Chapter 20
B ack at work at the gallery, Petra smoothed down her skirt and fixed her fitted vest as she stood and walked toward her boss.
Lorne Miaski was a tall and imposing man, but he never once intimidated her.
He had a pleasant smile, a fair way of dealing with people, and he had one hell of an artist’s eye.
He had been instrumental in starting the careers of fifteen different local artists.
“Ms. Franklin. What’s on the docket today?”
She opened her tablet and started to read off the list. “And you have a meeting at eleven, but the agenda doesn’t say with whom.”
“Ah, yes. No worries on that. Full day. I’ll need you to handle the intake for the Reynolds show and I’ll need you to take the info...” She listened to him go through his day, basically leaving only two of the fifteen things for himself.
“Wonderful. I’ll start on that now.”
“You do that.” He looked down at his cell phone. “Ah, I have to take this.” He walked away, lifting the phone to his ear, leaving her to get on with the laundry list of tasks alone.
The morning rolled by, Petra on the phone for most of it, and in the database updating the four sales that she had facilitated. Three people had come in, two picking up and one looking for a piece of art, but for the most part, it had been business as usual.
Until the door opened and Easton stepped in.
"Hey, you." His grin was as genuine as it was unexpected. "How are you doing?"
“Better now,” she said softly so no one could hear it, just him. God he looked good. Jeans, boots, a green Henley, a black leather jacket and that fucking smile. Gods, he was sexy. Louder she said, “Mr. James. Nice to see you. Can I help you?”
"I have a meeting with Lorne at eleven," he told her. "Now that you know who I am, I have a series of artworks I can show and Lorne called me last week to say you have a sudden vacancy next week. One of your other artists pulled out. If you'll arrange for a porter, they're in my van out the front."
“Of course.” She nodded. “I’ll have Michael and Gabe bring them in.” She called back to their warehouse guys and then looked to Easton. “I’m sure it will only be a few minutes ‘til I can send you in.” She bit her lip, looking him over. “So what’s the new show?”
"You know what? I don't think I'm going to ruin the surprise," he told her, his lips tightening as he clearly tried not to smile.
“Meanie.” She shook her head on a chuckle, then leaned against the desk. “You doing okay? Carter told me you were the one to check in on me the other day. Thanks for that.”
"Of course," he told her. "I just wanted to make sure you had food. We used you hard. And I'm not a meanie. I want you to experience this artwork without any prior thought or feeling going into it."
She nodded. They had. “Well, it was delicious. And thoughtful.”
Lorne came out from his office then to see them standing there. “Easton!” He smiled and shook hands with him. “Tell me you brought the work!”
"It's in the van," he told Lorne with a grin. "Petra has kindly arranged for the guys to bring them in. I think you're going to like them."
As if on cue, Michael and Gabe rolled in a sectioned dolly. They followed the warehouse porters into the exhibition room and watched as the guys added each piece, seven of them, to the easels. They were each wrapped, so what they actually were was hidden.
“Seven? Just seven?” Lorne asked as they stood there. “Should they unwrap?”
"Go for it." Easton gestured for them to go ahead and turned slightly so he could watch her face as the covers came off.
At first she wasn't sure what she was seeing. His bold approach to mixed media meant that sometimes the eye had to adjust the dimension of the image until it coalesced into focus and then...oh, holy fuck...it was her.
On the first canvas, she was literally aflame.
..a session with Plague. It had to be. Bent over a gravestone.
Ghost, no question. The third was harder until she got closer to it, and realized that the shading on her naked body was done with needles.
It must have taken him hours. "I've had this collection for over a year now," he was telling Lorne in a conversational tone, but his eyes were on Petra as she stared at her naked body, on display for the world to see.
She swallowed, and then again, trying not to let it affect her.
But they were...beautiful. Each of the pieces, one for each of the guys, was her in the throes of passion.
Her on her knees, head bowed, habit keeping her largely hidden.
She knew it hid the cum that had run down her face after Finn had baptized her.
Her tied up in silks, the way Goblin had left her after he’d fucked her within an inch of her life.
Her lying on the ground, her face obscured, a hand around her throat as she arched.
That was when Emerson had fingered her. And finally, her tied over the Sybian, handprints on her ass.
Memories came back to her and she rolled her shoulders, stifling a whimper and a moan. She looked to Easton and bit her bottom lip.
“This is... Easton, you have outdone yourself,” Lorne said. “The light, shadow, composition.” He looked them over. “What are we calling this series?”
"Worship.” He very carefully didn't look at her as he said it, but the back of his hand caressed the curve of her hip discreetly.
The touch... Snake was actually touching her! Her body clenched and she bit her lip again. Fuck, what she wouldn’t give to jump into his arms and rub against him. Not that she thought he would welcome that in the least.
“This show is going to be the most celebrated so far, Easton. To think you have been sitting on these for a year? Don’t get me wrong, your other shows have been fantastic. But this? This is transcendent.”
"I had a good subject. As a muse, she is...inspiring." He said it casually, unaware of the effect the words had on her. Or perhaps too aware.
“Dare I hope she attends and I can meet the muse?” Lorne asked with a smile. “This show...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “We need to talk price per piece, but...” He whistled softly, still in awe.
Petra looked to Easton then, reaching over her chest to hug her own bicep and taking the opportunity to run her finger across his arm softly, before relaxing her stance. She wanted to talk with him, but everything with Snake was on his terms.
She watched them walk out of the room, leaving her alone in the exhibition, faced with her own memories.
“Ms. Franklin? Are we okay to leave these?”
She looked to Gabe. “Yes. And I think you guys are done for the day?”
“Just the drop off of the seller’s piece,” Michael said.
“Well then, once that’s been installed, take the rest of the day.” She knew Lorne was planning to leave as well, which was why he had given her so much of his to do list. And she understood why he’d wanted to handle his eleven o’clock himself.
Alone in the room, she looked over the pieces more, falling in love with them harder. Easton was a talent, but this...he made her look like a goddess.
After ten minutes or so, presumably during which they signed contracts, Lorne and Snake reappeared. Lorne waved her goodbye, but Snake lingered by her desk until they were alone.
"So?" He smirked. "Am I still a meanie?"
“Kinda, but for different reasons.” She smiled at him. “They are beautiful. Seeing them, seeing how ethereal you made them, how much movement and care they each had...the effect is overwhelming. Honestly, I would jump into your arms and show you, but we aren’t there yet, are we?”
“No. And, honestly, that might take a while. But I'm trying." He looked so raw and vulnerable in that moment.
She nodded. “That’s all I can hope for. One day you will let me kiss you for this,” she offered. “Thank you for making me look beautiful.”
"I didn't make you look anything other than what you are," he told her. "I just captured what I saw."
“Like Carter does with his pictures?” She smiled. “I kinda like being your muse. And I wouldn’t mind being her through the year,” she said hopefully. “No strings...of course.”
"I actually used some of his photos in these works," he said. "I'd like to paint you from life, but a lot of what I do is afterwards. I take the shapes and forms and then I layer them, sometimes for many months."
“That sounds intensive, and...fun.” She grinned.
“I’m always here for that, Easton,” she said softly, trying to keep her distance.
The man was broody and beautiful and being there with him was in no way awkward.
She liked talking to him, wanted to spend time talking about artists, what his favorites were.
She took a shot. “What’s the rest of your day looking like?
Lorne just left and I have a lunch break coming up. ”
"Well then, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't escort you to lunch?" He laughed. "You can tell me about your favorite artists." It was like he had read her mind.
“And you can tell me about yours.” She grinned. “Sand and Fog, or Crowsnest?” Both small eateries were close to the gallery, just a few minutes’ walk away. Both were out of the way and they wouldn’t be disturbed. “Or dim sum?” which was where she usually went.
"Whichever is your favorite," he said with a shrug. "I'll eat anything."
“Even those foods based on dares?” she teased. “Come on.”
Fifteen minutes later they were sitting in the back corner of her favorite dim sum place just a block away, their order having been taken for drinks. “They send the dumplings out as they are ready. I told Yuki to bring out non-vegetarian ones since I’m sure you’re not vegetarian.”
"That's very presumptuous of you," he said, but the creases at the corners of his eyes said he was teasing.
“You are right, but something tells me you aren’t...satisfied without a little blood.” She winked and then shook her head. “But you are right; I should have asked. I can have her bring just the vegetarian ones out.”