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I let out a groan and can’t suppress my eyeroll. “Well, there isn’t a chance Mrs. Clemens will be buying my piece at next week’s exhibition. The phrasefinger paintingwas tossed around.”
Concern furrows her brow. “Maybe this just wasn’t the right piece. You’re a great artist, Bianca. Margot will see that someday and even if she doesn’t, you know she’s not the only gallery in town.”
“I know, but she’s the best. Besides, if she says it sucks, I’m inclined to believe her, even if it was a little harsh. She said I need to find my muse and I guess she’s right. I’ve got to find something I’m really passionate about.”
“Something or someone.” She wiggles her brows suggestively at me and I can’t help but smile.
“I don’t think that kind of passion is my problem.”
“Well, I know that I could use some inspiration of my own. We need to go out soon and meet some guys before my lady bits fall off from disuse.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. Besides, weren’t you dating that guy from your Yoga studio? What happened to him?”
“Christian? He’s long gone. Every time we were going to have sex he wanted to stop and stretch first. I mean, who does that?”
“You’re kidding.” I laugh picturing their naked stretching sessions. “We definitely need to go out soon. I heard there’s some new bands playing at Vinnie’s, we should check it out.”
Before we can solidify any plans, the gallery phone rings and Jenna grabs it, greeting the caller in her deceptively sweet voice that never lets on she’s a shark when it comes to art sales. I start emailing the artists scheduled to participate in next week’s event and remind them that their pieces need to be here three days early so we can set up.
The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly. A few people wander in off the street, but they’re just browsing. We’re open to the public but most of our business comes from shows and by appointment. However, I always enjoy any chance I get to show people around the gallery and talk about my favorite thing, art.
By the time I’ve locked up and driven back to my neighborhood I’m exhausted, my feet hurt, and I’m still a little pissed about my earlier meeting with Margot. Once I finally pull up to the house I share with my roommates, I can see that Violet’s beat me home and already parked in our tiny driveway. I can’t even be mad. I’m usually the first one home and Hollie and Violet are the ones forced to participate in the Hunger Games, otherwise known as parking on Blum Lane.
Each side of the street is packed with cars and I’m less than thrilled about the prospect of walking half a mile while lugging this canvas in my four-inch heels. There’s a tiny spot in front of the house next door to mine, but I can tell my car isn’t going to fit. If this was a week ago I wouldn’t have given it a second thought and just crammed my car in there. Unfortunately, the house that’s stood empty for months has finally been sold and I really don’t want to give the new neighbors a bad impression by blocking their driveway.
With a little prayer to the parking gods and a sigh, I hit the gas and circle the block. After my third go around I’ve had enough. I just want to drag myfinger paintinginside and have a glass of wine… or twelve. I’m not bitter at all.
The tiny space in front of the neighbor’s house is calling out to me, tempting me like a siren luring a sailor to his death. Hopefully my consequences won’t be quite so dire.
Pulling my car into the tiny space, I move as far forward as I can, practically kissing the bumper of the car in front of me. I check my side mirror and let out a groan of frustration. It looks like I’m hanging over the driveway just the tiniest bit. But it’s really not that much and who knows what day the neighbors are actually going to move in. Plus, I’ll be gone again first thing in the morning. They’ll never even know I ever so slightly encroached on their space.
It takes me a few minutes to gather my belongings, including my canvas shoved down into my tote, and lock the car. My shoulders actually start to loosen a little with home in sight. A glass of wine and complaining to my best friends is definitely in order. Then it’s right back to the easel to start over from scratch.
“Ma’am.”
I don’t bother turning and looking to see who’s calling out because as far as I’m concerned, I look nothing like a “ma’am”.I just keep marching down the cracked sidewalk, careful not to trip in my heels.
“Ma’am. Excuse me.” This time the voice is sharp with annoyance and coming from directly behind me. Quickly spinning around, I find a man impatiently trying to get my attention.
Hello there.I quickly take him in all the way from his well-fitting jeans to the tanned and muscled forearms that are crossed over his chest and land on his face that’s all sharp angles. There’s even a lock of blond hair falling perfectly across his forehead that has me itching to reach for my paint brush.
This guy is hot. Like scorched earth hot. Well, he would be except for the sour expression on his face. It’s a mixture of arrogance and annoyance. In fact, his entire aura is giving off an air of superiority. Add that to the fact he apparently called me ma’am—twice—and my hackles are up.
“It’s Miss, actually.”
Proving himself to be the dick I immediately pegged him as, he continues like I haven’t said a word. “Ma’am, your vehicle is parked across my driveway.”
Ah, this must be the new neighbor. Well, so much for making a good impression. Unfortunately for him, I’m not some pushover. If this guy thinks he can boss me around without even a simple please just because he’s hot, he’s got another thing coming.
“It’s barely hanging over the edge.” I try to cross my arms across my own chest to mirror his stance but the bag holding my canvas is in the way, so I just come off looking like a crazy woman who doesn’t know what to do with her hands.
“I’m going to need you to move your vehicle.”
“Do you have a moving truck coming or something?” I look over his shoulder and try to see if there are movers pulling up but don’t spot anything. However, I do take notice of anondescript sedan already pulled into his driveway, under the archway next to the house.
“The movers are already gone, so if you’ll just move—”
“It looks like your car is already parked in your driveway. Do you plan on going somewhere?”
