’s actually been a little too crazy lately. Olivia’s determined to find someone who can crank out dozens of those avocado roses for a wedding brunch.”
I lifted a brow. “Dozens?”
She unwrapped her silverware and touched her napkin to her forehead. “She’s fallen wholly in love with those things but neither of us can make them well or fast enough for them to be practical. I caught her trying to sculpt a tree out of an apple yesterday. You have to admire that kind of creativity.”
“I do.” I sighed. “I wish there was room for creativity in the website I’m designing right now. It’s so boring and I keep telling my client that the site’s plain but he won’t listen. I’ve been trying to sneak little bits of cute and interesting things into it but he nixes them every time.”
Janine made a face. “That must be awful to have your creativity stifled like that. Especially given how truly creative you are. Why not just tell him you can’t build his site?”
I wrapped my hands around the ice-cold glass to cool them off. “I can’t afford to turn down the business,” I admitted. “Especially now that I got laid off from the dress shop.”
Janine’s mouth sagged open. “You got laid off?”
I leaned back in my chair and immediately regretted it. The sun had superheated the back of the chair and my back burned instantly. I jerked forward so hard the chair rocked underneath me and the legs wobbled so much I was positive the chair and I were both going to fall sideways onto the patio tiles. Luckily, the chair steadied. Close call.
“Yes, I got laid off. I feel bad for Carol because I know how sorry she felt. But we both knew the shop’s sales weren’t doing so great since they opened that new clothing store down the street.”
“I’m still really sorry.”
“Thanks.” I really didn’t want people to feel sorry for me but they were going to be feeling a lot sorrier for me if something didn’t give pretty soon.
The server came back to our table. “Are you ladies ready to order?”
I put my hand over my eyes to block the sun as I glanced up at him. “I’d love the shrimp and lemon salad with green salsa.”
“Me, too.” Janine watched the server leave then plucked an ice cube out of her glass and rested it against the pulse in her throat. Water droplets ran down her neck and she laughed. “I’m sorry if this is rude but it feels so good.”
“I can’t believe how hot it is.”
Janine sipped her water and took a long look around the patio. “Those potted flowers are gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them
before.”
She leaned over to give them a sniff. An ominous humming sound started.
“Oh!” I yelped as a small school of bees swarmed up from the flowers.
Janine yelped, too, and barely managed to keep her chair upright.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded. Her face turned red, either from the heat or embarrassment. “Yeah, they didn’t sting me. I must’ve disturbed them while they were having some pollen. Maybe we should move, though.”
I glanced around the patio. “I don’t think there’s a single table anywhere, but if we move the table a few inches over that way then we should be all right.”
She and I scooted the table over and then sat back down just as the server appeared. He set our plates on the table, refreshed our teas and moved on.
I poured extra salsa on top of my salad and dug my fork into a pile of creamy guacamole that topped one side of the salad. Yum. “Is Olivia going to let you take the lead on that birthday party at the country club you were so excited about?”
She swallowed before saying, “I’m excited about that, but event planning isn’t turning out to be as fulfilling as I’d hoped it would be.”
She leaned over the table and dropped her voice. “I love Olivia’s Occasions. I’m just really tired of being somebody’s assistant. I would really love to do something that makes me happy. Like you’re doing.”
“I’m working on it, anyway.” It turned out that following a dream and doing what made you happy sounded exciting until the rent came due. I decided not to impart that little nugget of wisdom. “I do love to paint, but at least you have a steady job. What would you do if you didn’t work with Olivia?”
She gestured with her hand and her fork flipped out of her grip and landed on the ground. She gave it a bemused stare and moaned. “I’m sweating so hard I can’t even hold my fork.” She waved to the server, who came over with a resigned look on his face.
He shook his head. “Not to worry. Everyone’s dropping his or her silverware today. I’ll get you a fresh set.”
I giggled. “At least you’re in good company.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what to do with my life. I was Wendy’s assistant in Sacramento. Watching her success made me want to get my Realtor’s license. But Wendy and the other Realtors here pretty much have the market locked up. I love Blue Moon Bay, so I’m not interested in moving back to Sacramento. I’ve had my fill of big cities.”
I stared at my plate. “I love Blue Moon Bay, too. I’ve never had the chance to travel, though, and I’d really like to. My aunt passed away last year and she knew I wanted to travel to Italy, so she made me promise I’d go. But then I had to drain my savings to have my wisdom teeth pulled. I could save up again, but it would probably take more than a year with my current work status. Winning this contest is the only choice I have.”
“You can do it.” Janine smiled, then dug her fork in her food again.
As we ate our meals, my mind wandered back to the website that needed to be finished when I get home. I was bored and frustrated with it. Partly because I’d rather be painting. I’d finished a painting for the competition, but it just wouldn’t do. It was way too fanciful and so not classic like Chelsea’s work, which it needed to be for the judges to like it. The problem with painting something similar to Chelsea’s work was that it bored me just like the website I was designing.
“Megan Wallace, is that you?”
I looked up as a shadow fell across our table. Shock hit me hard as I stared into the face of Brian’s ex-girlfriend. “Monica?”
“Yes!” She smiled, her face radiant. Monica was naturally beautiful with bright blue eyes, curly honey-brown hair, and a wide mouth. She wore a coral sundress that fit her coloring and figure as though it had been designed just for her.
I realized I was gawking, so I stood and gave her a warm hug. “It’s so nice to see you. This is my friend, Janine.”
Monica gave her a sweet smile. “Nice to meet you. I love your dress.”
“I was just about to say the same thing to you. I guess we have a mutual appreciation party,” Janine joked.
Monica giggled, then ran a hand across her forehead. “I can’t believe it’s so hot out here. I wasn’t sure if it was the salsa or the sun that had me drinking so much water.”
“It’s the sun,” I said, firmly. “Are you just here for the day?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “No, I moved back to town. I got tired of San Felipe pretty fast. Too fast paced for me. I should never have moved away because, well, Brian was the best guy I ever dated. I knew we’d have to break up if I went and that turned out to be a huge mistake.”
Janine stared at me and mouthed, “Your Brian?”
I gave her a little nod, hoping she wouldn’t say anything.
“I actually called him earlier,” Monica said.
Jealousy hit me hard. Monica and Brian had dated for nine months and had seemed like a really good couple. Then she moved to San Felipe and he didn’t want to do the long-distance thing. Not like forty-five minutes should be a big deal, in my opinion. I’d met Monica through Brian, and while she and I had developed an easy friendship, it wasn’t close enough for us to keep in touch. Seeing her in town was quite the shock. So was the fact that she had called Brian.
“You really called Brian?” I asked, my stomach tightening suddenly.
She nodded. “I’ve realized I’m still in love with him. A guy like Brian is impossible to get over. I should never have left. Remember what a great couple we were?”
“Yes, I remember.” How could I forget? The two of them had been a great couple. Monica had been the first woman I’d seen Brian actually relax around. I’d even seen the two of them walking hand in hand around town and along the beach.
Janine’s eyes widened. She gave me a frantic look, but I ignored it.
“He didn’t answer his cell, so I left him a voicemail. I’m just waiting to hear back.”
I forced a smile. “Well, that’s nice.”
Monica glanced toward the door leading inside the restaurant. A small group of women stood there, obviously impatient. “My friends are melting out here, so I have to get going. It was good to see you, Megan.”
“It was good to see you, too.”
She headed for the door and I sat back down, shoving away my unfinished salad.
Janine smacked my hand. “Why didn’t you tell her that you’re dating Brian?”
“Ouch! What’s the point if I’m going to Italy?” I asked, rubbing my hand.
Janine pleated her napkin and waved it like a fan, stirring up a small breeze. “I hate to be the one to point this out, but what if you don’t win?”
What if I didn’t? I already knew the judges hated my paintings and that I had to change my style a whole lot if I was going to win. But what if that wasn’t enough?
What would I do if I lost the contest?
What would I do if I lost both the contest and Brian?
That last thought slammed home. There was nothing I could do if Brian wanted to get back together with Monica. Well, nothing except pound my fists against the plaque with that legend of Blue Moon Bay. On the other hand, if I lost the contest then I had nothing to fall back on but a few website clients. Not enough. I had to improve my finances in case that contest didn’t pan out. I needed money and I needed stability.
That job I’d turned down with the Wexley Corporation. Surely they hadn’t found someone just yet. As much as I hated being tied into such an extensive contract that didn’t fulfill my creative side, I didn’t have the dress shop any more.
It was official. I had to call Mr. Wexley up and grovel.
My cottage was quiet and the sun beamed in through the windows, sending rainbow-hued sparks up from my collection of colored glass and wind chimes. I should’ve been enjoying my quiet time alone, as always. But, no. Instead, I rubbed my neck and stared around my living room then at the canvas I was working on, w
ondering if I’d be better off painting that living room onto my canvas instead of what I’d created on my easel.
At least I loved my living room.
I stared at the canvas. The painting itself wasn’t horrible. In fact, it was quite good, all sun-splashed corners, pretty houses with garden gates lining a wide cobblestone street, and the ocean spread in the background.
I tilted my head to the side. “It’s very much like something Chelsea would paint. Which is exactly what the judges seem to love but it doesn’t come from my heart. Nothing about this painting fills me with joy like my first two paintings did,” I said, aloud.
I’d basically taken a picture of a small fishing village in Italy that I’d found online and put our Blue Moon Bay behind it. “This is not going to fly. I’d rather paint from my heart and lose the competition than paint what the judges want and feel nothing for my own work.”
I set my paintbrush and palette down and stepped back from the painting. “On the other hand, I don’t want to be homeless . . .”
I picked up the brush and stuck it into a jar filled with turpentine. The water turned a faint pink. I looked back at the painting. “Oh, but it doesn’t say anything at all, except that I’m desperate to win. ‘Desperate’ being the key word.”
Of course I was desperate to win. If I didn’t, I’d probably end up living in my parents’ cramped RV, fighting their three very large and very senior dogs for sleeping space on an air mattress as my folks eagerly drove across the entire country, stopping at every souvenir stand along the way. No joke.
I took a breath and tried to find something inspiring in the painting. Nothing. I’d never felt tired when I painted, but working on that canvas made me feel exhausted and numb in a way I couldn’t seem to shake. It was the same way with the website I was building.
To top it all off I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Brian and the fact that Monica was back in town. Had he called her back? Were they talking about getting back together right now?
I had to do something. I had to find a way to stave off the horrible things that would happen if I didn’t win. “It never hurts to hedge a bet so quit stalling and call Wexley,” I told myself.