A Brighter Palette

by Brigham Vaughn

  “Well, you better,” Annie teased. “I think I mentioned that public exhibition isn’t my thing.”

  Siobhán sighed heavily. “If you insist. But I can’t promise I won’t drag you into Gabriel’s office and have my way with you at some point. The door will be locked, but that’s the best I can manage.”

  Annie shivered at the thought. “You’re a little bit evil, you know that?”

  Siobhán gave her a triumphant smile. “So the nuns used to tell me.”

  Annie chuckled. “I’ll be thinking about that all evening you know.”

  “Good.”

  Annie took a long look at Siobhán.

  She had on a long, black gauzy dress. It had spaghetti straps and slits up to mid-thigh on either side. It was somehow hip and elegant at once, and with red heels, a sculptural silver necklace, and minimal makeup except for a slash of red lipstick, she looked completely stunning. And completely out of Annie’s league.

  “You look incredible too. God, you could be bringing anyone tonight.”

  Siobhán looped her arm through Annie’s. “And I’m bringing you.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” Annie said faintly. How on earth she’d attracted a woman like Siobhán Murray was beyond her. But she was glad she had.

  “Because I love you, ya bleedin' eejit.” Siobhán frowned. “Damn it, I shouldn’t have worn red lipstick. I really want to kiss you, but I’ll make a mess of us both if I do.”

  Siobhán’s phone buzzed and she started. “And I’ve nearly forgotten about the Lyft car I have waiting. Are you ready, Annie?”

  “Let me grab my shoes.” Annie dashed to her room and grabbed the staggeringly tall heels off her bed where she’d left them earlier.

  She returned to the entryway where Siobhán was texting something on her phone. “I’ve let the driver know we’re on our way down.”

  Annie took a seat on the little bench and slipped her shoes on. “How do they look?” she said when she stood. She rarely wore them, but they looked great with the dress.

  Siobhán let out a low moan. “They look like you need to wear them with your legs draped over my shoulders,” she said with a gleam in her eye.

  “I thought it was just men who were obsessed with high heels,” Annie said with a laugh. She draped the scarf around her shoulders, grabbed her purse, and opened the apartment door.

  Siobhán followed. “I couldn’t care less what men think of them. I think they make those legs of yours look about a mile long. I’ll have to beat people off of you all night.”

  Annie chuckled. Unlikely, but she appreciated the compliment.

  They were silent as they negotiated the two floors of stairs in heels and dresses, and Annie was reminded why she rarely wore them. Her feet were going to kill her by the end of the night, but Siobhán’s reaction had been worth it.

  “You seem a little tense,” Siobhán said a short while later as they were in the Lyft car, speeding toward the Quinn Gallery.

  “I am,” Annie admitted. “I know the night’s important for you, and you said you were going to talk to Gabriel about shooting the painting for my blog and ...” She sighed. “It’s just a little nerve-racking. Normally, I go to gallery shows, enjoy the art, and go home. This is a dinner party, and I’ll have to spend all evening convincing people I’m less boring than I actually am.”

  Siobhán scoffed. “You worry too much. You can carry on a very intelligent conversation about art, you look stunning, and most of the people there will be half-drunk by the time they clear the salad plates. I’m thrilled that you’re the one on my arm tonight.”

  Annie reached out and squeezed her hand. “You always manage to make me feel better,” she admitted.

  “Good,” Siobhán said. “Now, I want you to relax and enjoy yourself tonight.”

  ***

  An hour later, Annie had to admit Siobhán had been right. The cocktail hour was going smoothly, and Annie had been enjoying talking with most of the people there. Siobhán had helped ease her into conversation with a few people she knew, and Annie found herself enthusiastically discussing her blog plans as she sipped champagne and nibbled at the artfully prepared canapes.

  “No, no, I think it’s great,” David—a sculptor Annie had been chatting with for a short while—said. “I can’t think of anything else that’s exactly like what you’re doing.”

  “Well, good,” Annie said with a laugh. “I hope you’ll tell everyone you know about it.”

  “Oh, definitely,” he said.

  She was aiming for a mix of out-of-town readers planning trips to Boston and locals looking to spend some time exploring their own city. She had a feeling the latter group would be the hardest to draw in, so she was hoping word-of-mouth would help.

  The clinking of silverware on a glass caught Annie’s attention. Gabriel stood nearby, and when the crowd quieted, he spoke. “Thank you all for coming this evening. I’m delighted you could all be here.”

  He had exchanged his usual fedora for a top hat tonight, along with a collared shirt—open at the neck—trousers, and a fancy waistcoat. The look seemed silly and over-the-top to her, but Gabriel had always had a flair for the dramatic.

  It was a shame he could be so pompous because he really was rather good-looking. His thick brown hair and artful stubble contrasted nicely against the pallor of his skin, and his eyes were dark and soulful. In college, Annie had found him quite attractive.

  “These parties are designed to be a fest for the eyes and a feast for the senses. So, please, take a seat, enjoy your meal, and then browse—and buy—the art you see here.”

  The crowd laughed and slowly dispersed. She half-listened as she surveyed the other guests taking their seats. She had to hand it to Gabriel; he was good at what he did. Siobhán raved about how well her paintings sold through his gallery, and Annie knew his name carried some serious weight in the local art community.

  “Do you want to find our seats?” Siobhán murmured.

  Annie turned to her with a smile. “Yes. Let’s.”

  As they approached the long table dotted with bright, modern flower arrangements in low vases that stretched through the gallery, Annie admired the length of white linen, the gleam of silverware, and the sparkle of glassware. It really was gorgeous.

  They peered at the escort cards—clever little easel-shaped pieces of cardboard with names written on them in fancy script—until they located their places. To her surprise, Annie realized she and Siobhán had been seated near the head of the table.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” Annie murmured to Gabriel after she sat.

  “Of course.” He beamed at her. “You’re one of my oldest friends, Siobhán is one of my most successful artists, and the two of you make such a darling couple. Really, you’ll have to toast me at your wedding and thank me for introducing you two.”

  Annie chuckled. “You hardly introduced us, Gabriel. Siobhán was the one who approached me.”

  “Still, my show set the stage,” he boasted.

  “Pretentious twat,” Siobhán mouthed from across the table, her lips hidden from Gabriel behind the curtain of her hair.

  Annie smothered a laugh at the reminder of Siobhán’s opening line and reached for her wine glass. “Well, we certainly owe you for that.” Since their relationship had begun with Siobhán poking fun at Gabriel, maybe they did owe him a big thank you. Probably best if they didn’t tell him the specifics though.

  Siobhán grinned at Annie from across the table and pushed her hair behind her shoulder. “Speaking of favors, I have one for you, Gabriel.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “Anything for you. What is it? Are you hoping for an extension on your next show because you’ve been too busy with this lovely creature to paint?”

  Siobhán laughed. “Not at all. My paintings are coming along nicely. I’ll have everything ready in time. No, this is personal.”

  “Sure, sure. What is it?”

  “Well, Annie and I are collaborating on a project,”
Siobhán said.

  Gabriel looked puzzled as he scrutinized her. “I didn’t know you were a painter, Annie.”

  She laughed. “I’m not. Siobhán is the only one doing the painting.”

  Gabriel snapped his fingers. “Oh, does this have something to do with the blog I heard you talking about with someone earlier?”

  “Yes,” Annie said, relieved that she had a starting point. “I’m starting a blog about Boston travel and sightseeing. Siobhán is painting the Boston skyline for me to use as a banner. We wanted to ask you about using your equipment to photograph the piece so we can have a high-resolution copy for the page.”

  “I love that! Of course, you can use it.” Gabriel leaned forward. “My only question is if there’s any way I’ll be able to get my hands on the painting.”

  Siobhán laughed. “That was my next question. My thought was that we’d feature the painting here in the gallery for a while. Not sell it—at least for six months or so—and draw people into your gallery to see it. Here at the gallery, you can direct people to Annie’s blog. And then make a huge deal out of the sale of the painting once we do sell it.”

  “A”—Gabriel motioned with his hand as if searching for the word—“cross promotion of sorts.”

  “Exactly!” Annie grinned at him. “Is that something you’d be interested in? The blog will be small at first, but I’m confident I’ll be able to get readership up. I can feature the Quinn Gallery in a post—with a disclaimer of course, so everything’s above board—and draw more people in that way. It might take a little while, but I think it’ll be beneficial for both of us.”

  Gabriel waved off her concerns. “Of course, of course. I remember your work in college. You certainly have the writing chops for it. The official city tourism sites never quite hit the mark. It’s great that there’s a listing of what’s available, but what people could really use is in-depth reviews and a mobile guide. It’s brilliant, really.”

  “Thank you, Gabriel,” Annie said, feeling grateful. She laid a hand on his arm. “You have no idea how much I appreciate your support. With your gallery on board, I should be able to attract some other notable advertising.”

  Gabriel seemed to puff up at her praise. “Well, I like to lend my name where it can do some good.”

  Annie was tempted to roll her eyes at how pompous he was being, but she refrained. She was too damn grateful. She shot a glance at Siobhán, who she knew must be feeling the same way. But Siobhán’s lips were tight as she stared at Annie’s hand on Gabriel’s arm.

  Annie stifled a sigh and fought the instinct to pull away. She didn’t want to act like she’d done anything wrong. Did Siobhán really think Annie had been flirting with Gabriel? She’d just been excited about the possible collaboration. It was ridiculous that Siobhán got so jealous sometimes. She’d been so much better lately, too.

  Annie turned back to Gabriel with a smile. “Well, I appreciate your help. I think this will be a fantastic collaboration for all of us.” She let go of him and sat back.

  “Oh, definitely.” He glanced over at Siobhán and lifted a glass to her and winked. “To collaboration with two gorgeous women! Something I’d like to do a lot more of.”

  Several people around them chuckled. Siobhán clinked her glass on his, her expression suddenly wooden. Her gaze seemed to pass right over Annie as they toasted. Shit, Annie thought, wondering how the wonderful evening had taken such a quick turn. This isn’t going to end well.

  “It wouldn’t be the first time Annie and I collaborated on something, huh?” This time Gabriel winked and nudged her elbow.

  Annie laughed uncomfortably. “I guess you could say that. But it was a million years ago, Gabriel, let’s not bore everyone.”

  “I don’t know,” Siobhán said archly. “I’m not bored.”

  Don’t do this, Siobhán, Annie pleaded with her eyes as she stared at her girlfriend. Please, don’t do this now.

  “Well, I’ve known Annie since college, you know,” Gabriel boasted.

  Annie cringed.

  “I dated her roommate ... what was her name, Annie?”

  “Sylvia,” Annie said quietly.

  “Yeah, yeah, Sylvia. She was a hot little piece. She and Annie both were. And I should know.” Gabriel winked. “The three of us had some crazy times together.”

  He had a fond look on his face as he gazed off into space.

  “Just the one time.” Annie cleared her throat. “And, seriously, no one wants to hear about that.”

  Gabriel scoffed. “Come on, Annie. You used to be fun!”

  “Yeah, well, I also used to be twenty-one, but both were a long time ago. My crazy days ended when I stopped doing bar crawls and tequila shots,” she said drily.

  He laughed. “Hey, I’m sure we can scrounge up some tequila tonight! You sure you’re not just a little bit bi, Siobhán? Annie sure convinced Sylvia to play on both teams. Damn, that was fun.”

  Annie gritted her teeth together and glanced over to see a stony-faced Siobhán staring at Gabriel as if she could bore holes through his head with her glare.

  Fuck, Annie thought. How do I fix this?

  “I promise you, I’m not the faintest bit interested in that, Gabriel,” Siobhán said. She stood, nearly toppling over her chair. “In fact, I’m not feeling very well. You’ll have to excuse me.”

  She grabbed her phone and strode toward the door, the chiffon of her dress billowing dramatically around her legs. She pushed open the front door and disappeared onto the street.

  The sudden murmuring of the people around them made Annie realize that everyone had been watching their little exchange.

  Humiliated, tears rose to her eyes, and she stood on wobbly knees. “I’m going to go check on Siobhán, Gabriel. You’ll have to excuse us.”

  “Shit, did I say something wrong?” He looked suddenly remorseful. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s a little late for apologies,” Annie said tersely. “The damage is already done.”

  She scooped up her shawl from the back of her chair, grabbed her purse, and then spotted Siobhán’s purse on the table beside her abandoned plate. Well, at least, without that Siobhán wouldn’t make it far.

  ***

  When Annie left the gallery, she found Siobhán pacing on the sidewalk in front of the building.

  “What exactly did Gabriel mean by that?” Siobhán snapped. She took her purse from Annie’s outstretched hand.

  Annie swallowed. “Exactly what it sounded like.”

  “You’re going to have to be a little clearer than that.”

  She sighed heavily. “It was just harmless college experimentation. Gabriel was dating my roommate Sylvia for a while. One night, the three of us had a little too much to drink, and he coaxed Sylvia into kissing me. One thing led to another and ...” Annie laughed uncomfortably. “We hooked up. It was kinda fun at the time, but things were a bit awkward for a while after. I don’t even know why he brought it up tonight.”

  “Well, he did. And now I’m left wondering when you were going to spring it on me that you aren’t satisfied with our relationship!”

  Staggered by Siobhán’s statement, all Annie could do was blink at her for a moment. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Siobhán! When have I ever acted like I was unsatisfied?”

  “I don’t know, maybe around the same time you weren’t telling me you’d slept with Gabriel!”

  “I didn’t think it mattered!”

  “I don’t like knowing Gabriel Quinn has probably been sniggering behind my back about the fact that he fucked my girlfriend before I did.”

  “You’re making something out of nothing,” Annie said with a sigh. “Really Siobhán. I don’t think he’s been snickering about anything. It was some tasteless reminiscing, that’s all.”

  “We’re in complete agreement about how tasteless it was, at least,” Siobhán muttered. “And I don’t appreciate having that news sprung on me in the midst of a dinner party!”

  A stab of gui
lt went through her. “You knew about the ones I had with Brigid and Nora.”

  “Those were different, Annie!”

  “Why? Because they were with two women?”

  “No, because they weren’t with the man who sells my work,” Siobhán hissed. “You should have told me!”

  “Yeah, maybe I should have,” Annie admitted. “Except there were a lot of reasons why it didn’t seem like a good idea.”

  “Like what?” Siobhán crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Like the fact that it’s Gabriel, and I’m kinda embarrassed to admit I hooked up with him. Not to mention the fact that he is someone you work with and someone we have to deal with in the future. And ... and because I know how you feel about bisexual women. And it didn’t leave me with the feeling that you’d be very open-minded about things.” Annie sighed heavily.

  “Well, if I felt like I could trust bisexual women, it would be different!”

  “Is this about Laura?” Annie snapped. Siobhán looked away, unable to meet her eye. “Jesus. Of course, it is!” Annie threw up her hands. “Everything seems to be about her.”

  “I’m not the one who had a bleeding threesome with my college roommate and her boyfriend!” Siobhán shouted.

  “Well, I’m not going to apologize for one night that meant nothing and took place almost fifteen years ago,” Annie shouted back. “This is ridiculous, Siobhán, and I’m tired of your jealousy. And I’m tired of living with the ghost of Laura hanging over us.”

  A car slid to a stop in front of them, and Annie groaned when Siobhán’s phone vibrated in her hand. “Looks like your ride is here,” she snapped.

  “My ride?”

  Annie sighed and fished through her purse for her phone. “I’ll have another car pick me up and take me home.”

  “To your place?”

  “Yes. I really don’t feel like going home with you right now.”

  Siobhán looked at her with a hurt expression. “Fine. But don’t be absurd. The driver can drop you off at your place, then take me to mine.”

  Annie hesitated, but it did seem pointless and stupid to wait for another ride. “Fine,” she said with a sigh.