Grant
GRANT
The night was cool as he stepped out of the cab and onto the sidewalk. From what he’d gathered from Lydia, the art show was a formal event, and he’d had to drag his suit out from the back of the closet. Thankfully, he’d done it early enough to take the stale-smelling outfit to a dry cleaner. By the time he’d retrieved it after work, he’d had all of two hours to get dressed and meet Lydia at the address she provided.
“Thank you,” he murmured to the cab driver, tapping out a tip before closing the door.
Steady streams of people were already making their way into the gallery. It was a relatively simple building with clean lines and minimal decoration. Banners hung on each side of the front entrance, black with gold trim, and lights shone from within the shrubs around the base of the building, illuminating the front. As he looked at the way everyone going in was dressed, he was glad he’d chosen a suit rather than something more casual.
“Dr...uh, ?” a voice called from his left.
He turned to find Lydia standing on the sidewalk. “Oh, you beat me here.”
“I’m always early,” she told him.
looked her over, nodding his approval. Charcoal gray, off-the-shoulder dress with an intricate lace design on the top. It didn’t demand attention, but it was beautiful. The silver chain around her throat and small hoops in her ears added a bit of sparkle. What drew his attention was Lydia’s upright pose and how she stepped toward him with the same purpose he’d seen in the hospital hallways, albeit in heels this time.
smiled. “And don’t you just look stunning?”
She practically shone under the praise. “Well, thank you. I don’t get to drag out the good stuff as often as I’d like. Dom hates dressing up.”
“Or maybe he hates the attention you draw.”
She swatted his arm playfully. “Charmer...continue.”
held out his arm. “Just being honest.”
“Intelligent, beefy, and charming? Honestly, , how are you still single?” she asked as she looped her arm through his.
shook his head. “Please don’t make me regret complimenting you by going on a crusade this early in the night.”
“So I shouldn’t mention that you look absolutely amazing in that suit?”
The corner of his mouth crooked upward. “I never said that.”
“Good because you dress up very nicely, Dr. Andrews.”
“,” he corrected.
“I think, in this case, I should be addressing you as Mister because you have a Mister feel about you right now.”
He mounted the steps with her, frowning. “What does that mean?”
“Well, I would have gone with sir, but that...would be awkward.”
gave a low, strangled noise. “Lydia!”
She laughed, the sound tinkling in the soft din of the gallery. “I’m sorry.”
The smirk on her face told him she wasn’t sorry at all. It was probably good that she hadn’t known about his somewhat awkward conversation with Theo days before. could only imagine the number of jokes and references she would have made.
“It’s packed in here,” said, trying to change the topic.
Lydia nodded. “The artist is apparently quite popular in some circles. It looks like he’s spreading out more, and word’s got around quick.”
“This is the part where I tell you I have no idea who this man is. Local art isn’t exactly my thing.”
Lydia squeezed his elbow. “Omega.”
“As in Alpha Omega?” asked with a raised brow.
“Could be, could be something else. What he’s about is pretty much up to you.”
A glance around told him this wasn’t a modern art exhibit. wouldn’t say it aloud, but he would never understand the appeal of modern art. Personally, he found the entire movement pretentious. Someone made a mess on a canvas and called it art, while everyone else, bent on being seen as cultured and intelligent, eagerly swallowed the whole thing. A bit cynical, but he’d take a landscape any day.
“So we’re supposed to interpret it,” finally said.
“That’s what I’ve been told. I’ve seen some of his work before, and it is beautiful.”
His eyes were drawn to the nearest work, the space in front already crowded with exquisitely dressed people. A dirty sidewalk littered with trash and dark, probably foul liquid in the gutter. From a dark gash in the sidewalk grew a flower. The plant didn’t look very healthy to ’s eye, but it grew all the same.
“I think I see what you mean,” told her.
Lydia brightened. “Oh, look, Champagne.”
Sure enough, on a long table just by the entrance, several flutes of Champagne waited to be scooped up. preferred a good cold beer over Champagne, but he wouldn’t turn his nose up. They each took a glass, sipping as they silently watched the crowd of people.
“Sparkling wine,” he told her after a drink.
“What?”
“It’s sparkling wine. I’ve had Champagne, this isn’t it.”
“Are you getting snooty on me, ?”
He let out a low chuckle. “No, I just know the difference. Plus, I’d be happier with my feet up on my porch and a Heineken in my hand.”
“Salt of the earth, gotta love it,” she teased.
“Aren’t you supposed to be here to look at art?” he asked her wryly.
“I’m here to dress up and feel pretty. And maybe mingle with the high and mighty to feel special.”
raised a brow. “So tell me, how did you get tickets to this?”
“Oh, the director and I go way back.”
“Really?”
Lydia beamed. “She wasn’t always part of the fancy schmancy crowd. She came from a poor neighborhood, just like me. I went for nursing, but she went for art. Told her it was a bad idea, but look at her now, running one of the best art galleries in the city. She sure showed me.”
“You bet I did,” a new voice said.
Lydia’s eyes widened. “Emily!”
had to give Lydia credit, she kept the sound of her joy to a relatively soft squeal. It still drew attention from the nearby people, but neither she nor Emily seemed to notice. Lydia shoved her glass into ’s hand and quickly wrapped her arms around the brunette’s neck.
“Oh, this looks amazing!” Lydia proclaimed.
“Thank you. Heaven knows it felt like it was bordering on a disaster leading up to it,” Emily told her, holding her smile.
“Oh, no. Why is that?”
“Oh, you know, artists. They can be...well, they’re a unique bunch.”
kept his smile hidden by taking a drink from his Champagne flute. He didn’t personally know any artists, but the woman’s words were laced with enough weight and meaning that they probably would have sunk if thrown in the bay.
“Well, it still looks amazing, and everyone seems to love it,” Lydia told her.
“Well, thank you.”
Lydia turned to . “Emily, this is my date for the night. Say hello to .”
Emily’s eyes lit upon him. “Oh! This is the doctor you’ve been tormenting for months.”
“I have not been tormenting anyone!”
chuckled, taking her hand gently. “Good evening. I’m so glad my and Lydia’s reputation precedes us.”
“Well, hers does anyway,” Emily said with a sideways look toward her friend.
Lydia sighed. “I should have known this would be a mistake.”
“Has she tried setting you up?” Emily asked.
snorted. “From about the second week of knowing me. Hasn’t stopped yet. I’m waiting for her to try while we’re here.”
Emily smiled. “You can bet she will.”
“Emily!” Lydia protested.
Emily held up her left hand, showing off the flashy diamond ring. “Still, you might want to give her a chance. As far as matchmaking skills go, she’s not too bad.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Lydia huffed. “As much as your amazing endorsement makes me so happy, I’d love a chance to catch up. It’s been ages .”
“True, I have been rather busy. , do you mind if I steal your date for a little while?” Emily asked.
waved them off. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll take a gander around while you two catch up.”
Lydia winked at him before following Emily deeper into the room. shook his head and walked away from the table to peer at the work. It didn’t take him long to sense a pattern. They were all pretty dreary and depressing, using dark and somber tones. Usually showcasing dismal environments and painted in a way that struck as realistic yet emphasizing mood more than reality.
One, in particular, caught his eye, bringing him to a stop as he looked it over. He recognized it as a rendition of the cliffs a couple of miles outside the city limit. The sky was dark, cut through with smears of violet near the middle, with streaks of muddied orange and yellow on the horizon. The sea was roiling and dark, white tips delicately added as though to show how high and strong the waves were. could almost hear the howling of the wind as it whipped around the face of the jagged cliff and smell the salt as the waves crashed against the beach.
And at the top of the cliff stood a lone figure, hands held out. It was hard to tell if the figure was simply bathing in the raw, primal force of the ocean or preparing to tip forward, freefalling into the sea below.
“Like that one, huh?” a familiar voice asked him.
jerked out of his reverie, taking half a step back when he found Theo standing beside him. He’d cut his hair so only blond stubble was left behind, and he didn’t look as disheveled as he had in the hospital. He’d changed his grungy jeans for a fresh pair of black ones that hugged his narrow hips. The wrinkled t-shirt had been replaced with a black tank top, covered by a green vest left unzipped. could see more tattoos, myriad symbols curling up around his left shoulder to his back, a snake wrapping itself completely around his right bicep. There were so many, and that didn’t include what looked like writhing shapes of some sort.
blinked, scrambling for words. “Ah. Uh, Theo, hello.”
Theo winked, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I never would have expected to see you here.”
looked around at the well-dressed people. All of them had probably spent several hundred dollars on their looks alone. And here was Theo, standing out like a sore thumb in his exceptionally casual outfit. Yet even would admit that Theo managed to make a sore thumb look good. He vaguely wondered what it would feel like to run his hand over Theo’s freshly shorn head.
“Me?” protested, looking Theo over.
“What? My comments about those god-awful sculptures at the hospital didn’t hint that I might have opinions on art?” Theo asked.
didn’t have much to say to that. Almost immediately, he realized he’d made a judgment based on how Theo looked and acted. The man would have been more at home in a dingy club with thumping music you could feel in your feet.
Theo turned his attention back to the painting. “Watched you drift around for a bit. Was a little surprised since you didn’t seem like an art lover.”
“It’s pretty,” offered lamely.
Theo chuckled. “Pretty isn’t a word used to describe this art.”
looked at the painting. “I think this one is.”
“Really?” It wasn’t said doubtfully but curiously.
nodded, pointing at it with his wine flute. “It’s dark like the others, and you could say it was hopeless.”
“Could. But you don’t,” Theo said.
“I don’t know. It would depend on my mood, I guess. Catch me on a bad day, and I might think this was an ode to a rough life ending in suicide. Catch me on a good day, and I would see it as facing the incoming storm, arms wide open and ready to take what comes. Right now? I can see both, definitely both.”
“That so?” Theo asked, the playful light from his eyes dimming.
frowned. Had he said something wrong? “That’s what I take from it.”
“You know, Doc, I saw a pretty face first and a fun guy to tease second. Maybe I should have been looking a little closer.”
Only then did realize the look on Theo’s face was thoughtful and maybe even a little respectful. It was strange, looking out of place compared to the irritation followed by playful mischief of their previous meetings.
“That so?” asked, echoing Theo’s words.
Theo jerked his head toward the painting. “Notice how it doesn’t have a title?”
hadn’t, but as he looked beneath the painting, the plaque was empty. He scanned the room, looking over every piece he could see, and noticed a small piece of paper with scrawled writing underneath each.
“It’s the only one that doesn’t have a name,” Theo said.
“Why’s that?”
“The artist didn’t want to give it one, not to the public.”
“Hmm, interesting thought.”
“Yeah, artists are like that.”
chuckled, thinking of Emily’s words from before. “So I’ve been told.”
“Couldn’t decide on a name.”
“So, he left it unnamed.”
“Yeah, but I think ‘The Precipice’ will be the better of the options, don’t you?”
tilted his head, nodding. “I can see it. Both literal and figurative.”
“Glad you like it.”
stared at the painting a moment longer before something clicked into place in his mind. Blinking owlishly, he turned his widening eyes on Theo.
“Ah, there it is,” Theo said with a laugh, the glint returning to his eyes.
stared around the room, mouth hanging half-open. “You?”
Theo chuckled, opening his mouth and shutting it swiftly when a female voice called over the soft noise of conversation around them. looked over his shoulder to see a petite blond with a flowing gown of red motioning Theo over.
“Ah, and the pimp parade continues on and on,” Theo grumbled. “Maybe I’ll see you later, Doc.”
“Uh, yeah,” said.
He watched Theo walk off, his shoulders slightly slumped, but he moved gracefully and effortlessly, almost like a cat. ’s eyes lingered on him before turning to look at the paintings. They seemed too bleak and dreary compared to the impish, bright man who’d created them. He turned his attention back to the painting they’d talked about, cocking his head.
“The Precipice, huh?” he murmured, fingering the edge of his glass thoughtfully.