A series of three collages, at least a yard tall and half as wide, hung side-by-side. Fancy art gallery plates held the artist’s name, title, description and year the paintings were completed. The three in this collection were titled: Peace, Love, and Joy. The series was done in hues so subtle that you had to let your imagination fill in the distinct color variations that teased the eye. It almost left her in a daze.
Scenes on each panel had been painted to look like an old tin photograph on the top two-thirds. The lower sections were different, with collages of timeless collectibles, including daintily scripted letters, stamps, flowers, and a wedding photo. In another, there was a delicate silver watch laid across calendar pages, and tickets that were all time and date stamped from the 1920s.
“I love these.” She turned to see someone had pulled Matthew aside. She’d been so drawn into the images that she hadn’t noticed he’d stepped away. Not that she minded. She watched him talking to the people. He seemed genuinely humble, although he had so much to be easily prideful about.
She waited until the people left and walked over to Matthew. “I’m blown away,” she said. “I knew you were talented. I’ve seen the mural and the art Mom purchased for the office, and she doesn’t buy junk, but this is…” She looked around and then back at him. “I feel like it’s a piece of you. Like I know you better for having seen these—sounds silly, right?”
“No. It doesn’t. Thank you, that’s so kind, and yes, in every single piece of my work there is a part of me. I happened into art as a coping mechanism when everything else in my life was out of control. Sometimes, I don’t even know what I’m going to paint until I’m finished. I get that lost in the process. The colors, the shapes, somehow it all comes together.”
“It’s a special gift.” It sounded so freeing.
“Has to be a gift, because there are many more talented artists than me that can’t make a living with their art. I am forever grateful for the path I’m on.”
“I can see that.” The gallery was becoming more crowded. She found it interesting to observe which pieces of art caught the eye of the guests. “I’m enjoying this so much. I’d love to look around. Do you need to stay put to talk to people about your work?”
“No, this is a fun night to celebrate the new gallery. I’ll let you lead the way.”
“Fun. Okay. Let’s go this way.” She moved down a corridor with sleek marble flooring and painted in deep jewel tones. Alcoves and niches held exquisite paintings in gilded frames and lighting that showed off the vivid hues.
He followed along quietly for a while, then leaned in and whispered, “I’m really glad you came with me.”
“Me too. This is really interesting. I’m having fun, even if you kind of strong-armed me into it.” She propped her hand on her hip playfully.
“Wait a minute.” He looked worried. “I may have exploited the situation with the video to get you to go to dinner, but I politely invited you to accompany me here. At least I meant to.”
She giggled. “You did. I’m just playing. And I’m really glad you invited me.”
“Me too. ”
They walked out into the main hall and started working their way through the smaller rooms.
“They have a wonderful spread out in the restaurant for everyone.” He glanced at his watch. “I thought you might enjoy the sunset. We can grab a plate and sit outside overlooking the river.”
“That sounds lovely. Let’s do that.”
“We’ve got a little bit of time.” Matthew shared what he knew about the other artists on the way over to the restaurant. Many people recognized him, and he was always gracious and likable. She’d never really dated anyone that impressed her like this.
As they looked at a series of seascapes, she overheard a couple talking about Matthew’s work. She found herself excited to hear how much they valued his talent.
Matthew pulled out his phone to check the time again. “Sorry I keep checking. I don’t want you to miss that sunset. We still have about thirty minutes.”
“Can we go back to where your paintings were? After seeing so many, I want to look at them again.”
“Sure.”
He led her back through the rooms to where they started.
She followed him, feeling oddly comfortable despite not knowing him for long, and suddenly understanding why her mother loved shopping for art so much.
Chapter
Fifteen
Matthew had to admit, Whitney wasn’t the only one who’d made some assumptions in those first couple of meetings. Being an attorney in an old-as-the-hills law firm, he’d expected her to be a bit uptight and snooty; she was anything but.
The first time they met, he’d been running from the threat of a lightning strike. Tonight, when he saw her all dressed up, he felt like he walked straight into one. It took him a moment to gather his wits and find something, anything, to say.
“These are for you,” he had said, handing her the bouquet. They paled in comparison to her. Her sleeveless gown wasn’t revealing, but it softly draped across her collarbone in an alluring way.
