Chapter 18
Eighteen
Whitney tugged her rhinestone-studded belt with the turquoise buckle through the loops of her jeans, thankful they were still a perfect fit after all these years. The boots had some scuffs, but she’d used a good old Mr. Clean magic eraser on them, and they looked fine.
She applied a fresh coat of lipstick then twisted in the mirror, adjusting the collar of her heavily starched white blouse so that her necklace made a statement.
She pushed her hair back to keep the blingy, dangling earrings from getting tangled. A diamond tennis bracelet and big turquoise ring rounded out her outfit.
“Go figure,” she said to James, who seemed to appreciate the outfit by blowing a bunch of bubbles at the top of his bowl. “I’m actually looking forward to this event.” She dropped in a few flakes of food for him. How bad was it that the only dish she’d mastered was fish flakes for James?
Matthew texted he was on his way.
“Fine,” she said to James. “I’ll admit it. I’m looking forward to spending time with him, and he’ll be here shortly. Wish me luck.”
She grabbed her purse, the one she could clip to her belt, and then texted Matthew that she’d meet him downstairs.
“I don’t mind coming to the door to get you,” he wrote back.
But she was too nervous to stand and wait for the knock. “I’m on my way downstairs already,” she replied. She had to stop and make herself slow down.
She pressed the elevator button and silently counted the chimes as she descended each floor from fourteen to the first.
When the elevator doors opened, she bolted forward, running smack dab into Matthew.
“I’m so sorry. I thought you’d still be parking.”
“I got a spot right out front. You look great. Love the boots.” He grabbed her hand and twirled her. “Oh yeah. This is going to be a fun night.”
“And are you sure you don’t have a magic phone booth somewhere? From body paint rainstorm zombie man, to artist, then the whole black-tie thing, which you carried off very nicely, I might add. And now you look just as comfortable in a pair of Wranglers—and are those ostrich boots?”
“They are, thank you for noticing.” He tapped his toe back and forth. “They’re so comfortable.”
“Hey, that’s a UVA ring.” She’d noticed the ring on his right hand. “I went there too.”
He lifted his hand. “This was my dad’s. It’s one of the top architecture schools. I figured the ring would cover the diamond part, so you didn’t have to carry all the weight on bling, although you’re doing pretty well.”
He held the car door for her and pulled away from the curb.
They made small talk on the ride over to the venue. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“Me too. I’m glad you were able to come. I hope it’s fun. You never know with these fundraisers.”
“We’ll make the best of it. I can think of a lot worse things to have to attend. A rubber chicken dinner award ceremony for example.”
“True, and I’ve been to my share of those.” She rolled her eyes.
They parked and followed a crowd of others dressed in blingy western wear inside.
The Chamber of Commerce Casino Night was well attended. With it being standing room only, the noisy games and winning cheers made it hard to talk. Waiters carried hors d’oeuvre trays high over their heads, trying to navigate the crowd.
“I’ll grab us something to drink. What would you like?”
“Water with lemon will do.”
“Got it.” He left her next to the craps table.
When Matthew came back with their drinks, she was still standing, staring at the enthusiastic action at the table. “Ready to give it a go?”
She gave him a bewildered look. “Not at all. I have no idea how this works.”
“There’s a lot to it. Maybe we should stick to roulette.” He touched her elbow, and they walked across the room. “This will be way easier. We can play our favorite numbers. It’s for a good cause. Nothing to lose.”
“True.” They worked their way through the crowd to where they were selling the tickets. No cash was allowed at the tables. Blue tickets were the price of entry and the green tickets were the winning ones you turned in for prizes.
Matthew slid a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and bought a string of tickets, splitting them in two and giving her half. “Here we go.”
It was sweet of him to pony up for the tickets, since she’d actually invited him.
Three people had just stepped away from the roulette table. They wiggled into their places as the roulette ball went spinning around.
“No more bets,” the expressionless roulette guy announced.
The ball rolled into a slot, bouncing twice and settling in the one labeled seventeen.
“Black Seventeen.” He placed the crystal-topped dolly on top of the stack of blue tickets on that spot.
A woman wearing a bedazzled pink sweater and fringy boots jumped into the air.
The dealer swept away all the other tickets and then paid her out, exchanging her blue tickets for greens to use in the Winner’s Store full of prizes in all price ranges. There were even trips and jewelry.
“You ready?” Matthew tore off a few of his tickets.
She took ten. “My birthday is July 29th, so I’m going to play five on number seven and five tickets on twenty-nine.”
“Sounds like a good plan. I’ll do the same with my birthdate.”
They both placed their tickets in the blocks.
“No more bets.”
Whitney noticed he’d played the five and six. “June 5 or May 6?”
“My birthday? I don’t really celebrate it anymore, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Red Five.” The dealer planted the dolly on top of Matthew’s stack of tickets.
“Yes! I like the sound of that!” Matthew said.
She wasn’t sure if he meant he liked the sound of celebrating or winning, but either way, it was exciting. She grabbed his arm and clapped wildly.
They played a few more rounds, but people were beginning to push to get a place at the table and get in on the action, and she didn’t like feeling crushed.
She tapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s step outside. It’s too loud now.”
He looked thankful for the suggestion and let her lead him away from the table.
“My ears are ringing,” he said.
“Mine too. It’s wild in there. We’ll take our picture under the big balloon thing, then I’m fine if you’re ready to call it a night,” she said.
“I’m not ready to call it a night, just ready for maybe a quiet walk, or we could go back to my place and sit outside on the rooftop deck. The view is beautiful.”
“I’d like that.” She took a sip of water, and then they went inside for the obligatory picture.
“I”m not much of a gambler,” he admitted as they walked out.
“Me neither, but it’s for scholarships and that makes it feel worth taking the chance.”
“I guess you have to do a lot of stuff like this with the law firm sponsoring events and all.”
“I do my share. We have a lot of people at the firm, but because my father is the senior partner, William, Carina, and I have to attend so many. The obligation can make it lose some appeal.”
He drove them back to his apartment. When they walked into the lobby of his building, the old desk clerk beamed.
“Good night, Mr. McMahon.”
“He never calls me that,” he whispered to Whitney. “Good night, Jack.”
When they got in the elevator, Matthew whispered into her neck, his breath tickling her. “Wave at the camera,” he said, pointing to the corner of the elevator. “I guarantee Jack is watching.”
Whitney flashed her best smile and waved.
When the elevator doors opened, Matthew dropped his keys into a bowl on the table. “I think Jack was trying to impress you by calling me Mr. McMahon. He never addresses me that way. He’s known me since I had my first art show—and I’m not talking a gallery show. I’m talking a sidewalk art show.”
“That’s sweet. He must think a lot of you.”
“He’s a good guy. He’s had some tough breaks, but then haven’t we all?”
They walked outside and sat on the couch. She kicked off her boots and pulled her feet up underneath her. “If I lived here, I’d be out here every night.”
She looked good sitting there. I could get used to that. “Nicer with company, though.”
“I’m glad you suggested coming here tonight.”
“I wasn’t ready for the evening to be over, but I was really ready for Casino Night to be. It was a madhouse. They should’ve done quite well.”
She took in a long breath and rolled her shoulders. “It’s so much nicer out here.”
“Do you have big plans for the rest of the Memorial Day weekend?” he asked.
“Not really. Tomorrow is a free day for me, but Monday I’ll be over at my brother’s house. We have a big cookout for the extended family. It’s an annual thing.”
“That’ll be nice.”
For a half second, she thought to invite him, but it was way too soon for that. Even for friends, the blustery shenanigans of a Winters family Memorial Day celebration could be a lot for a newcomer to take. “What are you doing?”
“Getting together with some friends to help out on a project. I’ll be tied up with that the next couple of days.”
They sat talking and the conversation was so easy. Whitney pulled the decorative pillow from the corner of the couch and hugged it to her chest. “I’m enjoying getting to know you.”
“Same here.” He sat silent for a long moment and then traced his hand across the skyline view in front of them. “That right there. See the way the buildings are shaped, the shadows of the curve of the river even at night, and the trees behind all of that?”
“I do.”
“That’s the first thing I ever sketched.”
She turned and smiled. “You remember that?”
“Vividly.”
She imagined how someone would even start something like that. A series of lines? Hers would never end up looking like something recognizable. Art was like magic to her.
“My dad was an architect.” He lifted his hand, glancing at the college ring on his finger. “UVA guy as you’d noticed. He was a very well-known architect. A gifted one. At a very young age, he’d achieved things some go their entire careers without ever reaching.”
“He was gifted. Like you.”
“I think we used the same aptitude in different ways. He’d have really loved it if I’d studied architecture, but I’m not the desk type. I never finished college. Once I found the arts, I knew studying architecture wasn’t for me. I was inspired differently, but there were things about Dad’s work that I just devoured. I was less impressed with the actual building of things and how they were structured, but don’t get me wrong, he won awards. He built outstanding buildings, but I fawned over the renderings he’d sketched way more than visiting the final works.”
“I can see how that would be different. The aesthetics of it versus the mechanics.”
“Exactly. Dad worked at a drafting table for hours. Meticulous measurements and strategy went into every line. He was so precise. The drawings with the colors, landscaping, trees, that’s when they came to life for me.”
“Your artistic capabilities must’ve been born from his talents.”
“I like to think so,” Matthew said. “I was still learning then. I think he’d have been proud with what I’ve done. He was really supportive, always encouraging me in whatever interested me.”
“I wish I knew what that felt like. I’m always striving for my father’s approval. He’s so old-fashioned. I think he looks at whatever I’m doing as just a bonus since I’m a woman. I’d love for him to just one time praise me like he does my brother.”
“I’m sure he’s proud of you in his own way. Some people have trouble expressing those things. I think my dad made an extra effort since Mom left, and he was always trying to handle both roles.”
“That makes sense.” It made her feel better about the balance that Mom and Dad brought to her life too. “So your Dad worked right here in Richmond his whole life?”
“No. He designed commercial buildings across the country. He and Mom traveled and we moved a lot when I was little. Come to think of it, maybe when his life settled here is part of why Mom moved on. She wanted the thrill of the constant change.”
“I love being settled in one place. I can’t even imagine starting over somewhere else.”
“I’m with you. I’m thankful Dad got the job renovating Maymont. He loved working on the old buildings the most, and it was a big deal to be awarded that contract.”
“That’s where you get your appreciation of architecture, I take it. You know, I’ve never been over to Maymont.”
“Seriously? Let me be the one to take you. It’s my favorite place, and there are so many facets to it.” His excitement was palpable. “You’re going to love every square inch of it. Maymont was the last thing Dad worked on before he got injured.”
“What happened?”
“He fell two stories from improperly installed scaffolding. It nearly killed him. Spinal cord injury, concussion, punctured lung. He was in bad shape.”
“And yet, you climb those things to paint murals that sometimes people don’t even pay you to do? Please tell me you’re not one of those I must suffer for my art guys, because that sounds almost like a death wish.”
“No. I am absolutely not that guy. I’m very careful.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry about your dad. That had to be so hard for you and your mom.”
“Thank you. Yeah, well not for my mother. I haven’t seen her since she left.”
“Not even after your father passed away?”
“Never. I tried to look her up once, but she clearly didn’t want to be found. Probably for the best anyway.”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you.” She couldn’t imagine a mother leaving her child behind like that.
He shrugged. “It was a rough go for a while. Dad endured several surgeries and endless hours of rehabilitation. He worked hard to get well, but I knew it was killing him. The complications kept mounting, and the painkillers sedated him.”
“That’s a lot for a kid to handle.”
“But you know, it brought me to where I am. It was while he slept that I’d sit in a chair with a sketch pad in my lap, sketching the skyline over and over. He loved my drawings. We’d brainstorm ideas. In those moments, we were father and son and nothing else mattered.”
“I can’t even imagine losing both of your parents so young. My parents are still a huge part of my daily life. It’s a huge law firm, but my family’s roots are there. Mom practiced law, too, until she had my brother. Then she became a stay-at-home mom.”
“She didn’t want to go back into law? I mean, once you were out of school?”
“I think Dad really loved having her home, which is probably why she spent so much time redecorating the house once we moved out. It gave her something to do. William’s room became the library. Mine is a gym.”
“Sounds like they are making the space their own.”
“Right? It’s keeping them healthy. Mom’s sister is in real estate. She told her it was nuts to eliminate bedrooms by taking out the closets for the extra space, but Dad lets her do what makes her happy. It all works.”
“I like the way you look at the world, Whitney Winters.”
“I like your worldview too. The ones you paint, the one you enjoy outside your window, and the way you share them through your work. It’s nice.”
“I was serious about you letting me share Maymont with you. It was a really special place to my father, and I spent so many hours as a kid there. Do you think you can free some time on your schedule this Saturday?”
“I’ve got yoga with Carina and Olivia in the morning. We just started going back, so I don’t want to blow them off, but I’m free after that.”
He paused and then lifted his chin and asked, “Can we call it a date?” He looked hopeful.
“Maymont?” Her heart fluttered. “A date-date?”
“Mmhmm. Because the other nights have been sort of work-related.” He bumped his shoulder to hers. “This will be just for fun and to continue to get to know one another. What do you think? Next Saturday. You and me?”
It’s an entire week away, and I can’t wait.“I’d love to go on a date-date with you.”
Her heart pounded. It had been a long time since she’d gone on a date that had absolutely no work strings attached.