Chapter Eleven
One of the many things Naomi adored about Jason was how willing he was to just dive in. Whether he was doing it to spend time with her or doing it because he wanted to, or doing it for Ash, it didn’t matter. He was there.
Holding his hand as they walked into the bookstore, following the aisles and shelves, stopping at the car to drop off their purchases before heading back into town, stopping for a chocolate pretzel before heading down to the waterfront, and walking back up to the biggest, most amazing dinner at the Caf and Nosh.
She’d heard about it for years, and when she turned to Jason she smiled. “What did you think of that?”
“I’m in awe,” he said as they headed down Broadway toward the gallery. “I’ve eaten at Levitans in Briarwood, obviously because wow. But like this? Knowing that this is Levitan’s wife’s place? Where things started?”
She nodded. “There wasn’t anything on that menu I didn’t want to try, and I cannot wait to try it all.”
He grinned at her. “I want to come back for their Cavalcade of Latkes,” he said, and she could see the light of interest glowing in his eyes. “Now that we know the place, I definitely see myself coming back, you know?”
She nodded. “I look forward to it,” she said. Making it obvious in her way that she’d go with him no matter what. “I’m also glad we no longer have to walk uphill.”
Jason laughed. “I don’t think I could have walked another step on Main Street. It’s practically vertical and I am, unfortunately, out of shape on long distances or verticals.”
“I was just glad that the seats were so comfortable,” she said. “I think the Caf and Nosh was the definition of our soft place to land tonight.”
He laughed and then got serious, pointing up at the sign. “We’re here.”
That was the other thing about a small town: everything was close, yet the rhythm and theme of a business district changed from step to step. Hollowville’s was slightly bigger than most, and Naomi felt she needed to quickly make the switch from relaxed tourist to experienced professional.
“You ready?”
He nodded.
Of course, Naomi wasn’t sure what to expect from a gallery in Hollowville; the personality of the town was very specific, drawn to restaurants and antiques and nail salons, not as many galleries, unlike Briarwood where she’d grown up.
But unlike what she’d expected, research told Naomi that the Hollowville art gallery had, in fact, not only survived, but more importantly had thrived.
And as she entered the building, she realized why.
The bright entranceway that caught the light from the outside, how the internal and external architecture matched with the architecture of the town in a way that permitted the space to simultaneously fit in and stand out.
To put it simply, the gallery was a work of art.
“Good evening,” said an older woman with the greenest eyes Naomi had ever seen. “Welcome to the space. Molly Concannon. And you are?”
“Naomi Nachman,” she said, gesturing toward Jason. “This is Jason Greenblatt.”
“Nice to meet you both,” the older woman said. “You know you’re early for the show?”
Naomi nodded. “I know,” she said. “But I think we’re supposed to be meeting Tom.”
“Oh right,” she said, heading toward a random table that had been placed in the middle of the gallery. “He said something about two people coming early. He ran out for a coffee; he’ll be right back if you want to wait?”
“Waiting isn’t a problem, especially because I’ve been meaning to come for a while, but I haven’t had the chance until now.”
“Aah yes. Operating from those mistaken ideas about small towns, probably perpetrated by those HeartPix movies so many people watch.”
“Those movies wouldn’t know what to do if they visited the small town she’s from,” Jason replied.
Jason was right. Briarwood and its ‘more galleries than people’ attitude toward art was…
special. And yet the last thing she wanted to do was insert the name ‘Briarwood’ into a conversation with the gallery owner; they’d be talking for a year about preconceived notions and different galleries, which was good and which wasn’t, whether the conversation was good or bad.
Either way, Naomi wasn’t there to have a conversation about Briarwood.
She’d come to have, a wonderful night, looking at a photography exhibit as well as speaking to the photographer.
Which meant she needed to nip the conversation in the bud.
“I’m just glad to be here,” she said before getting a sudden flash of inspiration.
“While we’re waiting, if you have time?”
Molly raised an eyebrow as did Jason. “Yes?”
“Can you tell me how you got the idea to open the gallery?”
And like Naomi had hoped, if not predicted, Molly’s eyes lit up.
Entrepreneurs, especially people who did what they thought was unexpected, had stories to tell.
And not only did Naomi want to know the story, she figured as Jason was becoming clearer about what he wanted to do, listening to someone who broke the mold would help.
Of course, as Molly continued to tell the story about how the gallery had started; the way she’d found a community in Hollowville all those years before despite everything she herself had expected, Jason’s eyes widened. He was inspired, and she loved seeing him like this.
“But the fantastic part of this is that the person exhibiting tonight was actually one of my earlier shows quite a few years ago. A sculptor brought all of his friends, and the photographer was one of them. He loved the gallery so much that he’s been back a few times. But this one is special.”
“How so?”
“A few years ago,” she began, “after his first exhibition, he and his friends were discussing a few things, and he, very quietly, started a photography class at one of the local schools. This exhibit is a few of his rarer pieces, with the proceeds being to fund the purchase of some photography equipment.”
“That’s wonderful,” Jason said, clearly impressed and even more excited than Naomi had expected. “I’m impressed.”
“As impressed as I was when I heard you were coming?”
Naomi turned to see a tall guy with dark curls and sparkling brown eyes. “Tom Walker,” he said.
“Nice to meet you,” she said. “Naomi Nachman.”
“Jason Greenblatt…”
“Right,” he said. “You play poker with Samuel?”
Naomi laughed. “What is it with these poker games?”
“Adult networking,” he replied. “There’s a bunch of different games and I play a few, but mostly Ash’s. I know other games through Ash though.”
“Jacob’s mentee Ash?” Tom asked. “But wait…you cooked for the gala back in December. It was fun taking dreidl photos.”
“That I did,” he replied. “And I loved seeing all of the art available. It was a great party.”
“And,” Naomi added, “from what I know, it raised a ton of money for some amazing causes.”
“Speaking of amazing causes,” Tom began, “I heard from Samuel that you wanted to talk?”
Naomi nodded. “I assume you got the email?”
Tom shook his head, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jason’s amusement at the other man’s reaction. “You know, you two didn’t have to come all this way to talk to me.”
“Two birds, one stone,” Naomi replied, “we got a nice day in Hollowville, and we’re ending it with a gorgeous exhibit of photographs, which is raising money for a good cause. And we’re going to talk to the photographer my cousin wants for her wedding without her knowing we’re restructuring it.”
There was a pause. “Restructure?”
Naomi nodded. “Re-signing contracts under a different agency.”
Tom nodded, as if the information had just occurred to him. “Right. The email. It makes sense, especially considering you don’t want to raise suspicion about what’s going on behind the scenes.”
Naomi nodded. “Yeah. Exactly. So, I figured we’d come by, hang out…”
“New agency?”
Naomi nodded again. “NN Events is the name of the company.”
“Well congratulations.” He paused, looked around. “Anyway, hang out, make yourselves at home. I have to do some setup.”
She was going to let him head off, but it was Jason who said something.
“You want some help?”
Naomi waited, wondering what Tom was going to say.
“When I’m doing something in a smaller space like this,” he said, “I usually have at least one person here to help with setup. But for reasons I can get into later, I’m running solo tonight.
Which means I would very much appreciate the help.
” He paused, looked between both of them.
“I can sign something if you guys want?”
Naomi shook her head. “No. This one is friends helping friends.”
Tom nodded. “I appreciate it, and when I need something big planned, I’ll keep you posted.” Then he turned to Jason. “Can you man the snack table, set it up?”
He nodded. “Absolutely. I can do that.”
“You want me to watch the door? Check the list?”
Tom laughed. “I actually think I have something else you can do for me.”
Naomi snapped into her professional mode, eyeing the room and the photographer for anything he might possibly need, knowing Jason would be at her back. “Okay?”
“Organization. Setup. Help.”
Naomi blinked at the mix of words, but she pulled out her phone and turned on her notes app. “Do you have a plan you like to use with smaller spaces, or did you have any ideas you wanted to try here?”
The deer in the headlights expression settled on Tom’s face in a way that amused Naomi.
“My friend who usually comes with me is the one who plans the space,” Tom finally said, as if he was confessing something embarrassing.
“But he’s a visual artist as well, and he’s got his own show tomorrow, which means he’s got to do his prep work. ”
“Aaaah.” And two things just fell into place. “I’m actually looking for an event designer. Does your friend do that sort of thing?”
Tom nodded, oddly relieved. “He does. He’s done a few things, but his understanding of space and flow is second to none. I can give you his number after we finish tonight, by the way, if you want it?”