Hold Me Close(71)

“I don’t know him well enough to say,” Effie admitted. “I’ve only just started dating him. But if that’s how he’s going to be, I’ll have to tell you, I’m not gonna have it.”

Elisabeth gave her a commiserating look. “Let’s go back to my office for the final details. And yeah, I know what you mean. It’s fine for them not to pay attention to your messages, to leave them unanswered for days at a time, but boy oh boy, you’d better be jumping to answer them the second they text you, huh?”

As if on cue, Elisabeth’s phone jangled. A call this time. She slid her finger across the screen and gave Effie a twisted little grin.

“Nope,” she said. “I’m not answering him this time. He can wait on me, for a change.”

Effie had known Elisabeth through Naveen for years but hadn’t spent much time with her. Effie thought the other woman was married, had some adult kids, but something in the way her phone was blowing up didn’t sound like a husband. At least not the loving kind.

“Oh, hey, I wanted to ask you if you’d consider bringing a few special pieces, too. I saw them on your website store. I...” Elisabeth paused, looking almost embarrassed. “I really like them. They spoke to me. I know you prefer to sell those yourself, so I’d be willing to take them here without charging a commission, if you sell them. I want people to see them.”

Surprised, Effie nodded. “Sure, I guess. What pieces?”

“Let me show you.” Elisabeth pulled up Effie’s Craftsy store on her desktop and spun the monitor to show her. “I’ve noticed these pieces have been for sale for a long time. Your stuff usually moves pretty quickly on there, so I thought...well, art is so subjective, you know? I know you have that collector audience who buy the clocks...”

A beat of silence fell between them, and Effie filled it by moving closer to look at the screen. “Oh. Those? You like those?”

Elisabeth had pulled up three oils Effie had painted, not a triptych on purpose, though they’d ended up being one. Similar themes as the ones the collectors bought—straight lines, simple subjects, with hidden images you had to search hard to find. They had clocks, but they were barely hidden, no challenge to find. She’d always assumed that was why nobody had wanted them.

“They’re a secret. Aren’t they?” Elisabeth shifted in her chair to draw some lines in the air above the picture on the screen. She glanced at Effie, but her voice and her gaze were somehow...reverent didn’t seem to be the right word, but respectful. Yeah, maybe that.

Effie tilted her head. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, the reason why people love your work is because it’s a challenge. Finding the clock. Right? You make them not only appreciate the piece as something enjoyable to look at...not always pretty,” Elisabeth amended. “Sometimes a little disturbing. But always enjoyable. Yet you also make them look behind what the picture is to what’s hidden in it. I’ve been on the forums. They love it, like a grown-up version of Where’s Waldo?”

“Yes, but for freaks,” Effie murmured.

Elisabeth didn’t laugh. “Yes. There’s the voyeuristic aspect to it. Yet these three...well, you barely have to glance at them to see the clocks. It’s not super obvious, but it’s there and there and there.” She pointed. “But that’s not the real hidden picture. Is it?”

Effie sat back to study the other woman. “No. It’s not. What do you see?”

Elisabeth used the mouse to click something, blowing up the picture on the screen. Her grin turned kind of secret, assessing. Something in her eyes glowed as she glanced at Effie.

“You have the clocks, of course. You always do. But here, here and here—” Elisabeth traced the lines “—you have this. It’s the shape of a heart and two initials. E...and H.”

It was true, and real, and nobody else had ever seemed to see it. Effie had shown the three pieces together and separately to several people and had featured them in her store. Elisabeth was right about that—they’d been in the inventory for a couple years, never selling. Nobody had ever inquired about them.


“I’d always thought they were some of my best work,” Effie said quietly. “Not like the piece I sent to Naveen. But really good.”

“They are more than really good. The piece you sent to Naveen is art. If you do more like that, they will also sell. They will make people talk, there’s no question about that. But these, Effie...” Elisabeth sat back and pressed her fingertips to her eyelids. She drew a hitching breath. In a broken, rasping voice, she finished, “You made these for someone you love. Didn’t you?”

Effie swallowed against the tightness in her throat. “Yes. Someone I love very much.”

Elisabeth gave her a watery smile and grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk to wipe her eyes and then her nose. “I can tell.”

“Maybe that’s why they didn’t sell.” Effie reached for a tissue herself.

They stared at each other across the desk.

“Does he know?” Elisabeth asked after a moment.

“About the paintings?”

“No,” Elisabeth said. “How much you love him?”

Effie shook her head. “No. He couldn’t possibly. I’ve never told him.”