Another was the back of child, on his knees, peering out the window at the first snowfall of winter. The artist had somehow conveyed the excitement, the magic of that moment. My heart lurched in my chest. There was something so personal about these paintings, so intimate—as if they were plucked from my own memories.
I was early for my signing so on impulse I ducked into the gallery. The room was empty as the exhibition didn’t start until seven. The paintings mesmerized me. A young girl blowing bubbles through a plastic wand brought back vivid memories of my childhood. Another was of a town, covered in snow, with yellow lights glowing as if welcoming the viewer home to a place so familiar, yet one they’d never seen before.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” A man hefted a large canvas onto an easel that was placed in a prominent position within the store.
“They are riveting,” I said. “Is it a local artist?”
“Yes. The painter is a friend of mine, but I only recently discovered his genius. Quite a talent. Quite a talent, indeed.”
“What’s that one?” I asked, pointing to the canvas he had just lifted onto the easel that was still draped.
The gallery owner straightened. “This one is his best. A masterpiece, in my opinion.” He leaned toward me and winked. “Would you like a sneak peek?”
“Oh, yes.” I gave him a big smile. “I love secrets.”
He carefully removed the drape and stared at the painting as if seeing it for the first time. “This one is called Sleeping Beauty.”
The first thing I noticed was the light. It was as if the gallery owner had thrown open a window and sunlight lit the canvas of the painting. The picture was of a young woman, asleep amid a soft pile of white sheets. A pale blue blanket had been pushed aside, making her vulnerable somehow. She was on her back with one arm thrown wide and the other tucked under her breasts, almost as if she meant to hold the viewer close. Her blond hair fanned across the pillow, but it was her face that was most entrancing. Because as you looked at this sleeping girl, you knew you looked at her through the painter’s eyes and that he loved her beyond measure.
The second most entrancing thing was that the girl was me.
Chapter Fifty-Four
It was a fluke that I walked by the Books of Wonder store. My client meeting over on Broadway had ended early and it had been a sunny winter day so I’d decided to walk to Claude’s gallery for my exhibition. There was part of me that still couldn’t believe I was going through with this. Exposing such a personal side wasn’t like me, but I’d promised myself I would change. I wouldn’t live my life in fear of being hurt. I would take a leap of faith and see what happened.
It wasn’t the sign that made me stop dead in my tracks as I walked by the bookstore. It was the picture of the girl on the sign.
I backed up and practically pressed my nose to the window to read what it said:
Book Signing
Alexis West
bestselling author of
FAÇADE
Saturday, December 17th at 7:00 p.m.
My heart skipped a beat then raced double time. I’d found her.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins like a shot of electricity. What were the chances that we would both be having events the same day within blocks of each other? Fate was a fickle friend, but she’d finally smiled down upon me.
I WENT ROUND and round on how to approach Alexis, but in the end, I decided on simple. I just went to her book signing.
I stood off to the side, her book in my hand, pleased to see that the place was full. My stomach rolled around like I was a kid on a rollercoaster. Crazy thoughts went through my head as I waited. What if she didn’t want to talk to me? If she didn’t, I told myself, then that was the answer I needed to know to move on with my life.
The timing was critical because I was cutting it close to my own gallery opening, and I glanced at my phone again. The minutes ticked by and still no Alexis. Where was she? I would have to go soon. After all the work Claude had put into this exhibition for me I couldn’t be late. What if I missed her?
“What time do you expect her?” I asked the owner, yet again.
He glanced at his watch and frowned. “Any time. As you can see, we have a full house.” He glanced toward the door. “I can’t imagine where she might be. I hope she’s all right.”
Finally, at 7:05 I couldn’t wait any longer. I was late to my own event.
“Could you give her my card?” I asked, handing my card to the owner. “Ask her to call me? I’m sorry, but I can’t stay.”
“Certainly,” he said, his brow furrowed with worry.
I ran out of the store and sprinted down the street. Damn it! How could I be so close and still miss her? I raced around the corner to head up Seventh and slammed into another body. The person went flying backwards and I grabbed onto them just at the last second to stop them from catapulting onto the concrete.
“Sorry!” I exclaimed, swearing in my head at my bad luck. My fingers wrapped around small arms as I fought to hold them upright. “Are you okay?” I glanced down and looked into Alexis’ face.
Chapter Fifty-Five
“Oliver?”
He looked as if I’d jabbed him with an electric cattle prod. I’d never seen a more beautiful shocked face in my life.
“Alexis?”
I only saw his smile for a second before his hands cupped my face and his lips were on mine. Warm, demanding, missing me, telling me so many things that he’d never said with words.
He finally pulled back and stared at me. “I was waiting for you at your book signing.”
I laughed. “And I was waiting for you at your exhibition!”
“Did you see—”
“Yes,” I whispered. “She’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Alexis came to my exhibition after her book signing while I was addressing the crowd. I saw her in the back of the room and motioned for her to come to the front. She shook her head, but I walked back and slipped my arm through hers, leading her back with me.
“Ladies and Gentlemen—I’d like to introduce you to my muse: Alexis West—” I smiled at her— “bestselling author.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Oliver and I talked about everything and agreed to start fresh. To take a leap of faith—together.
It was first day of January when I opened my laptop and pulled up a blank Word document. I needed to get to work on the new story that Caroline and my editor were waiting for. The cursor blinked against the white page like a heartbeat.
On impulse I shut the lid of my computer and reached for the book Oliver had given me. I grabbed a pen. For the first time in a long time, I knew exactly what to write.
“I’m sorry to tell you it’s bad news. The last three houses passed on your project.” The voice on the other end of the phone line paused. “Did you hear me?”
My lips curved in a smile. I knew exactly how this story ended.
As always, thanks to my daughter, Carly Hamilton, for her patience in reading preliminary drafts and then re-reading, and for her great sense of story – it’s always fun to talk through my books with you! Also, thanks to my long-time critique partner and fellow author, Paula McLaughlin, for her always insightful comments and encouragement as we both tell our stories and hone our craft.
AND thank YOU for reading Lexie & Oliver’s story. If you enjoyed this book you might consider posting a positive review online at Amazon, Goodreads etc. This is, in part, what allows authors to be able to continue to publish stories!
Kiki Hamilton
April 3, 2017
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Unwritten Page 16
