by Andrew Grey
I took a deep breath, thankful I signed the paintings “FEC” and nothing more. I had never used my real name in conjunction with the work, and in fact had never given out or published what the FEC stood for. Enigmatic had worked for me so far. Now all I had to do was hope that someone wouldn’t connect my style to my work in porcelain—and it wasn’t likely.
“It’s something.”
“I have two other pieces by this artist. I love the flow of the figures and the care shown in the rendering of each one.” Dieter grinned. “It’s almost like the artist is making love to each model with his eyes.”
Beau approached and smiled as he checked the bid sheet for the painting and added his bid. Someone else passed, upping it, and Beau placed another. It seemed there was a war of sorts going on for my work… which no one knew was my work.
“That’s interesting,” Jeremy said from behind me, and I turned. Just the way he looked at me knowingly sent a chill of fear running through me.
“Yes, it is,” Dieter said before stepping back as the music began in the ballroom. “Shall we?” he asked. “I’ve wanted to dance with you, but… from what you said at the restaurant… will you give it a try with me anyway?”
I swallowed, glancing at Jeremy, who glared at me, and my heart sank. I was sure he knew my secret and just hoped he would keep his mouth shut. “Yes, I’ll try.”
“Excellent.” Dieter smiled warmly, taking my hand and leading me through to the ballroom.
Most people had cleared the center of the floor, where a few couples were dancing. Dieter stepped out of the circle of watchers, extending his hand, and I took it and walked into the center. He took me in his arms, a hand on my waist and the other in my hand. I realized he was going to lead, and I had no idea what to do because everything I had learned was for me to lead and now each step was going to be backward. All I could do was try to go with it and hope to hell I didn’t make too big a fool of myself and trample on Dieter’s feet—or worse, fall flat on my face.
“It’s all right. Just step back with your right foot and follow me.” He glided into the dance, and I went with him, praying each step of the way. Dieter was a great dancer, and it was so easy for me to follow him. He guided me across the floor. Sure, I made mistakes, but Dieter adjusted, probably to save his feet from being trampled, and after a while, I forgot about my feet and everyone else, looking into Dieter’s eyes and letting go of my fear. As soon as I did that, everything fell into place.
We glided gracefully, the music sinking in, and as it changed, becoming slower and gentler, he gathered me closer, rocking me as others joined us on the floor. I looked across the floor as Ella and Weston danced nearby. He seemed nice, and I met his gaze for a few seconds. I hardened mine, and he nodded, the two of us coming to a silent understanding. If he hurt my sister, I’d make him pay.
Jeremy was dancing with a woman dressed as what might have been Juliet. He seemed to be having a good time as well.
“Come with me,” Dieter whispered as the song ended. He took my hand and led me off the dance floor and out through the tent, under the canopy of stars. Fairy lights had been strung in some of the trees, looking like stars that had come to earth.
“It’s so beautiful here,” Dieter said quietly.
“It is,” I agreed, but when I turned, Dieter wasn’t looking up at the sky or at the lights, but right at me. The reflected light shone in his eyes, and I shivered, not from cold on a warm night, but from the intensity washing off him.
Dieter leaned in to slant his lips over mine, the kiss soft and yet so intense. “I thought you said you couldn’t dance.”
I smiled as Dieter cradled my cheek in his hand. “I couldn’t, but apparently Ella can, and she taught me some things. I’ve been helping her with her schoolwork so she can graduate, and she’s been teaching me how to dance so I….” I paused, about to give the same answer I always did about not being a danger on the floor, but that wasn’t why I’d done it. I took a deep breath. “I wanted to surprise you and maybe dance with you.”
The music from inside drifted out over the lawn, and Dieter took my hands, moving slowly until he and I danced in place, just the two of us under the stars. I never wanted this night to end, and as long as Dieter held me, the clocks all seemed to stand still. This night could last as long as I wanted it to and everything was going to be perfect. He and I were alone, at a party attended by hundreds, and alone was just how I wanted things to be.
It was easy for me to think I was falling in love, or at the very least, I was most definitely infatuated. And why not? Dieter was handsome, kind, and doing his best to sweep me off my feet, and dang it all, I was more than willing to have my feet swept, or something to that effect.
“Florian,” Ella called as she came outside, and Dieter guided me back toward the tent. “Weston has asked if he can take me home.” Ella practically beamed, and I checked my watch. “I told him I had to be home by midnight.”
“Then that’s fine.” I slipped out of Dieter’s arms and hugged her. “Just be good. I know it’s awesome to have a boy’s attention, but remember who you are.” I know that probably sounded enigmatic to her and tried to clarify. “And I’ll kill him if he does anything he shouldn’t.”
Ella snickered. “He’s already afraid of you.” She giggled, and I released her.
“Go have fun.” I watched her leave, and we stepped back inside.
Dieter excused himself to check out the auction tables so he could update his bids if he needed to, and I stood near the edge of the dance floor. Dante and Beau were together in the center, gliding over the gleaming floor. Not only was it plain to see that they had danced like that many times before, but one glance was enough to know how deeply they felt for each other. No one else seemed to exist, their gazes only for each other.
When the music came to an end, everyone applauded, and then the floor filled as other couples joined in. This was like some fairy tale.
I waited for Dieter and caught a glimpse of him on the other side of the room, talking to someone I couldn’t see because of the crowd of people.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the auction is ending in just a minute and we will be gathering the cards. Hurry and make those bids,” Beau said into the microphone. A few people made their way over to place final bids, including Beau, as soon as he stepped down. I figured Dieter was waiting for what he wanted, so I settled in to people-watch.
Dante’s booming voice echoed through the room. “The auction is closed. We’ll announce the winners shortly.”
Dieter made his way across the floor, his expression serious, lightning flashing in his eyes.
“What happened?” I asked as Dante took the microphone, asking for silence.
“I have the auction winners, and I want to personally thank everyone who bid. You were generous and some of you extravagant.” He grinned at Beau and began reading off the names of the winners. “Cardinal in Spring number one, painted by Florian Cinderson, was won by Count Dieter von Hollenbach.”
I applauded, pleased and proud that Dieter would want my work.
“The Study of Blue Heron, also by Florian Cinderson, was won by Count Dieter von Hollenbach.” Dante went on to list the other pieces, artists, and winners before coming to the end. “The Study of a Man, who even I have to admit looks something like me—though, folks, I have never sat for a portrait—was won by Beau Clarity.” Dante smiled. “I think my husband wanted to make sure my virtue stayed intact.” Everyone laughed, and Dante was about to step down.
“Who was the artist?” someone asked.
Beau got up on stage. “It’s only signed FEC,” he answered and placed the microphone in the stand.
I held my breath and was grateful when there was nothing else.
“Dieter, sweetheart,” a gentle voice said from next to us, and I turned as a stunning woman in a deep blue dress with black accents that screamed money stepped right up to him. “I know you said you’d talk to me later, but I had to….” Her gaze shift
ed to where he and I were touching, and her eyes darkened as she turned to Dieter. “What is this?” She then turned to me. “I’m Lady Clarice Neumann, Dieter’s fiancée, and you are…?”
“Florian Edward Cinderson—FEC,” my brother said over the crowd, and everyone grew silent. As a group, all eyes in the room turned to me, and I realized just what Jeremy had done.
“You’re the artist of the study?” Dieter asked, his eyes blazing, pulling his arm away from me.
“You’re engaged?” I countered, stepping back, paling as the weight of attention broke over me. Dieter was engaged to a woman, and I’d been played for a fool. My heart cracked as the full weight of the last twenty seconds fell over me. I lowered my gaze, refusing to look at anyone as I rushed across the dance floor and into the hall. I swerved to the side when Jeremy stood in front of me, a self-satisfied look on his face.
“Bastard,” I swore.
Jeremy shrugged. “I didn’t paint the boss naked.” He smiled self-righteously, and years of resentment washed over me. I had seen that look so many times in my life, and I hated it with a passion. Once again he thought he’d gotten the better of me. Adrenaline and testosterone warred and built, each trying to overpower the other. I reared back, fist raised, and slugged Jeremy in the jaw. He stumbled and fell on the floor, laid out like a sack of laundry. Then I glanced around, saw Dieter off to the side, Clarice next to him, and headed for the door. I needed to get out of there as fast as I could.
As soon as the night air hit my skin, I picked up my pace, racing to the valet. “Just tell me where my car is,” I told him. He pointed and handed me my keys. I took off, got in my car, and left as quickly as I possibly could. I might have heard Dieter calling behind me, but I paid no attention. My humiliation was as complete as my hopes were dashed.
I should have known. I’d been too damned happy for a while. And it all had to come to an end.
Chapter 6
I WANTED to crawl into a hole and die.
“I’m so stupid!” I said for the eightieth time as I pulled off the highway some twenty miles south of town. I’d driven without really paying much attention to where I was headed. As long as the car stayed in its lane, I didn’t care where I ended up.
I should have known someday those paintings would come back to haunt me. I’d sold them and never taken any credit. I rarely painted from life, just my imagination. Now everyone was going to know they were mine. I was willing to bet half the town would be scouring the internet for my work, and it was going to be easy enough to find if they searched correctly. My flights of fancy would be on display for everyone to see.
What surprised me most was how vulnerable I felt, like part of me was being ripped open and put on display for all to see. When I was unknown, I could handle it easily. FEC was only a part of me, and being anonymous made it easy to see the work. My fantasies brought joy and beauty to others. Now they were only going to bring heartache and condemnation from everyone else.
Checking behind me, I turned around to head back toward town. Running away wasn’t going to change anything, and I needed to go home. I could just as easily hide in my room. At least talk about the paintings would die down in time. What wasn’t going to go away so easily was how Dieter had lied to me. The ache in my chest, while painful, would heal as well. At least I’d found out what kind of man Dieter truly was before I’d gotten beyond the point of no return.
I started for home, driving more slowly now. There was nothing to rush back for. No more dancing or being held, no more laughing or walking under the stars. All of that was over, and hopefully… maybe if I apologized to Dante, he’d let me keep my job.
All too quickly I pulled into town and turned down our street, then into the driveway. The house was dark, which was a small favor. It was before midnight, and maybe if I hurried, I could beat Ella home and lock myself in my room. If they had any sense, my freaking family would be smart enough to leave me in peace. Though if I was correct, that would be a stretch for them.
I unlocked the house and went upstairs to my room, then closed and locked the door before taking off the costume Ella had made for me. Usually when I’m upset or confused, I paint, but that was the last thing I wanted to do right now.
I dressed in comfortable clothes and left my room, going through the quiet house and out the back into the yard. It was dark, and I turned no lights on. I didn’t want to be seen, needed the cover of night around me, its blackness a comfort and a complement to what grew inside me.
The old swing that hung from the tree, the one Ella had played on as a child, served as my perch, and I sat quietly, thinking and wishing things had been different. A car pulled up to the house and into the drive, its lights sweeping around the side of the house, but I stayed in shadow, barely looking up. I wanted to be alone.
I might have heard the bell inside the dark house. I wanted to imagine that Dieter had come to see me, to say he was sorry or to explain. But there was nothing he could say that was going to help. Clarice was his fiancée, and he was a count. Dieter was going to need a wife and a son to carry on whatever his family title and legacy was. I couldn’t give him that.
“Florian? Is that you?”
I looked up at my name, realizing the movement must have given away where I was. Footsteps approached slowly.
“Yes,” I answered once the voice registered. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have hundreds of guests at your house?”
Beau came close enough that I could see him. “I do. But one of the guests of honor left very abruptly.” He stood and I could see his outline against the white house, but little else.
I shrugged. “The party was going just fine, and it’s definitely better off without me there now.” I sighed and stood. “What do you want from me?”
Beau touched my upper arm. “Is the painting I bought of Dante?”
“Sort of. He never sat for me or anything. I did the face with him in mind, but the rest was my imagination. Nothing more.” I didn’t dare move. “I paint people who fascinate me, and when I came to the studio…. I painted that before you knew Dante, when we rarely saw him. I thought he was handsome.” I had to be honest.
Beau stepped closer. “Were you in love with him?”
I gasped and sat back on the swing. “No. I wasn’t in love with Dante. I rarely saw him. I was sort of in love with the idea of someone like Dante. Someone who was strong and would stand up for me.” I raised my gaze from the dark ground. “I guess that’s the best way I can describe it. You don’t have anything to worry about from me. I’m not going to start stalking your husband or anything.”
Beau chuckled. “I didn’t think you were. It’s just that the painting was done with such care and is so expressive… I didn’t want you to be hurting for something you can’t have.”
That had to be the biggest irony in my life. I was hurting for someone I couldn’t have, but it wasn’t Dante. “You don’t need to worry about me.” I swallowed. “Is Dante angry with me?”
“No. I think he’s flattered. I expect he’ll want to display the painting above the mantel in the living room, where everyone can see his gorgeousness.” Beau laughed softly. “Not that I’m going to allow that, so we’ll have to compromise on that one. As far as the rest of your work, I think it’s time you came out of the closet. Your pieces are beautiful, and you should stand behind them rather than hiding. Are you ashamed of them?”
I swallowed. So many things were wound together in the weirdness that was my head when it came to these works. “No. I don’t think I’m ashamed of them. I started doing them years ago when I was a teenager. I’d see a guy I liked and I’d, well, get excited or something… and I could never seem to approach them, so I’d go home and paint them. Over time I let my imagination take over and….” I sighed and tried to think of the words to use that wouldn’t make it sound too wonky. “Most of the pictures come from my imagination, and I had a lot of them, so I started offering them for sale, and they sold really well.” I sniffle
d and wiped my eyes. “I never initially intended to share them with anyone, but then I found I could let the earlier ones go as I distanced myself from what I was feeling at the time.”
“I think the one I have is stunning, and Dante is proudly telling everyone it’s him.” Beau’s smile came through his voice.
“Well, thank you.” I felt myself calming a little. “I do wish my brother would have given me the chance to explain who I was without yelling it out in the middle of the party.” The release of me as the artist of the pictures should have been my decision.
Beau patted me on the shoulder. “I need to get back to the house, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I will be. Thank you.” He’d made me feel better about the paintings, and at least he and Dante weren’t angry. But I still had to face my mother and brother, especially after laying Jeremy out on the floor. He had deserved it, but my mother certainly wasn’t going to see things that way. There was little I could do about it now. I yawned, ready to go up to bed and put this day behind me.
SOMEHOW I made it through the night. Ella got home just before midnight and danced herself off to bed. Mom and Jeremy came home as well and had the grace—where it came from, I have no clue—to leave me alone.
I spent Sunday down by the Bay, watching the birds. I knew I was avoiding people, but it was all that kept me sane. I didn’t want to face anyone, and this was the best way I knew of to stay out of everyone’s way.
My ability to escape only lasted so long, because as much as I wanted to stay away, I had to go to work on Monday morning. I got up early and went in before everyone else, the studio quiet and dark. I turned on the lights and went to my work area.
“Sweetheart.” Hattie breezed in, all smiles. “You really missed it.”
“Excuse me?” I asked as I set out my colors to get started on the stork.
