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“I don’t want to bore you with any more details that you’ve already heard,” Patrick said. “I’ll just say that I don’t have much respect for Aleksander. I have many professional rivals, some of whom often trounce me when we compete over a piece of artwork or a coveted employee, even a vacation rental. Just last week, Ruben undercut one of my investments and made a boatload at my expense. But I don’t begrudge him for it because that’s the way of the business world. Aleksander is different because he isn’t an honest man. He wins, but he does so through cheating and underhanded behavior.”
“That’s the impression I got from your conversation with him,” Emma confirmed.
“Anyway. I’m sorry to unload that all on you. I’ve just been frustrated with Aleksander for a long time, and there’s rarely anyone I can tell about this kind of thing.”
“I’m glad you feel like you can tell me.” Emma realized that her hand was still on Patrick’s arm. Instead of taking it away, she gave his bicep a gentle squeeze that she hoped showed her solidarity. Patrick smiled down at her.
“Thank you. Now, enough of this. Let’s look at some paintings.”
“I can’t wait.”
They began a leisurely circuit of the room, stopping in front of each painting they passed to discuss it. As Emma had noticed when she’d first arrived, most of the paintings were portraits. A large number featured children, beautiful women, or regal men, but a few included animals, families, or larger groups.
“I like this one,” Patrick said. “The shading is incredible.”
“I like how the artist plays with light,” Emma agreed. She gestured to one corner of the painting, which was enveloped in shadows. “See, the light from the window should illuminate this corner, but it doesn’t. It feels like a secret.”
“What do you think she’s hiding?” Patrick nodded at the woman in the portrait. She was smiling, but her eyes were serious and her head was slightly angled, as though she was looking at something in the distance beyond the painter.
“Perhaps she’s worried about how her past will affect her future,” Emma suggested. “See, the dark corner is behind her, but she’s looking ahead. It could show some kind of contemplation of time.”
“I think you might be right. There’s also a clock motif in a few places.”
“And the painting in the back of this painting shows several different seasons in one piece — that also points to the passing of time.”
“What do you think?” Patrick asked. “Shall I place a bid?”
“On behalf of your company or for your personal collection?” Emma asked.
“I’m here tonight as a personal collector,” Patrick told her. “My art staff will pick out a few good paintings as potential investments, so I only need to look for myself.”
“Then I think you should choose a different painting.” Emma bit her lip. “This woman looks… sad. Reflective. I think you need something more uplifting.”
“I’m not so sure. I tend to drift towards reflective paintings. I think that’s why I enjoy landscapes so much.”
“I believe that. It’s exactly why I think you need something different. Just because something’s happy doesn’t mean it can’t be deep and interesting.”
“Okay, I’m listening. Show me what you think I should bid on.”
“All right.” Emma swept her gaze around the room. She landed on and dismissed a series of paintings before settling on one in the far right-hand corner. “I have something in mind. Follow me.”
Patrick let her lead him to the painting and stopped in front of it. The piece showed two young girls. They were dressed in Victorian garb, although Emma estimated that the painting had been done later, within the last hundred years or so. The children were holding hands, their skirts flying around them as though they were spinning, and their heads were thrown back in laughter. Behind them was a garden filled with flowers and trees.
“This one,” Emma said decisively.
“It’s nice,” Patrick began, his tone hedging. “But isn’t it a little… girly?”
Emma snorted. “Girly?”
“Yeah. I mean, the girls, the dresses, the flowers…” Patrick waved his hand to encompass the entirety of the painting.
“I suppose I see what you mean. But girly isn’t a bad thing. This is for your personal collection, right? So, it only matters if you enjoy it. I doubt many others will even see it.”
“I suppose…”
“Now look at the painting and tell me what you feel,” Emma instructed.
“I feel like I’m in school again with a command like that,” Patrick joked. But he did as Emma asked and looked closely at the painting. “It feels girly.”
