“Where?”
Jessica pursed her lips. “This one is hush-hush. He couldn’t even tell me, but they’re testing something new.” She shook her head. “I don’t like to think about it. I just pray it’s safe.”
Kathleen knew it would do no good to theorize. They lived next to a major naval research base, and while Cameron wasn’t military, he was a civilian contractor. She’d asked him once if he could divulge what he was working on. He grinned and said, “Making stuff go whoosh and bang.”
“So explosives and rocket engines?”
Cameron had just smiled at her, so she’d stopped asking questions. It was part of their life—the secrets the citizens who worked at the base had to keep.
Jessica tilted her head, admiring the work. “I think I’ll hang it in my office until he gets back.”
“Well, thanks for working this out,” Kathleen said. “I’m excited.”
“The Library Board knows how to take care of their favorite performer.”
“What does that mean?” Her eyes widened. Oh no, not again. Jessica had scheduled her for a library event without her permission? “Jessica...”
“The kids love your magic act.”
Her mouth gaped. “You didn’t.”
“Next Wednesday.”
She threw her hands up. “I don’t have any new magic tricks to show. They’ve already seen them all.”
She’d agreed to learn a few tricks as a volunteer for vacation bible school once, and somehow she’d been labeled a magician for life.
“I’m sure you’ll learn some new ones. The parents love Kathleen the Keen almost as much as the kids.” Jessica narrowed her eyes, her mop of ringlets dipping just over her forehead. Jessica had honey-colored curly hair, while Kathleen kept her chestnut locks cropped just underneath her chin.
“Please don’t get your hopes up about this art show.” Her sister glanced toward the foyer. “Hardly anyone even stops to look at what’s displayed.”
Kathleen looked over her shoulder to where moms with gaggles of children and teens in tow entered the library without so much as a second glance at her art. So much for the dream of admiring fans, but she didn’t want her sister to see the disappointment. She shrugged and forced a smile. “I’m still thankful for the chance.”
Jessica squeezed her shoulder. “I’ve got to sign out and go pick up the kids. See you at dinner tomorrow night?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” A movement to her left caught her eye. A man wearing a dark violet button-down shirt and gray dress pants walked up to her artwork. He put his hands in his pockets and examined each painting.
Short hair the color of burnt umber, a nicely trimmed beard, and broad shoulders kept her gaze lingering. His biceps bulged against the fabric. Would hugging a guy like that feel like cuddling with iron or more like being embraced by a giant teddy bear?
She hadn’t seen him walk in with a family. Kathleen wished Jessica hadn’t disappeared so fast so she could’ve pointed him out. Growing up as the mayor’s daughters, if Kathleen didn’t know someone in the small town, it was a sure bet her sister would.
The man shifted to study the next painting. This was no quick glance. He was genuinely interested. She bit her lip. She should just go home and start polishing her pitiful magic routine, but she couldn’t help herself.
She was dying to know what he was thinking.
Chapter Two
Matt Kaplan stepped closer to the center frame. When he’d seen the announcement in the newspaper he was surprised Kathleen lived in such a small town. Most artists seemed to head for the city, and Matt had made sure to keep an eye out for her in New York.
He tilted his head. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he recognized the painting. It was an acrylic depiction of a stone veranda, with a bistro chair and table looking out over a canal and a cliff covered in houses. It was beautiful, and reminiscent of somewhere in Italy. He squinted at the name signed in the corner. It was the painting.
He’d seen it at the college art fair he attended for extra credit in his humanities class, almost eight years ago. The image had seared into his brain, but only because he had opened his stupid mouth to the pretty artist. She’d introduced herself as all the artists had, and he being stupid and flirtatious, asked about her major. When she’d said art, he’d laughed and asked her what her back-up plan was because, “as a finance major, I can tell you it’s not very likely you can make a living at it.”
He’d never forgotten the way the life seemed to drain from her face. Eventually she’d pressed her lips together and excused herself. To make matters worse, his roommate, Nate—the football star of school, now a famous quarterback—instantly gave him grief about it, given she was the nicest girl in school. Like he needed to be told.
Besides the veranda piece, the other work was new to him. Five paintings in all depicted different areas of the world. He wondered if that was why she’d never moved to the city. Perhaps she was content to travel the world to paint but kept little ole Perry, Indiana, as her home base.
Matt turned toward the sound of shifting fabric, and his breath caught. Kathleen Wicks was approaching, and she looked as beautiful as the day he’d flirted all those years ago. Her hair was styled in a wavy bob that accentuated her wide blue eyes. But she didn’t acknowledge him. She stared straight ahead and meandered up to the paintings as if she was seeing them for the first time.
He followed her lead and faced the artwork.
“This must be a new artist,” she said, studying the painting to the right.
Matt grinned. He couldn’t help it. He cleared his throat and frowned. “No. I’m pretty sure she’s been working at her craft for years.”
In his peripheral her eyebrows rose in surprise. She spun toward him, the edge of her full skirt swishing against his knees. “Oh? Why do you think that?”
He pointed to the middle one. “Look at the expert brush strokes in this watercolor. The vibrant colors and the way they blend seamlessly. If this hung in a window without a frame, you might be tempted to mistake it as the real outdoors.”
She took a step back, frowned, and tilted her head. “Really? You think so?”
He nodded. “Sure. But this one…this veranda one—it’s true genius. I’m just sad there’s no price tag next to it.”
“You…you like it enough to buy it?”
He glanced quickly at her to find her jaw slack. He smirked, fighting back the grin. “Absolutely. I have eighty dollars in my wallet. I doubt it’d sell so cheap, but I’d jump at the chance if only I could meet the artist.”
She worried her hands together. “Oh, I don’t know. That sounds like a reasonable price for an unknown.” She shrugged. “You know, for a small town.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t resist baiting her. “How do you know it’s an unknown artist?”
Her beautiful blue eyes widened. “I…well, it’s at the library. I know some of the librarians here. I could ask one of them to contact the artist. I’m sure your offer is worth consideration.”
The back of his neck prickled, as it did every time his conscience rattled him. Matt took a step closer to her. “Or”—he whispered—“you could consider the offer yourself.” He straightened. “Kathleen.”
She took a step back, her cheeks flaming. “Was I that obvious?” She looked down at her hands. “I don’t even have paint under my nails. How’d you know?”
He waved at his beard. He hadn’t had one back in college. “You might not remember me, but I remember you. I’m Matt. We met at an art fair in college…a long time ago. I was kind of a jerk.”
Her forehead crinkled as she stared at him. He could tell the moment she recognized him, because the light in her eyes dimmed. “Oh. So you were messing with me.” She flashed a half-smile, but it seemed forced. “I suppose I deserve that.”
His shoulders sagged. This was going all wrong. Instead of righting a wrong, he was causing even more problems with another poor attempt at flirting. “No, n
ot at all. You just wanted an honest opinion, and I enjoyed letting you know what I really thought.”
She raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“I’m serious,” he went on. “I would love to buy that painting.”
“But…but that night you said—”
“Something stupid,” he finished for her. “And I’ve never forgotten it. Besides, I was clearly wrong. You’ve obviously made a go of it.”
She shook her head but still didn’t make eye contact. “Actually, I switched my major to web design and made art a minor. I suppose I should thank you.”
Matt didn’t know how to respond. While he wanted to believe she was right and his poor manners had pushed her in a wise direction, what if it had done the opposite? What if he had kept her from a successful career?
His attention moved to the entrance where a rowdy group of teens had entered. “I wouldn’t go that far. Not that what I did was right, but no one had ever said something to you before about pursuing art for a living?”
She laughed. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
He shook his head.
“Well, around here people seem to shield me from the truth. Make me think I can do no wrong. When I told people in my dorm what you said, everyone agreed with you.” She pursed her lips and shrugged. “Though they were much nicer about it.”
He laughed. “No doubt. Again, my apologies. So, about my offer?”
She stared into his eyes, and his neck warmed at the intensity of her gaze. Perhaps trying to gauge his sincerity or deciding if he was worthy to take her art. If the latter was the case, the answer would be no. Maybe he should’ve never asked…
“Accepted.”
She smiled, and he couldn’t help but mirror her expression. A rush of courage prompted his mouth to open. “Would you like to go to coffee sometime?”
Her face dropped, and she blinked rapidly. She looked trapped.
“I won’t be staying in town all that long,” he added. “I thought you could give me some tips about life in Perry.” He held his hands up in surrender. “And I promise, no unwanted career advice.”
He pulled out his wallet and handed her the eighty dollars in cash. Instead of waiting in the awkward silence for her answer, he slid out his business card. “You don’t have to decide now.”
She glanced down at his card, and her mouth dropped open. “You work for an art brokerage?” It sounded more like an exclamation than a question. She shook her head. “I recognize the company. This is one of the biggest ones in the country.”
“It’s actually the largest in the world.” He needed to make a graceful exit before he laughed at her shocked facial expression. “I know. Ironic that a finance major ends up working in the art industry.” He nodded at the business card. “There’s a story behind it, if you’re interested. It was nice seeing you again, Kathleen.” He lifted the frame off the wall. “And thank you for the painting.”
Chapter Three
Kathleen fingered the business card in her hand. She couldn’t believe it. The man who’d caused one of the most embarrassing and painful moments of her life had just asked her out...and he was an art broker who’d just bought her painting. If you were trying to blow my mind, God, you’ve succeeded.
Matt seemed nice enough now, though. If it turned out he was just as rude as ever, though, she would regret having sold him her favorite painting.
The four twenty dollar bills burned a hole in the pocket of her skirt. She was officially a professional artist. She couldn’t wait to go back to Jessica’s house and wave it around. “What was that you said about not getting my hopes up?” she’d ask.
Kathleen frowned. She needed something with more oomph so she could follow up with a “ba-bam” or an “oh, burn.” Or she could just dance around singing the chorus to “Money, Money, Money.” She grinned. Yeah, that was the one. She was so lost in her thoughts she almost didn’t notice the man barreling toward her.
With black, shaggy hair, a white button-down shirt, stonewashed jeans, and crazy eyes, he looked a little…well, stoned. He frowned as his eyes darted to the art, then her, then back to the art. “Is this the new art exhibit?”
Wow. Maybe she should plan to stay until the library closed. Take that, Jessica. “Did you see it in the paper?” she asked. “I had no idea people actually made special trips to see this sort of thing.” She was on the verge of gushing. She blamed the euphoria from having her art purchased for the first time.
He pursed his lips. “You the artist?”
Something about his hard stare and thick accent made her hesitate to answer. He didn’t seem happy about her artwork. Maybe he was about to rake her over the coals. Perhaps her sister had bumped her display over someone else’s, even.
“Uh, yes. Yes, I’m the artist.”
He nodded and pulled out a wad of cash from his jean pocket. “I’ll pay you a thousand dollars for the whole set.”
She gasped so sharply it caused her to cough. “Excuse me?”
“I’m in a hurry. You take the money; I take the art. We have a deal?”
She had more paintings at home. Maybe the frame shop could do a rush job, and she could have a new display up by tomorrow afternoon. Surely, Jessica would understand. It was a thousand dollars.
Wait.
She eyed the cash in his hands. Who spent a thousand dollars on someone’s unknown art in the library? She tilted her head and flashed a smile. “What’s your name?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Aldric.”
Unusual name but interesting he didn’t offer a last name with it. “Can I ask what makes you want to buy it?”
He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly as if exasperated. “I have an eye for art. I invest. This makes a good investment. We have a deal?” He nodded at the end of his question, and Kathleen couldn’t help but mimic the movement.
“Good.” He shoved the ball of cash into her hands and turned to pull the frames from the wall.
Kathleen didn’t want to push her luck, but who was she kidding? Every artist dreamed of a rich benefactor coming along and snapping them up. “I have more work I plan to display as soon as possible, if you’re interested.”
She wasn’t sure, but it almost looked like he rolled his eyes. “This is enough for now,” he answered, his voice gruff with a twinge of an accent, from where she couldn’t place.
She shoved the cash into her pocket and helped by taking down the watercolor and the last acrylic. He stacked the paintings roughly.
She cringed. “Oh. I could help you with that.”
“I’ve got it.” He picked up all four paintings and held them against his chest. Kathleen tried to compose her features, but felt her lip curl. There was no glass protecting the canvases. As he walked away she could see his knees hit the bottom edge of the longest one. She slipped her hand in her pocket to remind her of the tangible reason why she’d let her darlings go.
A guy like that, an art investor?
She knew the value would increase once she passed away. Every artist knew that. The art majors joked about it in college, but never before had she felt like it would ever be taken into consideration. Until five minutes ago, she would’ve assumed her work had no value but the joy it gave her.
Kathleen just hoped the man didn’t kill the artists to get a return on his investments.
**
Kathleen walked into her townhouse and flipped on the light. Silence and emptiness greeted her. Not unusual. Still, she didn’t move from the doorway.
It’d been a good day. Yet, sometimes the best days were the hardest days to come home…alone. She took a deep breath and pulled out Matt’s business card. She envisioned him alone in Perry, walking aimlessly around town in his violet shirt with his bulging biceps. What would be the harm in one coffee?
He answered on the third ring.
“Hey. It’s Kathleen. I was thinking…I would kick myself for turning down a free cup of coffee.”
Matt laughed. “Baloney. You
’re dying to know the story of how a finance major ended up in the art field.”
Kathleen smiled, walked to her blue couch, and flopped down. She picked up the throw pillow and squeezed it, but that made her wonder about what a hug from Matt would feel like again, so she flung it to the side. “You got me. I’m dying to know.” She rubbed the back of her neck. It seemed unseasonably warm. “I also feel bad that I interrupted your trip to the library.”
“I don’t follow.”
Kathleen smoothed out her skirt. “I assume you were at the library for a reason?”
“Yes, to see the art exhibit of Kathleen Wicks.”
Her breath caught. He had come specifically to see her work? She bit her lip. Her mind had gone completely blank.
“How about tomorrow?” His voice was low but pleasantly smooth.
She closed her eyes and mentally checked her calendar. “Uh…sure if you don’t mind getting coffee during my lunch break.”
“Then I insist on buying lunch, too.”
Her heart sped up. A meal together seemed too soon for a guy she’d spent a decade disliking. Sure, every time she thought of him she also made a conscious choice to forgive him. The hard feelings still remained, despite the equally intense desire to see him again.
“Actually, I usually eat at my desk. Every Sunday my sister and I cook a bunch of big meals together, and then I get to take a portion home for all my lunches. If I don’t eat them, it’ll be a waste, but an afternoon latte would be perfect. Where should I meet you?”
“I’m actually working from my aunt’s house while I’m in town. There’s a coffee shop right next door. Latte Coffee.”
She felt her eyes widen. Latte Coffee was on a corner. On one side was a community playground and on the other side… “You don’t live in the purple Victorian house, do you?” She snickered. “I always wondered what kind of person lived there.”
He was silent for a moment. For a second she thought he’d hung up. “What type of person did you imagine lived here?”
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