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“A messenger delivered something for you earlier, Piper.” Bridget points at the office when I walk through the door of the gallery.
I had just enough time after eating breakfast at Jo’s diner to go home to change for work. I slipped into a pair of dark slacks and a light blue blouse. My wardrobe, outside of jeans and T-shirts or sweatshirts, is limited. I make a mental note to stop at the vintage shop I pass when I walk here from the subway stop. I should be able to find a few decent pieces that won’t cost too much.
I set down the two cups of iced coffee that I picked up on my way here. I’ve had more than my share of coffee today but I plan on sorting through my sketchbooks tonight, so I need the jolt of caffeine to get me from here to there.
“How was class last night?” Bridget calls after me as I make my way to the office to lock my purse in her desk and to retrieve whatever the messenger brought for me.
I slide my purse into the bottom drawer before I relock the desk and tuck the key back into the front pocket of my pants. “It was good,” I call back to her as I scan the office looking for anything that remotely resembles a delivery.
“It’s that envelope in the middle of my desk.” Bridget appears in the doorway. “It was hand delivered by a man in a black suit.”
I pick up the cream-colored envelope and run my fingertip over the dark ink that spells out my name. There’s no return address.
“Did he say who sent it?”
“No, but we can find out if you rip it open.” She laughs as she takes a step forward. “I’ve been itching to find out what it is since he dropped it off.”
I look up to where she’s now standing. “When was it dropped off?”
She bounces in her red sandals. “Thirty minutes ago. I’m dying of curiosity. A mysterious man brought you an envelope. Open it, Piper.”
I nod as I carefully run my fingernail under the flap. My heart is hammering in my chest. This envelope is nothing like the one Jo slid under my apartment door. This one is luxurious. Its quality is evident. I reach in to pull out a thick card.
“What does it say?” Bridget inches up on her heels. “If it’s not too personal, that is. If it is, I’ll understand.”
My gaze falls to the plain card that is embossed with the faint outline of a rose. I flip it open and read the words to myself.
You have been selected to attend a private showing of Sem Jansen’s collection tomorrow evening. 8.p.m.
Origin Hall. Manhattan, New York.
No cameras allowed. No additional guests, please.
My hands are shaking as I hand the card to Bridget and watch her expression transform from curiosity to shock.
“Piper,” she practically screams my name into my ear when she tugs me into a hug. “You know Sem Jansen? I’ve been a fan of his forever. Oh my God. I’d give anything to go to that private showing.”
I take the card when she offers it back. I reread every word, absorbing each syllable. “I wish you could come with me.”
I sincerely wish that and it’s not just because I can tell that it would mean the world to her to meet one of the most respected artists in charcoal drawings. I want her there with me because I don’t know what’s going on.
I don’t know Sem Jansen. There’s no way in hell he knows who I am. He’s from Amsterdam. The last time he set foot on North American soil I was ten-years-old.
She cranes her neck to look at the invitation again. “They always keep the guest list to a minimum for these things. It’s usually art critics, collectors, those types.”
“Why was I invited to this?” I mutter to myself before I look at her. “I was planning on going to his exhibit on Saturday with Rufus and one of my students.”
“Sem must know your work, Piper.” Bridget’s hands dart to my shoulders. “Beck mentioned meeting him once years ago. Maybe Sem follows our website and he saw your portfolio and he was blown away like we all are by it.”
I shake my head. “If he were looking at the website, this invitation would be for you, not me.”
“It doesn’t matter why you were invited.” She starts back toward the gallery. “You’re going and I want every last detail when I see you next week.”
I nod in agreement even though my mind is racing in a thousand different directions. Tomorrow night I’ll be at a private early showing for a legend. Life doesn’t get much better than this.
Chapter 21
