6. Excuses, Excuses
Chapter six
Excuses, Excuses
Maggie
Iwas so excited to get to the gallery that I couldn’t stop smiling, even though Easton hugged me again. Pulling away quickly, I tugged him along.
“What took you so long?” I asked, noticing that he’d snatched up my hand when I didn’t avoid it fast enough.
Easton scoffed. “Got held up in foot traffic outside that hillbilly bar. You know, the rooster place? I’ve walked this path often, but it’s never been so busy. They must be having an idiot convention with all those men wearing trucker hats.”
Rolling my eyes, I ignored his dig. In my experience, a trucker hat on the right man could be terribly sexy.
Like it always was on Paul.
“Come on,” I urged, tugging him again. “We’ll be late.”
But Easton was bigger than me and refused to be rushed.
Since he still had my hand, and it was a beautiful summer night, admittedly busier with foot traffic, I let him keep my hand on the way to the gallery only because it kept us from getting separated and he had the tickets.
I was almost out of patience, so I made him listen to me chatter about Karpathia along the way.
“Years ago, Uncle Isaac brought me to a gallery opening of hers. When I met her, all I could see was her wild red hair until she turned. Then, those brown eyes sparkled, as if she’d met me before, and she studied me with an artist’s eye,” I told him again.
Once she pronounced that she had a feeling about me, I’d worked for her every night that summer and quickly became one of her favorites. Ever since, she’d been pushing me to host my own photography event, but I wasn’t ready for that. I barely had time for my own art these days.
At the way I started the story again, he finally picked up the pace.
When we finally arrived at Strat Gallery, Easton opened the door and ushered me past the welcoming committee so I could get to the art.
He knew I wanted to see the new Karpathia pieces rather than pumping sweaty palms, so he stayed back to greet people while I went into the main gallery.
The moment I saw the lighting, my heart fluttered with anticipation.
And there they were.
I drew a sharp breath, but I don’t think I released it for another minute. The pieces were absolutely stunning. Breathtaking. Avant garde, but gorgeous in their organically original way. How did she manage to bring together two styles that should clash but instead were so thought-provoking?
A hand on my arm startled me.
With a gasp, I saw the red curls and instantly embraced the woman at my side. “Oh, Kar! These are just –” but I couldn’t continue.
“I’m thrilled they leave you without words. You know that’s always my goal.”
Together, we stood with linked arms, staring at what she’d created. There were absolutely no words to describe how incredible her display was. I pressed my hand to my chest, stunned by what she’d created.
“Stunning, Kar. Truly stunning,” I whispered.
In that moment, there was only us and these gorgeous works of art.
After I’d absorbed as much as I could, my head fell to her shoulder.
“Come now, we’ll take a break,” she offered, leading me to a refreshments table. After she handed me a cocktail, she clinked her glass against mine and signaled for me to drink. “Now, where are yours going to be hung? It’s time for me to see your show.”
I lifted my hand to my lips, forcing myself to swallow the cocktail. “No. Oh, I couldn’t. How could I ever show my photographs when you bring something like that into the world?”
With a little growl, she leaned toward me. “No comparisons, cher. We’ve talked about this. Art is art. There are no comparisons. Just different art. And I want to see yours on a wall.”
Lowering my gaze, I couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’ve just been so busy at work.”
“Enough excuses.”
When my eyes rose, she looked like an Irish goddess with fiery eyes and an aura of light behind her. Well, it was the spotlight for her collection, but it had the same effect.
“You’re right. Rule number one, there’s always time for art,” I recited from years of hearing her quote her rules to live by. “I have a few shots that I’d like your opinion on as soon as I work some editing magic. Could I give you a call next week?”
Raising an eyebrow, she seemed skeptical. “You’re putting me off. There’s no time like the present.”
I gently placed my hand on her arm. “There is no putting you off, Kar. Just let me clean them up first.”
Shaking her head, she gave me a hesitant grimace.
“No, I can’t let this go. I’m doing this for your own good, you know.
You’re an artist. You should have your own gallery filled with your art for sale.
There’s so much talent in you and art that’s meant to be shared.
You seem to have stalled due to some sort of emotional block. ”
Nodding, my throat was too full of emotion to reply.
Art was what drove me to keep going as a child, what brought me to this city, and while I should have been turning to it in the hard times, I focused solely on commercial art.
I’d turned my back on what I loved most. What was I doing?
Losing Paul and my parents had been a blow, but I had to get back on track again.
Was Karpathia right? Should I show her the photos?
When she pulled back, her brow furrowed. “You need some space to think.” Glancing around, she nodded to the stairs. “Let me show you somewhere that you can collect your thoughts. Follow these stairs.”
Pointing to the back corner, she sent me for some self-reflection. Up the stairs, I found a separate viewing area for VIPs that transcended the chaos. It allowed me to appreciate her work from a new perspective. I was fascinated, enraptured. And it made me question everything.