by Regina Duke
“Of course it’s good,” said Taylor. “I mean, in the over all scheme of things, it’ll be great. But you were here last night. You saw some of what it does to her.”
“Yeah, I did. Poor Thor.”
Taylor made a disgusted noise. “Thor? All he has to do is be supportive. But Ashley worries about things.”
Bart made appropriate noises of interest as Taylor talked, deciding he’d skip Il Vaccaro for something a bit lighter. When the elevator reached the lobby, he turned toward the coffee shop.
Taylor was winding down. “Some day when you get married, just keep in mind, that carrying a baby is hard work. Knowing she has your support will make a huge difference.”
“Hang on there,” said Bart, pausing before entering the coffee shop! “Make a difference to who?”
“Your wife, silly. When you get married.”
“When I get married? What’s all this about? Are you and Don plotting behind my back? Can’t stand for me to be single while you two are bound up in the chains of matrimony?” He was grinning when he finished. Zinnia and Rose were headed in his direction from the gift shop across from the coffee shop. The sight of Zin’s smile softened the tone of the word “matrimony.” After all, there was something to be said for the idea of waking up to that face every morning. “Thanks for the update, Taylor. I have to go. My dinner dates are here.”
He hung up before Taylor could question his choice of words.
“Wait until you see what we picked out for Ashley,” said Zinnia, clearly pleased with herself.
“I’m headed in here for dinner,” said Bart. “Want to join me?”
“Sure,” said Zinnia. “Maybe for dessert?” She looked a question at Rose.
“Sounds good,” said Rose. “I feel like I’m on vacation, staying at the hotel and everything. Sure, I’ll have some dessert. I saw cheesecake on the menu when we came here for burgers.”
Bart was a wee bit disappointed that it wouldn’t be just himself and Zinnia. But then, Rose was her best friend, so maybe it was a good thing to get her input about his plans. She was, after all, the only other person around who seemed to have faith in Zinnia’s talent. He led the way to a booth along the wall. Zinnia and Rose slid onto the bench opposite him.
Zinnia was already lifting something out of a bag. “Isn’t this adorable?”
It was a yellow onesie with a dancing Snoopy on it. “We picked yellow because we don’t know what sex the baby is yet.”
Bart nodded. “Very cute. Um, she’s not even showing yet. Isn’t it a bit early to be buying baby clothes?”
Rose and Zinnia looked at each other and laughed. Rose said, “You’re such a ‘guy’. It’s never too early to buy baby clothes.”
The waitress arrived, and he had to tolerate another three minutes of sharing and admiring the onesie. He suppressed a smile as he realized he wouldn’t even know that word if Taylor hadn’t had a baby. And little Jack was as cute as he could be. Maybe there were hidden rewards to being a father. Maybe, with the right woman, a baby wouldn’t be too bad. The girls were thrilled over the news of a new addition. Rose was right. He was a total guy because it all seemed premature to him.
He ordered his dinner, and Rose asked for cheesecake. “Zinnia? What would you like?”
“A chocolate sundae.”
“Good choice.”
Once the waitress left, Rose popped out of the booth. “Little girls’ room,” she announced as she headed for the restroom.
Alone with Zinnia for a few short moments, Bart said, “I have something important to discuss with you, but I didn’t want to bring it up in front of Rose. It’s about an opportunity to advance your career.”
“Gee, those words sound so good together,” said Zinnia, starry-eyed. “Advance my career. But you can talk in front of Rose. She’s my best friend, and I’d tell her everything anyway, once we get back to our room. Sorry. Suite.” She giggled.
Rose returned much more quickly than he’d expected. “Okay, then,” he said as she rejoined them. “I have a proposition for you to consider.” He hoped Rose wouldn’t try to talk Zinnia out of it. “In a couple of weeks, I have to be in New York to get ready for an exhibit of my work. Zin, I’d like to take you with me and show off your talent. We have two weeks to increase your portfolio. In addition, considering your special talents, I would really love to take you back east and give you a chance to show everyone what you can do. What do you think?”
To his surprise, Rose was instantly enthusiastic. “That would be so cool, Zin! An introduction to the New York art scene? Awesome!”
Zinnia, however, looked strained. “I’m grateful for the offer,” she said. “But with Ashley pregnant, she’s going to need me more than ever. I don’t think I should leave her in the lurch. I’m sorry, but I have to say no.”
* * *
Conversation stopped for a moment when their food arrived, but Zinnia couldn’t enjoy her sundae. She hoped her loyalty to Ashley wouldn’t mean the end of her temporary position with Bart. By the time the words had left her mouth, she started second-guessing herself. And there was no doubt at all about Rose’s opinion.
“Zin! You can’t be serious. This is the chance of a lifetime!”
Zinnia sputtered, “What would I ever wear in New York?”
Bart seemed amused by that question. “Whatever you like. You’re an artist, remember?”
Zinnia looked from one to the other, then deflated against the back of the booth. “I think I’m scared,” she mumbled.
Bart looked confused, but Rose understood at once. “Change is scary,” she said, “but if you want to pursue your dreams, you have to risk something. I think an art career is worth a risk. Besides, Bart is offering to be your mentor. Don’t turn your back on a chance like this.”
Zinnia straightened up. “Rose is right,” she said softly. “Maybe I just need to sleep on it.”
Bart nodded. “Good idea. Meanwhile, what if I promise that Ashley will have a replacement before we go?”
“That would make me feel better about leaving,” said Zinnia cautiously. Then she averted her eyes, afraid Bart might read in them what she was truly worried about.
Silence stretched into three heartbeats before the light appeared to dawn for Bart. “Oh! Hey, I know. What if we take Rose along? That way, you can share it all with your BFF.”
Zinnia thrilled at the suggestion. “Really? Oh, that would be perfect! Rose? Please say yes.”
Rose’s expression made it clear that she loved the idea, but then her face fell.
“I just got hired back at the bookstore,” she moaned. “I need that job.”
Zinnia pulled four hundred and fifty dollars out of her purse. “Here. I’ll sell more art. Right, Bart?”
Bart smiled and settled his arms along the back of the booth. “Excellent thinking.” How about it, Rose? You’re the one who says we have to take risks.”
Rose looked like she might burst with excitement. “Okay, I’ll do it! But put your money away, Zin.” She had a sudden thought. “How will I pay for airfare?”
“That’s on me,” said Bart. “It was my idea, so I’ll cover airfare and hotels.”
Rose frowned at him out of the corner of one eye. “In exchange for…?”
“Rose!” Zinnia snapped, horrified.
Bart took it in stride. “In exchange for the pleasure of seeing Zinnia make a huge splashy entrance in the art world. By the way, I had a long talk with Woodsy and threatened severe consequences if she ever sends me another crazy text.”
Rose softened. “How severe?”
Bart teased, “I’d tell you, but then you’d be afraid to travel with me.”
Zinnia rubbed her hands together. “Should I be painting or using my pastels? Gee whiz, I’m all tingly.”
“We’ll both be working until we leave,” said Bart. “I’m itching to paint some landscapes.”
Rose said, “I’m confused. I thought the big sales you made were finger paintings.”
/> Zinnia giggled. “He was kidding,” she said. Then a moment later, “Right, Bart?”
“They felt like finger painting,” he said. “But I used brushes and acrylics. I love doing landscapes and you have some gorgeous scenery around here. If nothing else, I’ll ask Ashley to sell them on commission for me.”
“Oh, darn. We didn’t get to show her my work today.”
“If she’s at the gallery in the morning, we’ll do it then.” Bart glanced at his phone. “It’s almost nine o’clock. Where do people go dancing around here?”
Rose begged off. “I’m still working at the bookstore and I need to get some sleep. But you two can go.”
“I’m still working at the gallery,” said Zinnia, “and I have a ton of ideas I want to jot down before I forget them.” She gave Bart a flirtatious smile. “I’ll take a raincheck though.”
Bart chuckled. “Well, at least I can walk you to your suite.”
The girls talked non-stop all the way up the elevator. Zinnia was so excited, she toyed with the idea of changing her mind and going dancing. But that thought fled when the elevator doors opened and she saw what waited for them at the door of their suite.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rose moaned, “Dear God.” Zinnia put an arm around her friend and murmured, “Oh Rose, I’m so sorry.”
Sprawled against the door of their suite was a barely conscious Chester, pocketknife in one hand, nearly empty bottle of whisky in the other. When he saw Rose, he pointed accusingly with the pocket knife.
“Your fault! I love you, Rose.” That was all he seemed capable of saying at the moment, so he lowered the knife.
Zinnia stopped Rose from running to his side. She said quietly, “He’s drunk out of his mind, he has a knife, and he blames you now, as well as me. All good reasons for keeping your distance.”
Bart agreed. “Stay here. I’ll take a look.” He walked up to Chester and paused, his attention drawn to the door itself. A moment later, he nudged the bottom of Chester’s boot with the toe of his shoe. “Hey! Wake up!”
Chester lifted his head with an effort. “What?” His voice was stuck on the loud setting. “You?!”
“Yes, me.” Bart waved a hand at the door. “I suppose you’re responsible for this?”
“What?”
Bart shook his head and returned to the girls. “Zinnia, take Rose to the lobby and tell hotel security there is a problem in front of your door.”
Zinnia nodded, turned Rose around, and punched the call button. On their way down, Rose said glumly, “Do you think we can leave early for New York?”
An hour later, Chester was gone, Bart was discussing matters with the head of security, and Rose was staring aghast at the crude words carved into the wooden door. Zinnia stood quietly at her side, pointedly looking away.
Bart approached. “Security is going to cover this for tonight. Tomorrow, they’ll replace the door. Do you want them to move you to another suite? They’ll have one available tomorrow.”
Rose shook her head in disgust. “It’s okay. We won’t have to look at it from inside. What a jerk. He carved up this door as if we were at a Motel Six. He could have had a little more class, don’t you think?”
Zinnia nodded somberly. “Most definitely. No respect for the dignity of the Cattleman’s.”
Bart frowned from one to the other. “You two are joking, right?”
Zinnia shrugged. “Not entirely. Did they call the police?”
“They will if I give the word. What does Rose want?”
It was clear that Rose had no clue about what she wanted.
“Okay,” said Bart. “I’ll pay for the door. And I’ll tell security to call whoever they normally call for drunk and disorderly.”
Rose nodded numbly.
Zinnia slid her door card carefully, as if some of the filth carved into the door might rub off on her.
Bart patted her on the back. “Take her inside. Try to calm her down.”
Rose snapped, “I’m calm!” Then she said quietly, “I’m numb and devastated and calm. Let’s go in and plan my revenge.”
Zinnia wiggled her fingers in farewell to Bart. “See you tomorrow?”
“Bright and early. Hopefully Ashley will be there tomorrow.”
Once inside, Rose went straight to the sofa, lay down on her back, and pulled a throw pillow over her face.
“Drama therapy?” asked Zinnia.
A muffled, “No.” Nuhn-uhn.
“Need company?
“No.” Nuhn-unh.
“Okay. I’ll be in the bedroom.”
“Kay.”
“If you need me…”
“Got it.” Goddut.
Zinnia felt helpless. She retreated into the bedroom, slipped her earbuds in and pulled a sketch book out of her purse. She opened the gift book from San Francisco and began practicing Chinese characters. Lost in her comfort zone, she didn’t realize she was singing along with the iPod until Rose’s voice startled her from the doorway.
“Wow, you know all the words.”
“Rose! Are you feeling better?”
Rose shrugged. “At least I’m more in control,” she said gloomily. She approached and sat on the edge of the bed. The sight of the gift book made her smile. “I gave you that book way back in eighth grade, and you’re still thumbing through it. So cool. How fast are you now?”
Zinnia was happy to take Rose’s mind off her troubles. “Pick one and I’ll sketch it,” she said.
Rose flipped to an arbitrary page and tapped on the symbols there. Then she pulled her phone out and found the stopwatch. “Ready? Set? Go!”
Zinnia started at the upper left corner of the sketch pad and moved her nub of red pastel so quickly, it looked and felt like an extension of her fingertips. A few seconds later she’d reached the lower right corner. “Done.”
Rose tapped the screen of her phone. “Four seconds! That’s a new record.”
Zinnia smiled. A moment later, she said softly, “I’m really sorry Chester turned out to be a jerk. I thought you said he doesn’t drink?”
“He never has, at least not in my presence.” She shook her head sadly. “I didn’t mean to ruin his life. Maybe I should—”
“No!” Zinnia was firm. “He may be feeling rejected and acting out, but you have the right to determine your own destiny. Now come sit with me, and we’ll find a movie to watch.”
“Work tomorrow,” muttered Rose.
“No problem. You always fall asleep thirty minutes in. Now pick a channel.”
“Yes, master,” Rose cracked. “What do I do if Chester shows up at work tomorrow?”
“Call the gallery. I’ll come rescue you,” said Zinnia, making a noble yet risible attempt at imitating Rocket J. Squirrel. “Hey! You laughed! My work here is done.”
And she was correct. Half an hour later, Rose was sound asleep. Zinnia turned to a new page in her sketch book and let her mind drift as she reproduced Bart’s smile on the paper.
* * *
Bart was happy to see Ashley at the Gallery the next day. It was an hour before he could get her attention away from the work she’d not done the day before. But finally she emerged from her office, looking wan and tired, to ask, “Okay, Bart. What did you want to show me?”
Bart had spent the hour placing work from Zinnia’s portfolio on easels and shelves around the room. He waved an arm like a game show host. “You have an incredibly talented artist right here in your Gallery. I thought you might find a place for some of her work here.” He stood back and let Ashley move up and down the aisle, examining Zinnia’s work.
She began with a droop and a sigh, but by the time she was half way down the aisle, she wore an expression of wonder and confusion. “Zinnia? Why didn’t you ever show me your work before?”
Zinnia started to speak, but Bart jumped in. “She has a unique technique which has resulted in her being shamed and ridiculed since her earliest art classes. Considering how much she admires you, she probably didn’
t want to take a chance that you would also laugh at her efforts.”
“Laugh? Oh my God, Zinnia, these portraits are amazing! And the canvases...Whose idea was it to paint donuts?”
“We were eating them but we needed a subject for practicing brush technique,” said Bart. “She already sold one to The Muffin Man.”
Ashley turned toward the front counter. “Zin? I never saw you do anything but sketch in your little book. I mean, I know you bought art supplies here, but I had no idea you were so talented.”
Zinnia blushed. “Thank you, Ashley. It’s kind of overwhelming to hear people say that.”
“What? Did this happen overnight? Did you have a head injury and wake up a savant, like that piano guy?”
Zinnia shook her head. “No, I’ve been drawing and doing art since I was little. Of course, back then, it wasn’t art, exactly. I guess we all scribble before we paint.” Her voice trailed off.
Ashley lifted a brow and pinned Bart with a suspicious stare. “And what do you have to do with all this?” Her tone wasn’t pleasant.
Bart was taken aback. After a second of hesitation, he assumed a teasing posture and wagged a finger at Ashley. “You don’t like me very much, do you? I know, I know, you tried to be all gushy and pleasant from day one...”
Zinnia giggled.
“...but it was all an act. Deep down, you think I’m dirt. Come on, admit it.”
Ashley couldn’t help but smile. “You aren’t making it easy, you know. I mean, the least you could do is get snippy and mean about it.” She lifted both palms and patted the air. “Okay, I admit I haven’t been very welcoming.”
“Are you mad at my sister or something?” His eyes widened, and he jabbed the air with a finger. “Or are you jealous of my success?” He’d put a humorous spin on the accusation, but he could tell immediately that he’d hit the nail on the head. He bit his bottom lip and wished he could take it back, but too late.
Ashley’s mood soured for a moment. Then she leaned against the counter as if standing up was too much effort. “Bart, would you bring me a chair?”
