by Andrew Grey
“Thank you,” I said, looking up, grinning.
“The large blue heron vase that Dante submitted was a masterpiece, especially with the way you used the curve of the piece to accentuate the flow of the bird. It was like neither the vase nor the decoration could exist without the other. The piece is stunning,” Dieter said.
“Oh.” The praise left me breathless and wondering what to say. I wasn’t used to getting compliments. That wasn’t a part of my life.
“Yes. That’s why I not only recommended the award, but I bought the piece as well.”
I glanced at Dante, who nodded. That was almost too good to be true.
Beau jumped in. “So we were trying to figure out how to present the award. Dante wanted to do it at the factory this Friday. He figured something small, and then he could go back home to the little hidey-hole where he spends most of his time.” Beau rolled his eyes. It was pretty rare to see Dante out and about. Though it had changed some since he and Beau got together, I suspected Beau still had his work cut out for him. “I have a better idea. We’re going to dust off that old house we live in and open the old girl up. It’s time we had a party. So, I say we throw open the ballroom and have a party.” Beau grinned and clapped his hands together. “A masquerade with masks and fancy costumes, like in the movies.”
Dante growled, and I turned my attention to my sandwich. I wasn’t going to get in the middle of their discussion. Dante sat back, glaring, arms folded over his chest. “Really?”
Beau wasn’t going to be put off. “Of course. We haven’t used the ballroom in, like, forever, and we never have large parties and things.”
I caught Beau making a face that obviously melted Dante’s resistance. His lower lip protruded just a little, and his eyes took on a puppy-dog look. It was clear that Dante didn’t stand a chance against it. His arms unfolded and he sighed.
“Good, and don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything, including your costume.”
I continued eating, glancing up at Dieter every few minutes and doing my best not to watch my boss acquiesce to his partner. It was uncomfortable for me because I wanted what they had.
Beau went on as if nothing stood in his way now. “I’ll get a live band and we can dance.” He swayed back and forth. “You remember the first time we danced together? It was in that huge ballroom, but just the two of us. I’ve always wanted to throw a party, and this is a real celebration of success. Your success and that of the entire studio.” Beau took Dante’s hand, and I turned away. I didn’t want everyone to see how much I longed for that kind of gentle touch. For someone to care enough about me to want to soothe my feelings even when they’d already gotten what they wanted.
“Do you like parties?” Dieter asked, leaning slightly forward.
I set down the half of the sandwich I’d been about to take a bite from. I personally wasn’t too sure about parties. I didn’t dance, and figured I’d end up against the wall somewhere watching everyone else have fun. “I don’t know. I haven’t been to one since I was a kid.”
“You haven’t been to a party?” Dieter asked a little too loudly, and both Beau and Dante turned to me.
I shrugged hard. “It isn’t like my family is much for parties.” I took a bite of the sandwich, becoming more uncomfortable at the line of questioning that led to my family. There was nothing I could do to change how I’d grown up.
“Then I’ll make sure you get an invitation.” Beau shook Dante’s hand in excitement, his dinner apparently long forgotten. “We can invite everyone from the studio. They all worked really hard to earn this award, and it would be a nice night for them. I want to do it while Dieter is here, so I only have a few weeks, but I can get a tent for outside the ballroom so we’d have plenty of space.”
“Can’t we keep it small?” Dante asked, his impatience close to the surface.
“Nope. It’s a celebration and it should be grand. And we can make it a benefit at the same time. Maybe an art auction or something.” Beau rambled on about another of his ideas, and I took the chance to watch Dieter as he looked at them.
Dieter nodded in response to a question from Beau, and his hair fluttered, cascades sliding over his shoulders.
“Fine,” Dante said. “You can do whatever you want. But it’s going to have to be pretty quick. There isn’t a lot of time, and something this big is going to take some organization.” Dante seemed self-satisfied, like he’d just come up with a huge wet blanket to throw over the entire thing. Beau, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed at all. He simply pulled out his phone and started sending messages. Within seconds his phone chimed multiple times. “What?” Dante growled.
“Angie says she’s going to call the tent people and has a sister-in-law who knows a great band. Harriet says just to tell her the date and time. She’s already putting a menu together. And Roberts is apparently scheduling a crew to come in to clean the ballroom and will arrange for extra tables, chairs, and a florist.” Beau’s phone chimed again, and he scrolled through. “Perfect, a week from Saturday will work.” He sent out more texts and received more chimes in return. “All set. Everyone knows.” He set down the phone, smirking at Dante. “Did you really think I couldn’t do this?”
Another growl was Beau’s answer, and he scowled back.
“Keep that up and I’ll find you a beast costume.” Beau fake glared, and I covered my mouth to keep from giggling. Dante was widely known as the Beast of St. Giles, and the rumors had only begun to subside when he’d met the outgoing Beau Clarity. Even so, they persisted, though Dante didn’t seem particularly interested in whether the rumors died completely or not.
“Don’t you dare,” Dante said.
Dieter raised his eyebrows, and I leaned a little closer.
“It’s a long story,” I told him.
“So… it looks like a party.” Dieter rubbed his hands together. “I love parties and I adore dancing. Do you think someone here will dance with me?” He turned to me with a small smile.
I froze, my back chilling. I could easily imagine myself dancing with Dieter, being held in his arms, gliding over the dance floor while the rest of the room faded away until it was only the two of us. The problem with that image was that I had two left feet and couldn’t dance to save my life. The last time I tried, I’d stepped on people’s feet and nearly gouged someone’s eyes out. My mother said I looked like a demented chicken, and Jeremy asked if I was doing an impression of some undead zombie… or something. All I did know was that I embarrassed myself on the dance floor.
Dieter was still watching me, and I swallowed hard, finding myself nodding and wishing to hell I could stop it. I should just open my mouth and say I couldn’t dance, but the way he looked at me, expectantly, with a welcome in his eyes that I rarely saw from anyone, seemed to steal my voice, and all I did was nod some more.
“See, Florian wants a party too, and it’s his work that won you the award,” Beau pressed, and Dante capitulated completely.
“I can’t stand in everyone’s way. Fine, throw as big a party as you want.” He held Beau’s hand. “I’ll do whatever you want to make you happy.”
Beau swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then he beckoned Dante closer. Beau’s lips were right next to Dante’s ear as he whispered something. Now it was Dante’s turn to blush, his eyes growing wide.
I turned away as Dieter chuckled, and Betty, thankfully, interrupted everything with plates of dessert. I turned my attention back my food, where it should have been all along. I finished my sandwich, wondering how quickly I could get out of there before I did something else stupid, like agreeing to a lap dance or something.
“Now, as for the charity portion of the evening,” Beau said, turning to me. “Do you think the designers will contribute a small painting or something? The proceeds would benefit the Allison Bartholomew Community Mental Health Center.”
I cleared my throat. When Beau first mentioned offering up a painting, my mind had gone to the works up in my room an
d I nearly choked. There was no way I was going to include one of those. “Umm, I could paint something for you, I’m sure. I can’t speak for the other designers, but we often do studies of new designs. I bet we could frame those and have a silent auction or something.”
“I’d be willing to contribute a piece,” Dieter said. “I have a number of works of modern art in my collection and a good number of the works from your studio.” He paused. “Rather than ship one of the delicate pieces back here, I’ll purchase one of Florian’s original designs and donate it to the auction, as well as have a work that’s less fragile shipped from my collection.”
“That’s lovely of you.” Beau grinned.
Dieter bowed slightly in a very regal way. “It’s no bother.” He pulled out his phone and sent a message.
I motioned to Betty. I needed to get my check and leave. These plans weren’t for me at all and I felt like a fifth wheel. These were interesting, vibrant people, and I was the outsider, the boring one.
As a child, I used to see patterns and colors when I met people, but I hadn’t done that in a while. Dante would’ve been a bright brocade, thick, warm, filled with color. Beau would have been a silk with a vibrant pattern in wild colors that fluttered in the breeze, capturing everyone’s attention, and they loved him for the display. I saw Dieter as a rich, tanned leather, sturdy and luxurious against the skin. I shivered at the thought. Then I remembered that I was a yard of muslin, plain and boring. Nothing against the vibrancy and luxury of those around me. I could create lovely colors and patterns on canvas, but I never saw any in myself.
Betty brought my check, and I reached for it as Dieter did. He got to it first, and my hand grasped the top of his. I was about to tug my hand away when Dieter released the bill and turned his hand to clasp my fingers. Heat slid up my arm. I felt like some damsel who got to hold the hand of Prince Charming, if just for a moment.
Dante and Beau were deep in conversation, and Dieter leaned toward me. “I look forward to seeing you again.” The words were simple, but the meaning and intensity in Dieter’s deep blue eyes left me breathless.
I swallowed around the lump forming in my throat, nodding slowly. “Me too. Maybe tomorrow by the Bay?”
“Dieter,” Beau said.
I pulled my hand away and picked up the check, which had fallen onto the floor. “I’ll let the three of you talk.” I stood, and with my heart still pounding in my chest, I went to the register. I paid the bill and handed Betty a tip before leaving the restaurant. As soon as the crisp Bay air hit my lungs, I breathed deeply, the fog dissipating from my mind. I stopped on the sidewalk, inhaling again and again, letting my head clear of the clouds that seemed to have taken up residence.
What a mess I’d made of things. And yet Dieter seemed to like me, as boring and plain as I was. I shook my head to get that ridiculous notion out. How on earth could someone who reflected the sun with equal brightness be interested in me? No matter what I wanted to see in him, it wasn’t possible. It had to be my imagination.
I hurried to my car and drove right home. The house was quiet, with Mother and Jeremy each out somewhere. Isabella was in the living room, watching television.
“Hey, Ella,” I said as I came up behind the chair. “Where’s the terrible twosome?” I asked teasingly. She turned, tears on her face. “What happened?”
She wiped her cheeks. “Your mother,” she spat. “I’m a person, not her maid. She’s lazy and mean all the time. She went to the movies or something and left me a list of stuff I’m supposed to do while she’s gone. She never does anything here, and I’m…. I want to leave, but this is my mom and dad’s house. It’s where my mom lived, and….” She wiped her eyes once more. “There’s so little of her left here, but I miss her. I wish my dad had never married the old battle-ax,” she screamed, and I wished I could disagree with her. I took her in my arms, rubbing her back gently to try to soothe her.
“Let me see this list,” I said once Isabella had calmed down. “I’ll help you with the dishes and clean in the kitchen. You vacuum and take care of the living room.” I was tired, but I could help.
She smiled softly and slowly got up from the chair, her stewing over.
In the kitchen, I unloaded the dishwasher and got it reloaded and running, then cleaned up the table, shaking my head at how Mom had left her dishes everywhere, expecting someone else to clean up after her. I sighed. Sometimes my mother could leave a wake of chaos behind her. She really had no concern for anyone else and felt entitled. My grandparents had had a housekeeper when my mother was growing up. Apparently she’d never had to pick up after herself. So now her kids had to fill that role. It had driven us all crazy for years, and now she’d turned her sloppiness on Isabella.
“How is it coming?” I asked loudly. The vacuum had been running for a while, and as I finished sweeping the kitchen floor, she was doing the same in the living room.
“I’m done in here.” The machine grew quiet, and the wheels squeaked as she put it away.
“Good.” The living room looked nice. I checked the list and grinned as I wrote Mom a note next to her last task. She could damn well clean her own bathroom. Isabella giggled, and I put the note back on the table. “She’ll be home in about an hour. Go to bed before then and close your door, and go to school early in the morning to study.”
She pulled a face. School was always difficult for her, especially math. Isabella had failed one of her last classes, so she was making it up in summer school so she could get her diploma.
“Thanks.” Isabella turned on the television, sitting in front of it. I left her alone. Lord knew she deserved some peace and quiet.
I went upstairs to my room. With the door closed and locked, I pulled out the painting of Dieter and got to work, filling in more detail until I was happy with it. What I’d done surprised me. It was stunning and sexy as all hell, with intense eyes and curves in just the right places to be seductive, and I loved it. When I was satisfied, I set it aside, grabbed another canvas, and concentrated on just his face with this second one.
I swear I’d remember that smile and the quirky look Dieter had had when he’d said he wanted to dance with me. Actually, he hadn’t said that exactly, but that was what I hoped he meant. It didn’t change the fact that I was a danger on the dance floor, but still… his expression and intensity, like I was the center of his attention—I liked it, liked that I might matter to someone, if only for a little while.
THE FOLLOWING afternoon, after work, I changed clothes and pulled on my boots with more enthusiasm than was probably necessary. I left the studio and drove out along the Bay, hoping to see the black Mercedes already there. But the parking area was empty.
I should have known better than to get my hopes up.
I got out and gathered my equipment, and looked up the drive hopefully before trudging down toward the Bay to find a place to sit and watch.
The sun peeked out from around puffy white clouds that slid across the sky on the wind, creating bands of light and shadow on the water as they went out to sea. Gulls and ducks, even an occasional goose, played on the thermals, sliding and seemingly holding still as they rode the air with precision.
I watched through my binoculars, making notes in my mind about how I could portray them just like that. Maybe a full scene around the entire vase, with the reeds and water as well as the birds? Make the entire piece the canvas, giving the viewer plenty to see as they explored what was hidden. I liked the idea and pulled out a small tablet from my shirt pocket to make a few notes before returning to my pastime of studying the birds.
Kicking myself wasn’t going to help or change anything. I went over the conversation in my head and realized that while I’d offered to be here, Dieter had never said he’d come. Of course he wasn’t going to meet me. Why had I even thought he’d come to see me? My mother was forever belittling Isabella because she learned things more slowly than most people. But maybe it was me, sitting out here, hoping a guy would show up and want
to spend time with me… someone like Dieter, who only needed to smile for my insides to do a little dance and my belly to flutter with excitement. But he could have anyone. So why would he want my attention, and what could I ever do to capture his?
I sighed too loudly, scaring up a few ducks, who took to the air. There was little use sitting here any longer. I’d come out here in the hope of seeing Dieter, but he wasn’t going to show up, and the sunlight was fading as dusk approached. I stood and slowly made my way back to my car, changed into my sneakers, and put my equipment away. Then I got into the car and headed back toward town and my usual, rather dreary existence.
The sun itself reflected my mood, hiding behind the thickening clouds as a storm poised itself on the horizon. Storms had a way of changing things on the Bay. Sometimes the wind and rain washed away sandbars and flooded marshes, sending the birds off in search of new places to nest and feed. Other times, after the storm was over, I went out and found flocks of egrets and herons where there hadn’t been any before.
As I drove, the sky darkened. A storm was definitely on its way, and I tried to imagine what it would carry along with it. Of course, sometimes a storm was nothing more than rain and thunder, a bunch of noise and wet that changed nothing at all. I couldn’t help wondering what the clouds on the horizon would bring this time. Lord knows it was time for some sort of change.
Chapter 3
IT WAS Friday and I wanted to finish the piece I was working on before the weekend. I also didn’t want to rush, but the energy of a new design was too much to resist.
“That’s wonderful,” Beau said quietly as he approached my work area.
I set down my brush. “It isn’t quite finished yet, and I keep wondering if something is missing.” I gestured for him to come closer so he could see it better.
He bent down to examine the piece. “The reeds are really lifelike and the smaller birds are stunning. They really seem like they’re moving.” He looked up. “What’s the focal point going to be? Have you decided? The background and scenery are gorgeous, but there’s no central figure.”
