AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ll see you at home,” she says shyly, offering me a quick smile before turning and heading to her car. I’m not ashamed to admit I watch her ass the whole time as I walk behind her.
“Was True going to hit Bobbie’s mom?” Cooper asks the moment I get to the car and unlock it.
“If she was, I have a feeling it’s because she loves you so much,” I assure him, not sure how else to answer that question as we get in.
“I love her too. She’s the best,” he concedes with a bright grin, buckling into his seat.
Couldn’t agree more.Though I’m not sure which part I agree with most.
12
True
“Are you sure?” I ask, looking over at Cooper, who’s passed the heck out on the couch in Milo’s lap.
“Yes, of course. He’s just going to sleep the entire time. You’ll be disappointed if you miss the gallery,” Milo insists, and I sigh. I nibble my bottom lip and then nod. I kiss Coop’s head and then rush off to my room to get ready. I’ve got thirty minutes to shower and change. Fortunately, I don’t need to wash my hair, just my body.
I’m waving goodbye to Milo and dashing out the door just as the alarm on my phone goes off, letting me know it’s time to leave.
I wore pink kitten heels, so I’m able to hustle to the gallery without making my feet hate me. I wore a rather sexy dress if I do say so myself. Pink velvet, spaghetti strap, v-neck dress with a slit up my thigh. My red hair is down and curled, and I added a simple pink pendant necklace just to complete the look.
It takes about twenty minutes to get to the gallery. I wasn’t sure what to expect since I’d not been here yet, but the expansive building with the large spotlights just outside was not it. I knew Clay made a killing off his work and his gallery since he also displays other artists. I just didn’t know it would be so high class.
When I first walk in, I’m immediately greeted by a waiter holding a tray of champagne flutes. I snag one and start to sip as I take in the room. Clay’s name is displayed on a plaque attached to a thick marble column, and all around the bright white room are dozens of paintings. I’m sensing a theme when I see hundreds of feathers dangling from delicate strings hanging from the ceiling. A lot of the paintings are different landscapes of cloudy cities and abstract golden rivers, and different images one would attribute to a heavenly landscape.
As I continue around the column, I start to see a myriad of different portraits of faceless people with angel wings attached to their backs. All in different poses and colors, each portraying a different character. And smack dab in the middle of the room is a real, flesh and blood woman dressed in a sheer, billowing white gown. But what’s the most stunning are the massive white wings she wears as she dances to soft, melodic music. Her moves are akin to a ballet dancer, smooth and fluid like she’s dancing on air. She raises her hand up and points toward the ceiling.
I can’t hold in the gasp at the painting that’s mounted as if it’s looking down at the people below. I have to blink my eyes a few times to make sure I’m seeing it right because I can’t believe it.
The soft, glowing woman painted with gentle brushstrokes in a flowing pink dress, bright red hair that drags across the floor she sits upon, and delicate wings protruding from her back…is me.
It’s like he plucked all my cupidness right from life and put it on canvas. Except he shouldn’t know what I am at all. How he could have painted me so accurately with my wings is giving me heart palpitations.
“Do you like it?” a deep voice says in my ear.
I jump and turn to see Clay smiling nervously at me, waiting to hear my thoughts on his work.
“Why did you paint me like that?” The question falls from my lips in almost a whisper. I also want to ask how he found out and if he’s going to tell Milo and Bellamy.
“Because my theme tonight is angels in paradise. You’re the most beautiful woman I know, so I painted you as the angel I see you as.”
Angels. Of course. Duh. He painted me as an angel, not a Cupid.
I hold back the sigh of relief I want to release and smile brilliantly at him. “It’s gorgeous. And I love it. I knew you were talented, but this is above anything I imagined. The dancer is a nice touch too,” I say motioning at the woman.
“I’m glad. And this isn’t a normal art gallery. It’s interactive in a way. A show within a show. Each section has different artists with different themes and they all have something interactive inside them,” he explains, pointing to the archways that lead to different areas of the gallery.
“That’s fantastic. I can’t wait to see it all,” I beam at him.
“Well, walk around and take a look. I’d walk with you, but I have to stay here and talk to the masses,” he laughs.
“It’s okay. Go entertain,” I say, patting his arm.
“I’ll see you back at home later, I have something for you. Thank you for coming, beautiful.” He leans down and kisses my temple quickly, before walking away toward a waiting group of people trying to get his attention.
He’s at ease here. Surrounded by his people and his art. His charm is effortless, and I see tags being put beside multiple paintings marking them as sold.
I drag my eyes away from Clay and watch the dancer a little longer before moving to the next section. This room is darker, with lights projecting moving flames across the walls and floors. This theme is called Demons in Damnation according to the plaque at the entrance, and by the look of all the gothic castles surrounded by flames and ghoulish creatures, the artist took this theme to heart. They’re all terrifying but also stunning to look at. There’s also a dancer in here, but this one is a man dressed in demonic makeup and he’s doing a more fast-paced modern dance to darker music.
