Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
A manda’s fingers trembled slightly as she arranged the items for the art show, wishing she could be doing this at the actual pavilion. There she could spread them out more artistically in the groupings Connor had come up with, to better highlight their artistry. But this cramped room in city hall would have to work for now.
The door swung open, and a woman strode into the room dressed in a flowing skirt and silk blouse, her steps confident as if she owned the room. Extending a perfectly manicured hand, she introduced herself, “Desiree Knight.”
“Miss Knight, nice to meet you. I’m Amanda Kingston, the event coordinator.”
“I was a bit surprised at how difficult it was to get here. Needed to take the ferry. I see they are building a bridge. That will make the trip to the island much more manageable.” Desiree swept her gaze around the room with a look of distaste. “This is where you’re doing the show?”
“Oh, no.” She rushed to explain with an apologetic smile. “We’re having it at the big open-air pavilion. It will be the perfect place to display the artwork. This is just where I’ve been staging the show to keep the items protected. I’ll set it all up at the pavilion when the festival begins.”
“I see.” She took a measured step forward, her heels clicking on the tile. She tilted her head, scrutinizing one of the paintings resting on an easel. “Ah, a Heather Parker illustration. Her art is simple and has a nostalgic tone to it.”
Amanda couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or a subtle critique. “So what paper did you say you were from?”
Desiree waved a dismissive hand. “I write for many papers. Freelance. This is for an article on small, regional art shows. Hoping to get a good placement for the article. I’m going this weekend to a festival in Naples. Quite a large one.”
Sensing a hint of condescension, she raised her chin. “Ours isn’t that large, but we do have some excellent quality work.”
“Hm,” Desiree answered noncommittally.
The woman wandered around, looking at the items with a discerning eye. Her face was a mask of neutrality. A knot of nerves tightened in Amanda’s stomach as the woman looked at each item and took a few notes in a sleek leather notebook, her expensive fountain pen scrawling across the page.
Desiree picked up Connor’s woodcarving and turned it this way and that, frowning with perfectly arched eyebrows. She put it back down on the table and turned away without writing a note.
“That’s lovely work, isn’t it?” Amanda interrupted. “He’s a local and very talented.”
Desiree turned to her. “I suppose for local talent, all these items are reasonably well-crafted. To be quite honest, I’m not sure what I was expecting from these regional art shows. I’m used to doing reviews for some bigger showings in New York and Los Angeles. Also covered a large one in Taos. Those tend to attract artists from all over the country.”
“Well, our Heritage Festival aims to celebrate the island’s rich history and focus on the incredible talent of our local artists.”
“Yes, I can see how such a quaint idea would hold appeal for the local community.” Desiree flipped her notebook closed with a decisive snap. “I do appreciate having the chance to prescreen the art since I’ll be at another, larger show the weekend of your festival.”
“I’m glad you could come and see the work of our talented artists.” Amanda guided Desiree out of the room and to the front door of city hall.
Desiree glanced at her watch. “Oh good, if I hurry, I can catch this next ferry back to the mainland. Good luck with that bridge. I hope it gets finished soon for the sake of all of you stuck on the island.”
Amanda watched the woman walk away and a sinking feeling began in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure she was going to like the article the woman wrote. She seemed singularly unimpressed with any piece of art and unable to see the heart and soul the artists had poured into each piece.
If it was merely a freelance piece, perhaps the woman wouldn’t even secure an offer to publish the article. Amanda could only hope. She headed down the sidewalk, her sensible flats scuffing against the concrete as she made her way back toward her cozy cottage.
She couldn’t worry about the article now. She had things to do. And she didn’t care if some stuffy city woman wasn’t impressed with their festival. It was going to be a fabulous event, and all she wanted was for everyone to enjoy it. Especially all the townspeople who had finally come around to accepting her and appreciating her hard work organizing everything.