Page 12 of For the Love of Art

I laughed.

“Come on,” Lianne encouraged, once again forcing me to look in the mirror. “Tell me what you see.”

I pursed my lips.

“A woman who looks like should have her life together but lives in a rundown apartment that constantly smells like Chinese food.”

At least the food smell hides the mold smell.

“Okay, well, I see a strong woman who watched her whole world crumble around her and rose from the rubble.”

I let my head fall back on her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around my waist, squeezing me.

“Thanks, Li.”

Forty minutes later, we stood on the sidewalk outside the gallery, staring up at the mammoth doors and then back at the bouncer.

“Name?” he asked gruffly.

“I-Isla. Watts. Isla Watts.”

He looked down the list, then flipped a page. Then another, and another. Just as I began worrying that Nathan hadn’t written me down, the man clicked his pen.

“Alright, ma’am.”

He opened the door.

I looked over at Lianne. Her eyes widened as she soaked in the scene we were about to enter. I smiled to myself, remembering all the art openings I’d been a part of. Seeing that gallery parties were still very much must-attend events was nice. Heaven forbid, as a socialite, you miss the next great artist. While the years and the internet had changed the landscape of art sales, the glitz and glamor seemed relatively untouched.

As we stepped into the gallery, the sounds of talking, laughter, and excitement filled the air. I felt twenty-four again as we walked deeper into the space. An air of confidence fell over me as we weaved through the sea of people. I listened in on snippets of conversations about the pieces. Some seemed to interpret the art while others talked about how good it would look over their Boca do Lobo couch, whatever that was.

“Yes, please,” Lianne said behind me.

I turned to see her grabbing two champagne flutes off a tray. She handed me one, which I accepted graciously, taking a sip of the sweet, bubbly drink.

“This is amazing.” Lianne looked around, eyes wide in wonderment. “Is it obvious I can’t afford a single thing in here?”

I chuckled.

“Yeah, kind of.”

Lianne nudged me, and I laughed.

I scanned the room looking for… well, maybe it was best not to admit to myself who I was looking for. It didn’t matter. He was hidden amongst New York’s elite, where he belonged. I was where I belonged, on the outside looking in.

Lianne slapped my arm.

“Ow!” I rubbed where she hit.

“Oh my God! Isla, look!”

“What?”

“Do you see that guy over there?” Lianne subtly gestured with her chin.

I craned my neck.

“I see a lot of guys over there.”