She thought to call information for her old address in Hanover Falls, but she didn’t know the name of the people who lived there. Besides she remembered the Realtor saying it had been purchased as a rental. She didn’t remember the owner’s name—if she’d ever known it. That time was a blur in her memory. All the paperwork on the sale of the house had come in the mail shortly after the baby was born and she’d put it in her safety deposit box without even glancing over it. Judy Benton had signed everything in her absence. But the realty office was closed today. She dialed Judy’s cell, but it went straight to voicemail.
Olivia hated to call her at home on the weekend. But she wasn’t sure her curiosity could wait until Monday.
Chapter 40
Olivia gathered with the artists clustered at the checkout table, a motley crew that ran the gamut from goateed beatnik to gray-haired octogenarian to sophisticated businessman in a Brooks Brothers suit.
It had been an interminably long weekend with no return phone call from Judy.
Now, with her portrait of Jon tucked under one arm, Olivia rubbed the edge of her claim check until it was frayed, and paced three steps in either direction, holding her place in queue to check out.
Her cows were still hanging on the display panel at the end of the exhibition gallery. They seemed to be welcoming her, and for the first time, she felt a twinge of regret over leaving them at the house. But it was too late now. And they’d brought her three hundred and fifty dollars! The money was much needed, but she felt funny about having the check come to her when she didn’t even know who had entered the piece. Even if they’d intended her to have the check, she ought to at least reimburse them for the entry fee.
She was beginning to suspect Judy Benton herself. The Realtor knew Olivia had left it at the house intentionally and had seemed to admire it. She couldn’t imagine why she would have entered it in this show, designating any prize money to go back to Olivia. It didn’t make sense.
Judy had known Olivia was in a difficult situation, and she had been very warm and caring, helping Olivia through the complicated transaction long-distance. But entering art shows wasn’t exactly the type of perk Realtors were known for—even really exceptional ones.
The queue moved along at an inchworm’s pace. Olivia checked her watch. Her babysitter, Mrs. Markham, had agreed to keep Jonathan until six o’clock, but it would take a good half hour to get to the Markham’s house, and she didn’t want to come home on the train with a baby after dark.
Her turn came and she signed for her painting. Now to hang out and appear unobtrusive until her mysterious benefactor showed up.
Olivia watched the doors, scrutinizing each new face that came through. Was this the person who would pick up her painting? But she watched with another motive as well.
Reed Vincent had work in this show. During the months she had worked for him, he usually shipped contest art to the show and paid to have the pieces returned, but what if he showed up here today? It wasn’t likely, but even so, the thought terrified her—and sent a little thrill through her at the same time.
Reed’s painting was still hanging on the display panel, but it had a purchase award sticker on it, so it most likely would be picked up by the buyer.
At four-fifteen her cows were still hanging and she started to feel foolish lying in wait this way. What did it matter who’d ended up with her painting? Her curiosity would probably only get her in trouble.
She rose to leave. But just then, a new flurry of people entered the building. She studied faces as they came in and kept an eye on the panel where her painting hung.
Moments later, a middle-aged man wearing a black turtleneck and matching stocking cap came through the doors. A graying ponytail protruded from the back of the cap. At first, she thought he was just a last-minute peruser of the show, but it soon became apparent that he was searching for a particular piece. She held her breath as he rounded the aisle where her cows hung.
He stopped in his tracks in front of the painting, then immediately went to work dismounting it from the pegboard panel.
Who was he? Judy’s Benton’s husband, maybe? Judy had spoken of a husband, but Olivia had never met him. Well, maybe now was the time. She gathered her things, tucked the smaller painting under her arm and crossed the room to speak with the man.
He had propped the cows against the base of the display and was taking down another frame adjacent to it. Olivia stopped short. Maybe the guy worked for the gallery and was just helping disassemble the show. But then he wouldn’t have come in from outdoors that way.
He must be a dealer. The man shucked his jacket and peeled off the stocking cap, wiping his brow with a handkerchief from his pocket. When he turned toward the windows, sans cap, Olivia realized she knew him.
His name escaped her, but he was the owner of one of the galleries that carried Reed’s work. Reed had introduced them. Garret or Garth…something like that.
She started toward him, but suddenly realized she didn’t have a clue what she would say. She didn’t need to worry about that, though, because he spotted her first. Recognition lit his eyes.
“Hi there.” He leaned a frame against the panel and started toward her, hand outstretched. “Gavin Chambers. You work for Reed Vincent, right?”
“I used to.”
“Forgive me, I’m terrible with names.”
“Olivia,” she said, smiling and shaking his hand. “Olivia Cline.”
He did a double take. “Olivia Cline… Isn’t that…?” He turned back to glance at the cows, then scratched his head. “That Olivia Cline?”
Smiling, she nodded. “I’m really curious how you got my piece.”
He seemed surprised. “I’m picking it up for Reed, actually. He said it was done by a friend, a really promising artist…” He stuck out his hand again. “He was right, by the way. Congratulations on the award.”
“Oh… well, thanks.” Once again, she took his hand, dipping her head. Her mind swirled with the news that Reed was the one who’d entered her work.
Gavin pointed back to her painting. “Do you want to just take it back with you? Or are you flying?”
“Oh… No. I live here in Chicago now.”
“Is that right? I didn’t realize… Well, then I’ll just send the piece with you now, if that’s okay. Save Reed having to ship it back to you.”
Her mind raced. “Um…I think Reed owns the piece. Apparently.” This was all getting very confusing. Had Judy sold the painting to Reed?
“Oh, well, that’s different,” Gavin said. “Then we’ll just go with plan A.”
“How…how is he? Reed, I mean?”
“He’s doing great. Can’t paint fast enough to suit me, of course.” He brightened. “I’m meeting him for dinner in half an hour. Why don’t you come? I’m sure he’d be delighted to see you.”
She held back a gasp. “He’s in town?”
“Should have landed—” Gavin tapped his watch. “—about an hour ago. He’d better have a boatload of art with him, too.” He looked down at the painting she still carried. “Are you checked out? Can I wrap that for you?”
“Yes, but, I don’t—” She could be face to face with Reed just a few minutes from now. Suddenly the idea elated her. “On second thought, I’d love to go.” She checked the time. She had less than two hours before she needed to pick up the baby. “I can’t stay for dinner, but I’ll have coffee.”
“Wonderful. And maybe you and Mr. Vincent can discuss who those beautiful bovines actually belong to.”
A smile pulled at her mouth. That would be interesting.
Chapter 41
The backseat of the cab smelled of gasoline and stale cigarette smoke and Olivia’s nerves tangled tighter with every block. Gavin chattered away about the art business, but she had no heart for it now. She was actually minutes from standing in front of Reed. Looking into his eyes again. And she was second-guessing herself every mile of the way.
What had she been thinking? She
couldn’t just walk up to him like nothing had happened between them. They’d never even said a proper goodbye. But maybe that’s what this was all about for her. That word psychologists the world over seemed so fond of: closure. But as Chicago’s skyline towered over them and the jumble of thoughts in her brain started to sort itself out, she realized that it was more than that. Far more.
“Reservation for Chambers?” Gavin leaned over the hostess stand. “There’ll be one more in our party. He may already be here.”
Olivia panned the restaurant. And suddenly, there he was. Bent over a table by the window, studying the menu, holding it close. Alarm streaked through her. Were his eyes worse? But then he laid the folder on the table and continued to read. She released her breath, but her heart was thumping like a timpani.
Gavin followed her gaze. “Oh, there he is.” He started over to the table, but Olivia grabbed his coat sleeve. “I’ll be with you in a minute. I want to…freshen up.”
“Sure. Can I order you a drink?”
“No. Thank you. And please…don’t tell Reed I’m here. I want to surprise him.”
“Women!” He shook his head, laughing. “Always love a surprise, don’t you? You go on. I’ll save you a place.”
Olivia found the restrooms and unbuttoned her coat. She dug in her purse for lipstick and a hairbrush. She stared at her reflection, trying to think what she could possibly say to Reed that would make everything all right, that would give her closure.
Listen to yourself, Liv. Do you really want everything to be all right? What happened to “I can’t bear to look at him every day? To look into his eyes…?” She pushed her palms on the counter, steadying herself. Why was she doing this? Why would she subject herself to the very thing that had brought her so much angst? It wasn’t too late to just leave. Gavin could tell Reed whatever he wanted. It didn’t matter.
Besides, she was due to pick the baby up in a little over an hour. There was no way she could possibly say everything she needed to say to Reed in one hour. Especially not with Gavin Chambers chaperoning them. Better to let sleeping dogs lie. Wasn’t it?
She bent over the sink for a minute, collecting herself. Then she straightened and buttoned her coat. With a sigh, she slung her purse over her shoulder, gathered the painting under her arm and walked out the door.
Reed looked up to see Gavin Chambers coming toward him. “Hey, there you are.” He pushed back his chair and extended a hand. Gavin’s hands were like ice. “Cold enough out there for you?”
“Aw, I’m used to it,” Gavin said. “How was your flight?”
“The plane went up and came back down. I’m always pretty happy if that’s all there is to tell.”
Gavin laughed. “I hear you. Have you ordered yet?”
“No. I had a snack in the airport, so I’m not very hungry. But you go ahead.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I will.” Gavin pored over the menu.
“How was the show?”
“It was a nice show. You won a purchase award, you know. And your friend’s oil was an honorable mention.”
“Really?” He tried to appear disinterested, but in truth, he wanted to cheer. He’d had a feeling her piece might do well with this particular juror. He wished she’d won the big money, but he’d done it as much for the encouragement as for the prize.
Gavin looked up from the menu. “She does nice work. I might be interested in representing her.”
“I’m not sure she’s working any more. But I can give you her contact information if you’d like.” He was getting in deep waters here. Olivia didn’t even know he had the painting and here he was connecting her with a gallery.
The server came to their table and Gavin waved him off. “Give us a few minutes, could you?”
Reed put up a hand. “Don’t wait on me. Order whatever you want. I’d just like a salad. And some coffee, please.”
Gavin spent several minutes with the menu. He kept glancing toward the entrance like he was expecting someone else. Finally he ordered a filet.
When the server left, Gavin gave Reed more details about the show—who his competition had been, some of the new techniques that were being tried. “You haven’t done any of those still lifes you were talking about yet, have you?” Mid-sentence, his eyes strayed over Reed’s head.
Reed turned slightly to his left to see what had caught Gavin’s attention.
A familiar voice spoke close to his ear. “Coffee on your right.”
Olivia? He turned to see a cup of steaming coffee sitting on a large saucer in front of him. Thinking his imagination had gone into overdrive—as it frequently did where Olivia was concerned—he looked up and muttered his thanks to the server.
Olivia stood by his chair, close enough to touch. Smiling.
“Olivia?” He looked to Gavin who was smiling, then back to Olivia. Locking eyes with her, he scraped his chair back, losing his napkin to the floor. “What…what are you doing here?” he sputtered.
“I should ask you the same.” Her laughter was thready. She looked nervous. She looked beautiful. She was slim and elegant in a navy sheath. Her hair was longer, blond tendrils framing her face. He couldn’t help it. He opened his arms to hug her.
She walked into his embrace. “Hi Reed,” she whispered against his jacket.
She stepped away and he turned to Gavin. “Gavin, you remember Olivia?”
“Remember her?” He chortled. “I brought her.”
Reed looked from Olivia to Gavin and back. “What’s going on?”
Gavin explained their meeting in the exhibition hall. “Seems you have some ’splainin’ to do, Mr. Vincent.”
Reed turned to Olivia, his face hot, his tongue tucked into his cheek. “I can explain, Olivia.”
Gavin apparently realized that the issues between them were a little more serious than he’d treated them. He rose from his chair and dropped his napkin on the table. “Tell you what… Seems like you two have a lot to catch up on. Why don’t you split my steak dinner and, Reed, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Oh, no… Please…” Olivia looked chagrined.
Reed joined her protests, but he could have hugged Gavin. They said goodbyes over further protests, but the gallery owner insisted.
When he’d disappeared into the street, Reed turned to Olivia. “You look great. City life must agree with you.” He could have bit his tongue. Why would he encourage her about her move back to Chicago? He hated that she’d left the Falls.
“Thanks. So do you.” She toyed with the back of the chair.
“Here… Have a seat.” He pulled out a chair for her. “Gavin’s dinner will be here any minute.”
Her musical laughter broke the ice and she seemed to relax a little.
“I really can’t stay but a few minutes, Reed. I have to pick up my son from the babysitter in just a little while.”
“You had a son. Claire called me…a couple days after he was born. Congratulations. Let’s see… How old is he now?”
“He turned two months last week.” She beamed.
“Wow. Two months already. Amazing.” Had it been that long? No wonder he’d missed her so much.
She seemed happy. He was glad… or he wanted to be, wanted to be happy for her, even though she’d started a new life that had nothing to do with him.
“Claire said you were back at your old job?”
“That’s right.”
“You like it?”
She thought for a minute. “I do. It’s hard being away from Jon so much.”
“Jon?”
“Jonathan…my son.”
“Oh…of course.” He almost laughed with relief. For one crazy second, he’d thought she was referring to another man. Brother! Nothing had changed. He had it bad for this woman.
The waiter brought Gavin’s steak and Reed explained the situation. “And could you bring an extra plate?” Reed asked. “And another coffee, please.” He turned to her. “Still decaf?”
“Oh, no.” She laughed. “I’ll t
ake the fully-leaded stuff, please. But I really can’t stay long, Reed. I should have left five minutes ago, to be honest.”
“Can you call the sitter?”
She shook her head. “I really shouldn’t. I…I do that too often as it is.”
“Long hours?” Was she just making excuses? He couldn’t tell.
“Not more than forty. It’s just…it’s hard, trying to keep up with work and be a good mom, too. But I’m not complaining. I’m grateful to have the job.” She twisted her linen napkin into a rope and gave a half-hearted smile. “So how have you been?”
“I’m good,” he lied. Except, now that he was with her, maybe he was good.
“Gavin said your work is still selling like hotcakes.”
He shrugged. “I guess. I have no complaints either.”
She looked at her watch again, then glanced out the window. “Oh, Reed. It’s almost dark. I really do need to go pick up the baby.”
He tried to read her. Was she having second thoughts about having come here, or was that true regret he saw in her face. He didn’t want to push her. “Do you need a ride? I could take you to get the baby. I…I’d love to see him,” he risked.
She seemed to ponder that, then brightened. “You’re sure you have time?”
He grinned. “Well, I was supposed to have a dinner appointment with Gavin Chambers, but apparently, he, um…stood me up.”
She giggled.
He pushed back his plate. “Let me ask our server to box up this food. You can take it home. I ate a bit at the airport… I’m honestly not hungry.”
“While you do that, I’ll get my coat and package from the maitre d’.”
They met at the front door a few minutes later. “Apparently Gavin bought our dinner,” Reed said.
Insight Page 26
