Fire Down Below

by Andrea Simonne

  As the gallery crowd grows larger, I find a quiet corner to sit and regroup. It’s on the second floor, but I can still follow what’s happening below.

  I sip my glass of wine, trying to decide what my next step should be. I’ll go see Declan tonight, I decide. If he doesn’t want me in his life I’d rather know right away than find out later.

  As I’m thinking this depressing thought, I see the Seattle Times art critic come through the door below. She’s a tall woman with spiky red hair and looks to be about in her mid-fifties. I’ve never met her, but I recognize her from her photo. I stand up and take a deep breath. I know I need to go speak to her.

  And then suddenly I see Declan. He’s standing off to the side, talking to Anthony. He must have come in without my even noticing. My breath catches at the sight of him.

  For a moment I simply drink him in.

  I can’t believe how much I’ve missed him. He has on the same gray wool coat and blue scarf that he wore when we strolled around Dublin together. My heart aches at all those wonderful memories. I want to go to him and throw myself in his arms.

  But as I’m standing there watching, the oddest thing happens. He turns away from Anthony, walks towards the gallery door and leaves. It happens so fast it’s almost like I imagined it. I put my hand against the wall, ready to go after him before I realize I’ll never catch up. I don’t even know which direction he went.

  Did he see any of the paintings? Why would he leave? I get a sinking feeling. He must not want to hurt me on such an important night. That would be just like Declan. My stomach tightens. He wouldn’t want to tell me it’s over and ruin my show.

  I make my way downstairs, figuring I’ll grab my phone and call him. Enough is enough. Give me my pain now.

  When I get to the bottom, Anthony motions for me to come over. He’s talking to the art critic and I can’t just ignore them.

  “Kate Alexander—the artist,” he says introducing me. “Kate, this is Olivia Manning from the Seattle Times.”

  “Hello,” I say, shaking her hand.

  Anthony says he has a few things to attend to and he’ll let the two of us chat. She asks me a few questions, and I tell her about myself. I mention my Fine Arts degree from Pratt and that I had another show in New York years ago, but that I’ve been out of the art scene for a while. I’m trying to sound upbeat, but in truth I feel depressed and distracted.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  “I’m all right. It’s been kind of an emotional night for me.”

  She nods. “That’s understandable. Can I ask you something personal? The man in these paintings, clearly he’s someone important to you. Would you mind if I spoke with him too?”

  “We’re—well, I’m not sure what’s happening between us right now.”

  She seems to chew on this. “I’m sorry to hear that.” And then she does something surprising. She tells me how moved she is by my work. “I don’t usually tell any of the artists I meet what I plan to write or how I feel personally, but when Anthony sent me your jpegs, I have to tell you, I was caught up in them. You’ve done a beautiful job of portraying joy and intimacy. So much of the art I see these days is oblique or inaccessible, but these painting you’ve created are uplifting.”

  My mouth falls open. “Thank you. What an incredible compliment.”

  “You’re welcome.” She smiles. “This can be a cynical business, and sometimes I wonder what I’m doing here. Then once in a while an artist comes along and reminds me of what it feels like to be inspired.” She motions behind me. “And if I’m not mistaken, the object of your inspiration has just arrived.”

  “What?” I turn around and there he is again. Declan. He’s moving through the crowd towards me. Our eyes meet and I feel a rush.

  “Hello Kate,” he says in that honeyed voice.

  I breathe deeply. It feels so good to have him close to me that I forget everything. All the people, the show, the art critic. It’s just the two of us. The way it’s supposed to be. “Hi,” I say softly. And then I remember myself. “Declan, this is Olivia Manning from the Seattle Times.”

  “Good to meet you,” he says putting his hand out and I watch as they shake. My mind is racing as I’m trying to understand what’s happening here.

  Olivia gives me a knowing gaze and excuses herself, saying she wants to look around a little more.

  “I saw you earlier,” I say to him. “But you left before I had a chance to talk to you.” My voice sounds accusing though I don’t mean it too.

  “I spoke to your friend Anthony for a few minutes, but I couldn’t stay. It’s...I don’t understand what’s happening between us. Why haven’t you come to me?” he asks. “It’s been almost a month. I thought I made it clear when we were in Dublin. I thought you understood how I felt.”

  “I do understand. I’ve been...busy.”

  “Busy?” He’s incredulous. “That’s all you have to say after everything that’s happened between us—you’ve been busy?”

  I nod. “You haven’t seen the paintings have you?”

  “No, I only stayed for a few minutes. I almost didn’t come here at all tonight. I—” Declan stops talking and glances around uneasily. “It’s weird, but it feels like people are staring at me.”

  I noticed it too, that some people had figured out who Declan was when they saw us together.

  “Come on,” I reach down to take his hand, “let me show you something.”

  I lead him through the crowd of people to my favorite painting. It’s one of Declan taken during our time at The Clarence. It’s a portrait of him from right after our chess game.

  “It’s me,” he says with surprise. “You painted this recently?”

  “Let me show you the rest.”

  And so I take him around the gallery and show him each painting. He’s in some of them and in others he’s an implied presence. All the paintings are inspired in one way or another by our time together in Dublin. He stops at one of himself in bed wearing a sensual smile, while colorful city lights illuminate him.

  “These are all of me,” he says dumbfounded. “And would it be conceited to point out that they’re also fantastic?”

  “I guess you could say I finally got around to doing that portrait of you. I wanted you to know that because,” I lick my lips and then I say it, “I love you.”

  Declan turns to me then, his eyes steady on mine as he purposefully steps in closer. “Say that again.”

  I take a deep breath. “I love you.”

  He puts his arms around me and I find myself gazing at his mouth, the smile that drew me in from the start. “Again,” he breathes.

  Our eyes meet as I willingly fall into the abyss. “I love you.”

  “You know what this means, don’t you?” he murmurs.

  “No half-hearted existence. No half-lived kind of life.”

  His gaze grows heated and then his mouth is on mine, kissing me passionately, heedless to all the people around us. I slide my arms around his neck and give in to the moment with abandon. At some point we both sense that we’ve become the center of attention and pull away from each other. Declan’s arm is still wrapped around me, holding me close.

  “I’m kissing my future wife I’ll have you know,” Declan says to everyone’s stunned expression. And then there is a murmur of approval and I hear someone say my name. There’s a few people yelling, “Congratulations!” and “It’s about time!”

  And when I look around I realize I’m surrounded by family and friends and the timing of this couldn’t have been more perfect. I see Suzy and Lauren in the crowd and before I know it we’re all hugging one another. And then my mom and dad are there. My mom gives me a knowing smile as both her and my father are hugging and shaking Declan’s hand.

  “This is the one, Kate,” my dad says to me with a wink.

  The wine is flowing and Anthony manages to produce a bottle of champagne from somewhere. Olivia raises her glass to me and there are all sorts of people, some of
them I’ve never met, drinking and offering toasts to our happiness and I feel like I’m in a dream.

  At some point I manage to tell Declan that I quit my job.

  “You’ll be marrying a starving artist. I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

  He looks around the gallery. “I have a feeling you won’t be starving for long. And besides, you’re marrying an Irishman. You do realize we’ll have to have the wedding in Dublin? We’ll hear the outcry all the way over here if we don’t.”

  “I won’t mind that at all.”

  Declan takes my hand. “Tá grá agam duit, Kate.”

  “Is the food still delicious?” I joke.

  He pulls me in close and gives me a wolfish grin. “You’re delicious and you’re all mine.”

  “I’ve always been yours, even when I didn’t know it.” I put my hand up to his face and in a soft voice I say it too, “Tá grá agam duit—I love you.”

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  Writers need more than double tall lattes and chocolate to finish their books. (Though these things help!) I would never have gotten where I am without such fantastic support. I especially want to thank my first reader and editor Erika Preston for all her help and encouragement. You are an editing goddess! Thank you for all your input and ideas. They were invaluable. I also want to thank my husband John for always believing in me. And last, but not least, I want to thank my boys for being patient with their mom even though she was writing a romance novel and not a book about alien robots in outer space.

  About the Author

  Andrea Simonne grew up as an army brat and discovered she had a talent for creating personas at each new school. The most memorable was a surfer chick named “Ace” who never touched a surf board in her life, but had an impressive collection of puka shell necklaces. Eventually she turned her imagination towards writing. Andrea still enjoys creating personas, though these days they occupy her books. She currently makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two sons.

  For more information please visit her on the web at www.andreasimonne.com

  ______________

  Dear Reader ,

  Thank you for reading Fire Down Below! I hope you enjoyed it. I loved writing Kate’s story and I especially fell in love with Declan. Several readers have told me they wanted to marry Declan, which is always fun for an author to hear.

  Currently I am writing a new series that centers on a Seattle bakery. The series is called “Sweet Life” and the first book Year of Living Blonde should be available in January 2015. If you would like to hear more, please check out my website www.andreasimonne.com for a description. You can also sign up for my newsletter to learn about all upcoming releases. As an author I love getting feedback from my readers. If you would like to share your thoughts feel free to contact me at andrea@andreasimonne.com.

  Before you go, I have a favor to ask. If you enjoyed Fire Down Below, or even if you disliked it, would you please consider leaving a review? Reviews are helpful for both authors and readers. If you have time, here is the link to my author page at Amazon where you will find my books: www.amazon.com/author/andreasimonne

  Thank you again for reading Fire Down Below!

  Sincerely,

  Andrea Simonne