Work of Art

by Monica Alexander

  “There are no pictures of you,” I said after she’d shown me around the gallery.

  It had taken over an hour, because every few minutes the gallery owner would bring someone over to meet Harper, and they would gush over her work. I so badly wanted to take her hand and squeeze it and let her know how incredibly proud I was of her. She had made a fantastic life for herself, and I hoped, with some of the changes I’d recently made that I was on a path to do the same thing.

  “I’m the photographer. I’m behind the lens.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, and I guess a picture of you would probably steal the show anyway. It wouldn’t be fair to the other models.”

  “Ryan,” she said, blushing scarlet as she looked down at the floor.

  “Harper, you’re beautiful. That’s all I’m saying.”

  God, I wanted so badly to take her hand in mine and tell her I loved her, but she already knew that. And I didn’t want to scare her away. She needed to make the decision to be with me when she was ready.

  She looked back up at me, her eyes bright. “Thank you.”

  “So what are the chances that I might be able to talk you into that celebratory drink? As friends, of course.”

  “I think they’re pretty good,” she said. Then she looked up and nodded at someone across the room. I looked back to see the gallery owner motioning her to come over. “I have to go mingle. Talia just gave me the look that said you’ve been monopolizing me, and I need to give some time to my other guests.”

  I smiled. “That’s fine. I’ll just take another look and see if there’s anything I might want to buy.”

  She blushed again. “Everything’s sold,” she told me, and she sounded giddy. “It’s the first time I’ve ever sold out a show before.”

  “Congratulations,” I said, pulling her into a hug. Her strawberry scented shampoo assaulted my senses and made me never want to let her go. “I’m so proud of you.”

  Thankfully she didn’t chastise me for touching her, and I took that as a good sign.

  “Thank you,” she said graciously. Then she leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “And thank you for coming. It means so much to me.”

  She walked away from me, and I stood watching her go. Her face lit up as she spotted a man in his forties who looked out of place in the shirt and tie he’d put on. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he hugged her back just as hard. Then I watched them engage in a vigorous conversation in which they made many of the same hand gestures. I realized it was her father right about the time she turned and pointed me out to him. And a few seconds later, he was crossing the room to me.

  “Ryan Carson,” he said in a strong voice. I nodded. “Bill Harper. It’s nice to meet you, finally.”

  He stuck out his hand, and I shook it firmly. “It’s nice to meet you too, sir.”

  When he let go of my hand, he shoved his hands in his pocket. “Harper told me what happened,” he said gruffly. “And I’m real sorry you never got to meet Tyler. He was a special little boy.”

  I nodded a few times. “That’s what Harper said.”

  “He looked a lot like you,” he chuckled. “And now I know where he got that pensive look he always used to have.”

  “Excuse me?” I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

  “You have this look on your face like you’re in deep contemplation when you’re nervous, almost like you’re eying up the people around you and the room itself so you know how to defend yourself, if needed. Tyler used to do the same thing, and I thought it was so strange, but now I know where he got it from.”

  I didn’t know what to say. My son and I shared mannerisms. The thought alone made my heart ache for him.

  “I will always regret not getting to know him,” I told him honestly. “But I’m so glad he had you in his life. Harper told me about how much he loved cars, and that was because of you.”

  Bill nodded. “He did. And he could even name them. He was smart for a little boy.”

  “I think he got that from me too,” I joked.

  “I think he got that from his mama,” he said, and we both turned to see Harper talking to a group of enraptured people.

  “I think you’re right.”

  “Well, I’m going to get a beer and see what brilliance my daughter has come up with this time. She never lets me see her work before it’s done, so I never know what to expect. You take care, Ryan, and I expect you to come over for dinner one night.”

  “I’d like that very much. Thank you Mr. Harper.”

  “Call me Bill,” he said, and I nodded.

  And then I just stood and watched Harper as she worked the room. I was mesmerized by her ability to charm an audience as she talked about her art. And they absolutely loved her.

  “She’ll come around, you know,” a voice said from beside me, and I looked over to see Julian. I hadn’t even noticed he was there.

  “I know she will,” I said, looking back at Harper. She was so in her element.

  “She does love you.”

  I looked over at him again. “I hope she does. She’s perfect, and getting another chance with her means everything to me.”

  “She’s not a rebound girl,” he warned, and I looked up at him. He had at least four inches on me and could probably kick my ass if he wanted.

  I sighed. “I know. I’m not looking for a rebound.”

  Sadly enough, I was fairly sure I’d called off my wedding with my rebound girl, and I hadn’t ever realized it. I’d jumped in headfirst with Trish, and I’d regret that for the rest of my life, because it hadn’t been fair to her. But I’d been hurting and looking for validation, and she’d been there to support me and love me and make me feel worthy again.

  She was the one who helped me get over Courtney, so I could put her in the past and be with Harper. I knew it. Had I seen Harper a year earlier, things would have been so different, but now, I was pretty sure we were both in a place where we could be together and be happy.

  “She’s a special girl,” Julian said then, and I started to get irritated.

  I turned to face him. “I know how special she is. Trust me. I know. I’ve known her far longer than you have.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “So you’re willing to fight for her, support her, and love her unconditionally?”

  “Yes, I am,” I said firmly.

  “Good, then I hope you get her.”

  He started to walk away from me then.

  “You don’t have any pull with her, do you?”

  Julian laughed. “I tried, boyfriend. Trust me, I tried, but Harper has a thick skin for a reason, and she needs to make decisions for herself in her own time. Just let her see that you’re willing to be patient. Let her come to you, and you’ll be fine.”

  “Thank you, Julian,” I said sincerely, because it was the best advice I could have gotten in that moment.

  And when Harper came over to me an hour later to ask if I wanted to get a drink, I told her I’d love to.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Harper

  “You were pretty amazing tonight,” Ryan told me when the bartender set our drinks in front of us.

  I was glad the night was over. Shows were always exhausting. I hated having to talk to everyone and be ‘on’ the whole time, but I was still pretty jazzed that I’d sold out the entire show. I wasn’t sure I’d come down from that high for a long time.

  Ryan smiled at me. I took a long sip of my beer and appraised him.

  “I was amazing?” I questioned, as I turned to my body to face him and he did the same, so our knees were practically touching. The sexual electricity between us was vibrating so fast that it was starting to make me lightheaded.

  He smirked at me. “Yeah, you were. You were so natural, talking and laughing and charming everyone you met. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.”

  “I noticed,” I said, hiding my smile behind my beer. “Every time I looked up, you were watching me.”

  “What can I say, I
was mesmerized.”

  I laughed out loud at that comment, glad I hadn’t taken a sip before he said it or else I would have spewed beer all over him.

  “That’s cheesy.”

  “It’s true,” he said, shrugging. “I met your dad tonight.”

  I nodded. I’d seen them talking for a few minutes, but I couldn’t tell from their expressions how it had gone. “I saw. Was he nice to you?”

  “He was very friendly. He invited me over for dinner.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Did he now? He thinks we’re going to get back together.”

  I could tell he was fighting the urge to comment, to ask me if what his dad suspected was true. His lip was twitching, and his breathing got instantly shallower.

  I rolled my eyes. “Just say it,” I told him.

  “Say what?”

  “Whatever it is you want to ask me. I can tell you’re holding back.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, taking a long sip of his beer.

  “So, nothing is on your mind?”

  “Nope,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Fine. Whatever. So how are you? What’s new in your world?” I could go the casual route if he really wanted me to.

  He grinned. “Well, I officially decided to change careers. Today was actually my last day at work.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

  “Yeah, I got a job as a history professor at a junior college outside the city. It doesn’t pay much, but I don’t really care. I’m so excited. I’ve been working on the syllabus all week and reading the books that are assigned for the class.”

  He literally couldn’t stop smiling. It was slightly adorable.

  “Wow, how did you swing that?” I asked.

  School was likely starting the following week. It was kind of last minute to be hired on.

  “One of my business school professors called in a favor,” he explained. “He teaches at Stanford now, and his wife is one of the vice presidents of the junior college. They just had a teacher tell them he wasn’t returning, so the job was mine if I wanted it. Since I double majored in history and business in college, I’m qualified.”

  “Ryan, that is incredible.” I was genuinely happy for him.

  He shrugged. “It’s all part of my master plan to take back my life.”

  I was intrigued. “What else is in this plan of yours?”

  He smiled. “Well, I’m going back to school in the spring to get my PhD in Finance and Accounting, so I can teach at a business school, and when my lease is up on my apartment in September, I’m downsizing. I don’t need all that room and vaulted ceilings and marble floors.”

  “You have marble floors?” I interrupted.

  “Yeah, I do. They’re not all that great.”

  “Must be nice.”

  He shrugged. “There are simpler things in life, and I think I’m just ready to leave all the pretentious bullshit I hated about my life when I was growing up behind.”

  I nodded. “That’s right. You always did complain about how ostentatious your parents’ house was.”

  He rolled his eyes “It was the biggest house in our neighborhood. It was more than ostentatious.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, but it was a beautiful house.”

  “I liked your house better.”

  “You did?” I questioned, taking a long pull on my beer as I made a face. “It was so modern.”

  He flashed me a shy smile. “Yeah, but you lived there, so it was the most beautiful house I’d ever seen.”

  “Ryan!” I chastised him as I felt my cheeks get hot.

  “Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly, realizing how his statement sounded.

  He let out a deep sigh, and I knew he was agitated, but he needed to give me time. He couldn’t make such casual statements like that. We weren’t in that place, and as much as he was starting to wear me down, I wasn’t ready to go there.

  “It’s fine,” I told him as I drained the rest of my beer. I felt Ryan watching me, as if waiting for me to make the next move. I looked up and caught the bartender’s eye. “Can I have another?”

  Next to me Ryan visibly relaxed. I think he thought I was ready to bolt, so he was relieved to see me order another beer instead of the check.

  “I’ll have one too,” he said, and I glanced over to see him tearing off little pieces of his napkin.

  I reached over and took his hand in mine. “I need time, okay?”

  “Yeah, I know,” he sighed, and I knew he was regretting what he’d said. But he shouldn’t. It had been sweet – unexpected, but sweet.

  I smiled at him, and he gave me a ghost of a smile back.

  “Tell me more about your art,” he finally said. “What are you working on right now?”

  I relaxed as the bartender set our beers in front of us. I could talk about my art all day long. That was an easy subject.

  And for the next thirty minutes, Ryan and I stuck to easy subjects. He didn’t make any more borderline inappropriate comments, and for that I was grateful.

  When I yawned for the third time, Ryan signaled the bartender for the check.

  “No, I was having fun,” I whined.

  He chuckled. “You were about to fall asleep with your head on the bar. I think it’s time to call it a night.”

  “Okay, fine,” I said begrudgingly, but I really was tired and it was late.

  Ryan smiled as the bartender handed him the check.

  “Would you maybe want to walk me home?” I asked him.

  My apartment was only a few blocks away, but I didn’t want to walk alone or try to find a cab at that time of night.

  “I’d love to,” Ryan said, as he threw a hundred dollar bill down on the bar. Then he stood and waited for me to get up.

  “Is that a hundred dollars?”

  “Yeah,” he said, shrugging.

  “Are you getting change?”

  “No.”

  “Ryan, we bought four beers. That’s like twenty dollars. You can’t leave an eighty dollar tip.”

  “Why not? The guy’s a bartender. He probably doesn’t make a lot of money, so why not help him out?”

  I smiled. His intentions were sweet, but he’d had money for way too long, that was obvious. He might want to get rid of his marble floors, but mentally, he’d always be a rich kid.

  “Didn’t you quit your high paying job today?”

  “Yeah.”

  I picked up the bill. “So save your money, you idiot. You’re probably going to need it,” I said playfully, thrusting it back at him before reaching into my clutch and pulling out a twenty and a five.

  I threw them on the bar as Ryan looked at me in what seemed like awe. “You’re smart and sexy. I fucking love that,” he said, and it was so honest that I knew he really felt that way about me. “What am I going to do with you?”

  I shrugged. “Walk me home, hug me goodnight, and be my friend.”

  “Your friend?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Are you okay with that?”

  I hoped he wouldn’t say no. I didn’t do well with ultimatums, and we were making good progress. I didn’t want him to derail that now.

  “Harper, I’d love to be you friend,” he said, and he was so serious that I knew he wouldn’t stop until we were back together. He was doing what I asked because he really wanted more, but he was exercising patience, and I appreciated that.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ryan

  Friends. Harper was willing to be my friend, and that sucked from one perspective, but from another, I knew it was better than her freezing me out. And I knew it was better than what I’d had just twenty-four hours earlier. And if she was willing to be my friend, then I knew she could be willing to potentially be more than friends, because I knew she felt something, and she’d given in to this step in just three weeks.

  And knowing that gave me enough of an incentive to push forward.

  I rode the elevator up to her apartment, the confidence bubbling up in me as the floor
s passed by one by one. I pushed up the sleeves on my blue striped button-down and ran my hand back through my hair as the numbers changed over above my head.

  13

  14

  I bounced impatiently on my sneaker clad feet feeling like this was the slowest elevator I’d ever ridden.

  15

  16

  Ding!

  I took a deep breath and strode toward her front door, knowing I was ambushing her and hoping she’d be okay with it.

  Then I took one more breath, swallowed and knocked on her door.

  A cute blond answered and looked at me in question for a few seconds before recognition dawned on her face.

  “You must be Ryan,” she said, almost as if she’d been expecting to see me.

  I nodded. “I am. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, sticking out my hand so she could shake it, wondering how she knew who I was.

  Had Harper been talking about me with her friends? That thought made me freakin’ giddy.

  “I’m Kelly Lewis, Harper’s friend,” she said, stepping back to let me into the apartment.

  I stepped into the foyer and looked around, but I didn’t see Harper.

  “She’s in the shower,” Kelly supplied. “We made plans to go shopping today, but it sounds like she was out late with you last night, so she’s running behind.”

  I couldn’t help the smirk that crept up on my face. “Yeah, sorry, we were sort of talking.”

  We’d actually stood outside her door talking for thirty minutes after I’d walked her home, and when she’d finally hugged me goodbye, I hadn’t been able to wipe the smile off my face.

  Kelly looked at me in question. “Is that all you were doing?” she prompted, and it seemed like she would think it was a positive thing if Harper and I had been out late doing all the things I’d been fantasizing about doing to her since I’d seen her again for the first time.