18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
S omething had changed.
Lily couldn’t put her finger on what exactly it was, but as the days ticked by, Tony had withdrawn even more. When she’d stop by his office, he was either in a meeting or heading to a meeting. He never had time to talk.
He was back to buttoning up with his bowties—all businesslike and proper. And she didn’t understand it.
So, she pushed aside her hurt feelings and instead focused on getting ready for the art competition.
She kept herself so busy working out the final details for the festival, helping out at the Bell farm, and running her own business that she was running on fumes.
Whatever was happening, or in this case, not happening between her and Tony, was just going to have to wait until after the festival.
Tony had stopped by that evening to work out some final details for the festival. Part of her wanted to tell him she was too busy, but that wasn’t her style. Besides, they really had to finish things up. The festival would be upon them before they were ready.
“Are you feeling okay?” Tony sent her a concerned look.
She looked up from her laptop where she was filling in the spreadsheet she’d created to keep the preparations on schedule. “Sure. Why?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
Did she look that bad? She hoped not. The truth was that she’d been working late each evening on the endless details for the festival. And then collapsing into bed before her alarm would go off so she could get up with the sun to work on her entry for the competition.
She hadn’t let anyone see it. But she was certain this was her best work ever. It had to be if she was going to win.
“I know the festival has been a lot of work.” His voice drew her from her thoughts.
“It has been, which is why I’m going to strongly suggest that you hire Aster an assistant or two. And you need to give her a big raise. I don’t have a clue how she organizes all of these events on her own.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Honestly, until now I didn’t know what went into making them work.”
Lily wasn’t sure what to say. Since their almost-kiss, things had turned awkward between them. Their text messages and phone calls were all business. There was nothing friendly or fun about them.
The arts festival was the next week. It was going to be a three-day event, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. This meant they were quickly running out of chances to fix things between them—if he wanted to fix things.
“We have most of the work done,” she said. “Why don’t we go for a walk on the beach?”
Tony was quiet for a moment, giving her a glimmer of hope that he would accept her invitation. But then he shook his head. “I don’t think so. I have some stuff I need to do at home.”
She noticed he wasn’t specific about what he had to go home and do. Not that she cared. But it did make her wonder if his excuse was real. Or, was it just some sort of pretext so he wouldn’t have to spend more time with her?
Not willing to give up, she said, “Well, at least come see my latest project.”
He sent her a curious look. “What project?”
She smiled. “I’ve been painting.”
Before he could make another excuse to leave, she headed for her art room. She was so excited about this painting.
He was the first person to see it. Her stomach shivered with nerves. What if he didn’t think it was that good? What would she do?
Maybe she should have kept it to herself until the contest. But it was too late now because Tony was following her to the room.
Besides, it would be good to get someone else’s perspective. It would help prepare her—allow her to adjust her expectations now instead of in front of the whole town of Bluestar.
She watched as he stepped into the room. His gaze traveled around the walls until he spotted the easel in front of the sliding doors.
Without a word, he stepped closer to the easel. She quietly followed him, hanging back just enough not to distract him. She wanted him to take a good look at the painting—her painting. It was by far the largest painting she’d ever attempted.
A couple of long minutes passed before he turned to her. “I think this is your best work yet.”
“You do?” She didn’t know just how much she’d needed to hear that.
“I’m not an expert, but I love how the water has movement, and the sunshine reflects off it. But it’s the details with the seashells that really make it stand out. I think this is what you were meant to do.”
Happy tears rushed to her eyes. And before she could consider her actions, she was flinging herself at him. Her arms slipped beneath his and wrapped around him.
For so long, she’d bought into her father’s words of taking the safe route and running her own business right there on the island. But what if she were to sell this painting and others like it? What if she could make a living off of her art? What if her dream took her to New York City?
A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she pulled away from him. She quickly swiped away the happy tears.
She tilted her chin upward until she could look into his eyes. “Thank you. You don’t know how much I’d hoped you would say that.”
“I take it you’ve decided to pursue your art.”
She nodded. “Now I just have to hope the judges like seashells.”
Tony’s brows scrunched together. “What judges?” Before she could answer, he said, “You don’t mean the judges for the festival, do you?”
“I don’t know why you are looking so surprised. Of course I’m entering it. What serious artist wouldn’t enter? I still don’t know how Aster was able to garner the impressive judges, but I am thankful to her.”
Tony opened his mouth, as though to say something to her, but then he wordlessly pressed his lips closed. His gaze moved from her to the canvas and then back to her again.
She knew there was something he wanted to say, so why wasn’t he saying it? Did he want to warn her that she might not win? If that were the case, he didn’t have to worry. She knew it was a long shot.
The point was that instead of just dreaming the dream, she was taking action. For too long now, she’d let her dreams float around in her head. As painful as her father’s death had been, it had taught her this: time was precious. She needed to seize the moment before life passed her by.
Tony still had the perplexed look on his face. She couldn’t take it any longer. “Whatever it is,” she said, “just say it.”
“Lily...”
Just the way he said her name sent alarm bells ringing in her head. Her gaze moved from his to the painting. Was there something wrong with it?
Anxiety and frustration churned within her. “You’re worrying me. Would you just talk to me?”
Sympathy shone in his eyes. “You can’t enter the contest.”
And then she realized the problem. He probably thought this was all spur of the moment for her. The registration deadline was a few weeks ago, right before Aster collapsed. Lily had turned hers in on time—at Aster’s insistence. Her friend said that she was too talented not to enter.
“You don’t have to worry.” She moved past him to look at the painting, wondering if it needed a little more detail. “I registered for the contest ahead of the deadline. There’s nothing to stop me from entering.”
When she turned back to him, he was raking his fingers through his hair. As she’d learned while working with him, the hair raking thing was never a good sign. So, if it wasn’t the registration, what was it?
And then her stomach sank. Did he not think she was good enough? Was that it? Had he lied to her about liking the painting?
She crossed her arms, bracing herself. “You hate the painting.”
“What?” He sent her a confused look. “I told you it’s fabulous, and I don’t lie.”
“Then I don’t get it. Why don’t you think I should enter the contest? Just say it.”
His broad shoulders drooped ever so slightly. “You can’t enter because you organized the event. I can’t enter either. Although, I don’t think anyone would want to see my stick men.”
She knew his self-deprecating comment was his attempt to lighten the moment, but she wasn’t having any of it. “I am entering this contest.” Her voice was firm. “Aster organized the festival and contest. Not me. She thought it up. She rounded up the judges. Not me .”
“But she didn’t follow through with it. You and I did. And I know this must be disappointing—”
“Stop.” She held out her palm, as though to block his words. “I don’t care how you spin this, I am entering the contest. You know how much this means to me.”
“But the rules say you can’t.”
“You and your rules and regulations. I don’t get it.
I don’t remember you being such a rule follower back when we were kids.
In fact, I remember you and Neil when you were like twelve borrowing my dad’s cart without permission so you could go fishing at the tip of the island.
Dad reported it stolen, and the sheriff almost arrested both of you. And then there was the time—”
“Lily, stop. That was a long time ago. We were just kids then. But we aren’t kids any longer, and rules matter. You can’t enter the contest. I’m very sorry.”
Anger, disappointment, and pain churned within her. This was not how she imagined things would go when she revealed her work to him.
“Lily, please understand—”
“Just go.” She didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say. He’d already said more than enough.
He looked at her as though to say more, but then he wisely turned away. Without another word, he walked out of the room. She stood still, not so much as breathing until she heard the creak of the front door.
When she was at last alone, the pent-up breath whooshed out of her. This couldn’t be happening.
After they’d gotten stuck in the elevator, she’d mistakenly thought this was their second chance to see if there was something real between them—something more than friendship. And yet it had only taken one kiss—wait, it wasn’t even a kiss—and it had Tony backing away.