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Chapter 4
After the buzz of the reopening died down, and Tanith got done scolding herself for leaving Blake with an opening to pursue her if he wanted to, it was business as usual for the gallery owner. Most days it felt like she had a million things to do, and this morning Tanith was buried in her office, managing her books and ensuring she had enough funds to pay all her expenses at the end of that month. Unlike many galleries that opened and closed within a few weeks, Tanith had maintained her business by ensuring her bills were paid on time and she had no creditors.
Unfortunately, that had become difficult with her daughter’s medical expenses racking up, but somehow she managed, month after month, to pay her dues, keep a roof over both their heads, employ a tutor to teach Hayley from home, and ensure the fridge was stocked and the lights were working. Although occasionally flighty and always open to the mysticism of the world, Tanith had never truly appreciated the value of the all mighty dollar until suddenly she had to stretch it six ways from Sunday.
With her office door open a few inches, she kept an ear out for the ringing of the little bells over the front doors, but so far the only folks in today were those renting studio space. Alani had popped by shortly after she opened, her twins dropped off at school and her hands ready for clay. They’d exchanged brief hellos before throwing themselves at their respective tasks, though as Tanith entered more expenses into her spreadsheet, she couldn’t help but think Alani’s task sounded infinitely more enjoyable than hers.
Hell, watching paint dry was more enjoyable than crunching numbers. But Tanith did it. Week after week, month after month, year after year. One, because it would keep her business from going under like just about every other gallery under the sun. Two, because once she tackled her weekly numbers, she knew she wouldn’t have to look at them again for another week—and that was usually the best moment of her day.
Just as she set one stack of paperwork aside and moved on to the next, there was a commotion from below. She straightened up and frowned, wondering if she had just been hearing things, but then quickly stood when she heard it again, and this time there was no mistaking it. Something had fallen in one of the studios downstairs, and since Alani was the only one working, Tanith instantly feared for the worst. Because the woman was definitely sporting a teeny tiny bump in her belly, and if she fell somehow in Tanith’s gallery, she would never be able to forgive herself.
Panicked, she raced downstairs, calling out Alani’s name as she went—only to stop on the last step when she heard a trio of voices paired with music and laughter.
“What the hell…?” Taking it a little slower this time, she moved through the huge space, going straight for the clay and pottery studio, which housed two kilns and an abundance of work tables so multiple artists could make use of it.
She hadn’t been paying as close attention to the front door as she’d thought, because somehow Espie and another woman had made their way past her and into the studio. Also, they were dancing. Apparently, her basement studios doubled as party rooms too.
She cocked her head to the side, arms crossed, and smiled as she watched the trio. The woman she didn’t know rocked purple hair—and eyes—better than Tanith ever had. Her hair had an almost backcombed dreadlock quality to it, and her arms were absolutely covered in bangles and baubles, her fingers loaded with rings. She was quite lovely. Tanith swore she had seen her before, this gypsy wanderer who seemed more at home at some music festival than her gallery, yet she couldn’t recall ever learning her name.
“Oh, Tanith! I’m so sorry!” Alani looked mortified to have been caught doing whatever the hell the three were doing down here, and rushed for the radio from which the music tinkled out. She hastily turned it off and whirled around to face Tanith in the door. “Were we too loud? I didn’t even notice.”
“Not at all,” she insisted warmly, stepping into the rented studio space and grinning. “I just wanted to see what all the commotion was about. You know I’m always down for an impromptu dance party.”
She gave Espie a little cheek kiss in greeting before her eyes drifted over to the other woman, who studied Tanith with a look that almost seemed to see right through to her soul. She found herself wanting to shy away and expose herself more, both interested and hesitant to explore the almost psychic energy rolling off the purple-haired new arrival.
“My parents want to commission a whole bunch of stuff from Alani,” Espie explained, and Tanith noticed the way Alani blushed under the instant attention. “So I’m here to put the order in. Hey,” she set a hand on Tanith’s shoulder, “maybe we can do a showing of it here at the gallery first. Find a way to cross-promote the businesses.”
“I’d love to. I already have a collection by Alani set to go up soon,” Tanith said as she glanced at her friend for confirmation. Alani nodded enthusiastically. “So, we could aim for another one a few months from now.”
Espie beamed. “Awesome.”
“I have so many ideas,” Alani added.
“Tis the season of creativity for you, dear one,” the purple-haired woman remarked, her voice that of an aging mystic. Deep and beautiful, Tanith could easily imagine using a voice like that for hypnotherapy—she really needed someone to help her stop chewing her nails.
“Have you two met?” Espie asked when Tanith realized the woman had caught her staring. A slight shake of her head was Tanith’s response, and Espie licked her lips, as if unsure if she ought to introduce them. In the end, she cleared her throat and gestured to the stranger. “This is Ursalina. She…works with my brother.”
Alani seemed to be pressing her lips together, almost as if she thought the comment was funny. First with Blake, now with this Ursalina woman. Was Tanith just prone to being out of the loop these days?
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, moving forward and offering her hand for Ursalina to shake. “I’m—”
“Tanith Ravenna,” the woman purred. She clasped Tanith’s hand in both of her ring-addled ones, and her touch was electric. Tanith instantly felt a thousand little electric shocks, the kind you get from rubbing socked feet across a carpet, jolting through her. When she tried to tug her hand free, Ursalina only seemed to hold tighter.
“What are you—”
“For many cycles, your future has been clouded, Tanith Ravenna,” Ursalina told her—yet her lips weren’t moving. Unless she was going crazy, she swore she could hear the woman’s bluesy voice bouncing around inside her own head. Suddenly, Ursalina threaded her fingers through Tanith’s and offered a soft smile. “Yet now, the clouds have parted. The fog has lifted. Blessed tidings are coming for you. Destiny approaches. Be open to it.”
Tanith found herself slipping deeper and deeper into the lull of Ursalina’s voice. The electric shocks had faded to something akin to a massage, like there were warm, hard hands rubbing up and down her body, soothing her, taking away all the knots and pains. She could have stayed there forever, lost in that floating feeling. Almost like she was high.
Tanith blinked slowly. Was someone filtering weed in through the air ducts? Had she accidentally hotboxed herself in her office without realizing it?
“Can you do that, Tanith?” Ursalina asked, her voice dropping to a whisper, quieted by the sound of waves washing up on a shore—like she was at the beach. “Will you be open to destiny?”
“Sure,” Tanith said with a giggle. “As long as Destiny isn’t a stripper…”
Alani and Espie seemed to be giggling too, but the sounds were so very far away, so inconsequential.
Out of the corner of her eye, something crackled. And popped. And made noises it shouldn’t.
