The Friendly Cottage

by Susan Hatler

  I cleared my throat. “Yes.”

  He raked a hand through his hair, which was not a good sign. “This doesn’t seem at all like something you’d paint. It’s nice but it lacks . . .”

  “Heart,” I finished. My shoulders slumped. “I know, but the judges prefer classic landscapes like Chelsea’s work. I’m giving them something they might pick for this last round.”

  “What makes you think the judges prefer a classic style?” he asked, then his gaze moved to a second easel in the corner of the room. He started for it before I could stop him. My heart stuttered and banged against my ribs as he lifted the cover. He promptly nodded. “Now this is a Megan Wallace painting. What made you paint this?”

  “Inspiration?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. My heart had made me paint it. It was all my dreams, right there on that canvas. Could Brian see that?

  “You should enter this one. It’s your whole heart, right there on that painting.”

  Panic hit. Did he know what I really dreamed of? What I really wanted? It was all right there in that painting. If anyone looked closely enough they’d see me.

  I shook my head. “It’s too different. Too unusual.”

  “Maybe that’s what the judges like about your work.”

  He wouldn’t think that if he’d been out on that terrace. I took a long breath, keeping those words inside. “I have to think of this contest like a job. I’m an applicant. I have to enter this painting, because this one fits what the judges prefer.”

  His fingers traced the canvas softly. “But that other painting doesn’t fit you.”

  “No, but it fits the theme and it’s what I need to win.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “What makes you think that?”

  “I heard them talking!” I exclaimed, and started pacing. “At the last competition, I went out on the terrace to take that call from Janine. I was back in that little corner so the judges didn’t see me when they walked outside, and they said I wasn’t what they had expected from a painter. That my work was too unusual.”

  Brian’s gaze went back to the canvas of my heart. “If they don’t want an authentic Megan Wallace painting, then that’s their loss and they don't deserve you.”

  I blew out a long breath. “I wish I could say the same thing, but I can’t. You have a successful business already. If I don’t win this contest then I’m going to end up either living in my parents’ RV or working at some office job that I hate.”

  He touched my arm. “I’ll support you no matter what. I want you to know that. I just wish you’d enter this painting. Let the world see the magic of life the way you see it.”

  My throat tightened. “I can’t talk about this anymore.”

  “Okay,” he said, and then hugged me. I snuggled my face into the hollow between his shoulder and neck while he stroked the back of my hair. “I need some dessert. Are you game?”

  My gaze flew to the clock. It was getting late and I still had a website to finish before morning if I was going to get paid on time. Still, the idea of spending more time with Brian was too tempting to pass up. Who needed sleep?

  “I’m game.” I stepped away to fetch my house keys and then came back and took his hand. As we headed for the door, I asked, “Did you want to see if the ice cream shop’s still open?”

  He gave me a giant smile in return. “No, I have something better in mind.”

  “What’s better than ice cream?” I asked.

  “Pancakes,” he replied. Then his smile grew bigger until a gust of laughter followed. Together, we laughed all the way to the diner.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next day, I dashed down the sidewalk toward Bay Side Coffee, wondering why all of the people I passed and all of the people coming out of the shops kept staring at me. As I reached the coffee shop and grabbed the door, I caught sight of my reflection in the glass and groaned. In my haste to meet Janine for her declared “emergency,” I’d forgotten to change out of my pajamas. I wasn’t wearing just any pajamas either. I had on the funky design-your-own bottoms that came with the Pajama of the Month club membership that Charlie had given me for Christmas.

  Too late now to change, especially since Janine had said there was an emergency and she needed to see me right away. That was the only reason I’d left the house this morning, because I was dead set on finishing that boring website and getting paid. The parallels between that website and the painting I’d done for the contest weighed heavily on my mind as I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  The coffee shop was crowded, as usual. The counter was packed with people waiting for their orders and more people clustered around a display case that held the shop’s scrumptious baked treats. Janine sat at our favorite table, a short and small thing wedged into the far back corner. Thankfully, I saw two tall cups in front of her.

  I eased my way past the line and took a seat. “I got here as quickly as I could.”

  Janine pushed a coffee toward me. “Thanks for coming. I know you’re really busy, but this is so important. Nice pajamas, by the way.”

  “Um, thanks.” I glanced down at them. Since they’d been a design your own thing—that I’d never imagined anyone would see—I’d gone a bit wild. Gray dolphins floated in teacups on the ocean and clothed seagulls danced on clouds under a full moon. Not likely to get picked up by a department store anytime soon, but I loved them. “What’s the emergency? I heard you say emergency and I utterly freaked out and sped the entire way down here. Obviously, I forgot to change out of my pajamas, too.”

  She set her coffee down. “I’m breaking up with Cody.”

  Whoa. I blinked and took another swig of coffee while I considered her words. “But why? You said he makes you feel more adventurous.”

  She folded her hands and then studied her fingernails. “But he’s not making an effort to enjoy what I like. He fell asleep in Macbeth, Megan. He was snoring so loud an entire row of people turned to stare at me.”

  “At least he went.” I didn’t want to make excuses for him, but I didn’t want her to make a rash decision.

  She picked up her coffee again and stared into the depths of it. “He’s going to Australia for that surfing opportunity. He’s been gone more than he’s around.”

  I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “He’s cute. You said so yourself.”

  “So are puppies.” She squeezed mine back. “And they need less attention than he does. I’ve never dated a guy who’s so into himself. What about what I want? I count, too. He can book flights to desolate mountains and hike them, but he can’t stay awake during a play? I stayed awake for him, not that I could’ve fallen asleep while paddle boarding in the ocean. I kept falling into that freezing water.”

  “Couples fight all the time. Opposites attract, right?”

  “It’s over. It’s not just that I’d prefer someone more refined, but I need someone who is willing to take what I want into consideration.”

  I wished I knew what to say to that one. Brian and I might not be able to work our relationship out either because he didn’t do long-distance relationships. What’s wrong with dating long-distance? Yeah, it’s inconvenient. But it’s not forever.

  Janine’s fingers made rapid taps against the table. “Isn’t that Chelsea Chambers?”

  I turned my head and grimaced. Chelsea had just walked in with Piero Rossi, one of the judges of the contest! She spotted me and shot a wicked grin. Then she headed for the table, with Piero in tow.

  I sank down in my chair, doing my best to shove my pajama-clad legs beneath the table. Not that it would help. I wore the matching top, after all.

  “Oh, Megan,” she cooed. “Aren’t you the rebel? I would never have considered leaving the house in pajamas, even in ones as interesting as those.”

  “They’re design-it-yourself pajamas,” I blurted, having no idea why I felt the need to reveal this information.

  “Those are most unusual,” Piero said, using the same tone he’d used that nigh
t by the terrace when he’d said the very same thing about my paintings.

  Doomed.

  I was totally doomed.

  I shuffled my feet, hoping I’d put on shoes. A quick peek showed me I had. That was a relief, especially since I’d had on a pair of ridiculously fluffy slippers shaped like whales, complete with light up eyes and authentic whale sounds that turned on with every step.

  “Are you here for the coffee?” I asked, changing the topic.

  “Yes, but we can’t stay.” Chelsea snapped her clutch purse closed. Naturally, she was perfectly put together. She wore a red frock, sandals with a wedge heel, and the perfect amount of makeup on her face. “I’m taking Piero wine tasting in Napa today. We plan on chatting about art during the hour’s drive. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

  I took a long breath. “Yes, very fun.”

  She ran her eyes over me again. “Have you been wine tasting lately? I mean now that you have so much time and all. I heard you were fired from the dress shop.”

  “Laid off,” I corrected, my face heating. How had Chelsea found out I’d been laid off from the dress shop? I gripped my paper cup of coffee so hard that the liquid spilled over the rim and down my fingers. “Ouch.” I grabbed a stack of napkins and hastily mopped the spill. “No, I haven’t had time since I’m busy with my website design business and all.”

  “You make websites for a living?” Piero asked.

  “Yes. I made the one for the Inn at Blue Moon Bay, too.”

  His eyes lit up. “I saw that one. Very unique.”

  “Um, thanks,” I said. Unique? I wasn’t sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult. At least he hadn’t called it unusual, though.

  “Well, see you at the competition tomorrow night. Come on, Piero. Let’s see if we can get into that line before it goes all the way out the door.”

  “Good-bye, Megan. I’ll see you at the festivities.”

  “Bye.” I watched them walk away.

  Janine leaned across the table to whisper. “Isn’t that one of the judges for the competition? Is Chelsea dating him? Isn’t that cheating?”

  “I don’t know.” It looked like they could be on a date. Or she could just be giving him a tour of the area. Either way, Chelsea wouldn’t look at it as cheating. She’d do anything to win.

  I was doomed. I had to get home and finish that website that was eating at my soul with its square corners and bland colors. I had to make sure it was exactly the way the client wanted it, so I could keep my business afloat.

  I also reassured Janine that she was doing the right thing by breaking up with a guy who wasn’t making her happy. She did deserve to have a guy who would make an effort for her just like she was doing with him. And I had to figure out what I’d do for work if I stayed in Blue Moon Bay, because I didn’t have a chance of winning if Chelsea had the judges in her pocket.

  The final night of the Best of Blue Moon Bay competition arrived and I couldn’t breathe. Really, I couldn’t breathe. I parked my car and got out, knowing this could be the biggest night of my life. As I struggled for air, I considered just how far I’d get if I ran away right now. Given the dismal balance in my bank account—not very far.

  My legs felt like spaghetti as I crossed the parking lot toward the front entrance of the library. I would’ve felt way better if Brian had been walking in with me right now like we’d originally planned. He’d called to say he couldn’t pick me up because he’d forgotten something and had to turn around. It was too late to wait for him so I’d go in alone.

  When I reached the double doors, a uniformed man swept them open and gave me a little bow. Wow! That was a classy addition, and it got me to smile. I walked in and my eyes widened at the festivities inside the library. Everywhere I looked there were people in formal eveningwear. The place glittered and shined. Uniformed waiters were circulating with silver trays that held delicate flutes, which only added to the marvelous ambience, as did the low lighting and the gentle swell of music being played by the five-piece string band.

  My nerves stretched tight. I had a sick, fluttering feeling in my gut. My limbs shook. I spotted the two paintings on the stage, covered neatly by white cloths and lit by two small spotlights, and couldn’t look away from them. Chelsea’s painting and mine. One of us would win that job at the art gallery in Italy. I wanted the winner to be me.

  The judges stood near the far windows, talking to the people who’d flocked over to them. My heart climbed up into my throat. My whole life was in their hands, and one of them might be dating Chelsea. If so, that surely gave her an edge.

  Cameras flashed across the dimness and my vision suddenly disappeared. I blinked trying to refresh my eyes and someone grabbed my arm. Olivia’s outline slowly came into view. She looked stunning in a silver halter dress, her boyfriend, Brody, standing next to her in a suit and tie.

  “Megan, are you okay?” she asked.

  “No,” I croaked, glad to have my vision back. “I think I’m having a nervous breakdown.”

  “I’ve got just the thing,” Brody said, lifting a champagne glass off a tray, and handing it to me. He smirked. “I call it Bubbly Courage.”

  “Thank you.” I sipped the bubbly liquid gratefully as both nerves and excitement rolled through me. I’d painted the classic painting for the judges and Brian had crafted a simple yet elegant frame for my canvas. I just hoped they liked it.

  Charlie and Luke swept into the room, a group of reporters trailing behind them. Chelsea sidled up next to them, looking less than happy with the attention they were receiving. Not even Chelsea, in her regal scarlet gown, could compete with Charlie Rockwell and Luke Montgomery.

  Charlie caught my eye and winked. She pushed past the photographers and came toward me, Luke right beside her. “You look wonderful,” she whispered into my ear.

  I glanced down at the printed silk gown I wore. It highlighted my coloring and fit me like it had been made for me. “Thanks for loaning me this dress. Are you sure the wardrobe department won’t freak out if they see photos online of me wearing your soap opera character’s gown?”

  She waved a hand. “Don’t worry. They would be grateful for the press.”

  Wendy and Max, resplendent in their eveningwear, came over and we stood there in a little group with my friends surrounding me. My limbs stopped shaking. My heartbeat slowed. My vision cleared. The people who cared about me were here to support me. My heart filled with joy that would be complete once Brian arrived.

  “Have you seen Brian?” I asked, turning to Wendy.

  She shook her head. “Didn’t he pick you up? He said he was going to your house when he left the inn.”

  I laid a hand on my rapidly beating heart. “He called and said he forgot something and had to go back for it, but that was awhile ago.”

  Where was he? My former boss, Carol Winters, who owned the dress shop hurried over. She gave me a hug. “I feel so bad about having to let you go, but I’m thrilled it gave you more time to get ready for this contest!”

  I hugged her back. “It’s okay, Carol. Thanks for coming tonight.”

  She excused herself to talk to a man across the way just as Charlie’s sister, Claire, came over. Her face lit with excitement. “You did it, Megan. This is so exciting. You have such an original flair with your artwork. I know you’re going to wipe the floor with Chelsea Chambers.”

  Charlie swatted Claire in the arm. “Claire!”

  “What? I’m just being honest.” She lifted a hand in an exuberant high five. I had no choice but to high five her back, even though I felt like she’d be disappointed when she saw the classic-style painting I’d brought tonight.

  My eyes moved back to the paintings and a feeling of dread overtook me. Why hadn’t I brought the painting of my heart? The one Brian had thought I should bring? I had sold out, which meant I’d lose no matter what tonight. But it was too late now. I’d made the wrong choice and I had to live with the outcome.

  My heart ached as I watched
the judges walk over to Susannah Grimes, the emcee. They moved toward the center of the room near the stage. An icy cold chill crept up my spine and I felt tears prick behind my eyes. I wished I’d been true to myself. Aunt Bea would be so disappointed in me if she knew.

  “Megan?” Brian’s voice came from behind me.

  I spun around and there he stood, a wrapped canvas under his arm. My eyes flared in surprise. “W-Where have you been?” I asked.

  His gaze was steady on mine. “I went back to your house and got your painting—the one I think you should enter. You still have time to change your mind if you want.”

  He’d gone back to get the other canvas? Tears blurred my vision and I wiped my eyes carefully so my make-up wouldn’t be ruined. “Thank you! Yes, that’s the one I want to enter.” My voice cracked. “How did you know I’d want it?”

  His smile was gentle. “Because I know your heart.”

  My heart? It stopped. Literally. There was a slow moment where not one beat sounded in the chamber of my ribs and then I exhaled. “You saved me,” I said.

  Wendy nudged me toward the stage. “Don’t just stand there and swoon over my brother. Get that painting up on stage before they decide you can’t enter it!”

  Brian and I dashed to the stage, the judges right in front of us.

  “I’m sorry,” I began, gesturing to the wrapped canvas Brian was holding. “I somehow brought the wrong painting and this is the one I’d like to enter in the competition. Please say it’s not too late.”

  Cesare looked at his watch. “You have two minutes.”

  They all moved away. Brian turned the easel around, took the classic style painting down, and then put the painting of my heart on instead. I got a peek at the frame around my painting and gasped. He’d carved it from a shimmering dark wood and in the corners were decorative inlays. I looked closer and saw a set of hands clasped together, so cleverly placed into the wood that they actually appeared to be holding one corner of the frame together.