Love Starts with Elle(88)
“I’m not letting you quit because of a snooty gallery owner.”
“You beat all, you know it?”
“Elle, I see you driving to the chapel for prayer every morning. I see the peace riding on your countenance. And yet you have no faith that God is bigger than Mitzy Canon?”
She paused on the edge of the kitchen. “I would’ve never sent your book to an agent or editor, or even a friend to read, without your permission. Especially if you warned me about how insecure you felt. But that’s exactly what you did to me.”
Man, she was right. She was out the door before he could apologize. He chased her across the yard. “Elle, wait, stop.” But she continued to her car in long, lean strides.
“Heath, you leave in a few weeks, right? A month? Let’s just call a truce until then. You stay out of my way and I’ll sure as shooting stay out of yours. I don’t think I can afford your kind of friendship.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
The first night of the Summer Art Walk opened on a starless night the last weekend of August. The Gazette gave Elle’s work a nice write up, but tonight Ruby Barnett would act as judge.
The morning after Heath and Darcy stole her paintings, Elle met the gallery owner on the historic homesite’s front porch with a cup of coffee from Common Ground.
“I’m not giving you back your paintings. Keep the coffee.”
“Then you leave me no choice. I’ll call the law.”
“Then you leave me no choice. I’ll sue for breech of contract.”
Check and mate.
So, for the better part of an hour, Elle loitered outside the gallery opening night just beyond the reach of the streetlights, watching Wild Heart gallery visitors come and go.
So far, she hadn’t heard anyone guffawing or grumbling.
“What are you doing out here?”
Startled, Elle jerked into the tree and scraped her arm on the bark. “Heath, what’s the big idea sneaking up on people in the middle of the night?”
“Middle of the night? It’s eight o’clock.” He stood too close.
“What are you doing out here?”
“What’s it look like? Not going in.”
“Are you seriously going to hide out here all night?”
“Yes.”
He moved closer, violating her personal zone. “Still mad at me?”
Not really. “Of course.”
His eyes lingered on her face before he walked off, down the street, disappearing in the brown shadows of evening fading to night.
Folding her arms, Elle propped against the tree, considering for a second Heath might, just might, have a point. Go inside, get it over with. Yesterday after prayer, she’d peered through Darcy’s side window to glimpse her display.
The paintings didn’t even look like hers—new frames, hanging on a burnt-yellow wall, the images vibrant and beautiful.
“I’m sorry.”
Elle turned to see Heath with a single white rose. “Nice touch, McCord.”
“Friends?”
She touched the slick pedals to her nose. “Yeah. Sorry I got so peeved.”
“Sorry I borrowed your paintings.” Heath grabbed her hand, gently tugging her up the main walk to the gallery’s verandah. “I wouldn’t miss your debut. Can I escort you inside?”
“Please.”
Wild Heart Gallery shone, from the highly polished floor to the perfectly aimed lighting. The gallery fragrance was cinnamon with a subtle hint of drying oils.
Darcy preserved the home’s original layout, using the formal dining room as her main showroom. And there she hung Elle’s six paintings.
Candace’s heels thunked and echoed in the dining room as she crossed over to meet Elle when she entered with Heath. Feathers is a fantastic painting.”
“It turned out.”
Gallery guests moved in, then out. Mozart drifted over them from the mounted speakers.
Heath squeezed Elle’s hand and she decided to stay in the comfort of his shadow. Sara Beth arrived a few minutes later with Parker, and after them Julianne and Danny.
The most beautiful thing in Darcy’s gallery? A radiating, shameless Julianne. “Danny, didn’t I tell you?” she said to her fiancé. “Elle’s paintings are beautiful.”
“Yes, you did. I might have to commission a few pieces for some of my buildings.”
“Do it while you can, sweetie,” Julianne said, “before she’s famous and we can’t afford her.”
After Julianne’s tense confession during dinner at Mama and Daddy’s, Danny had arrived with Rio, bringing every raw emotion and question to the surface.
Daddy invited Danny into his study where they talked in loud, stoney tones. Mama entertained Rio with a book. Julianne stared out the French doors. Elle prayed in the kitchen.
But by the time she hugged the family good night, Julianne was in Danny’s arms, Mama wiped tears from her cheeks, and Daddy agreed to his baby girl’s November wedding.
“Julianne, there’s Carl Yawn. Let’s go say hi.” Danny escorted his fiancée across the room.
Heath bent down to Elle’s ear. “Is that Rio’s father?”
“Yeah, she finally told Daddy and Mama. There I was doing a good deed for my sister while my friend robbed me blind.”