Sweet Hope (Sweet Home #4)(7)
“Levi, you got so big and grown up on me!” I joked, and he dipped his eyes to avoid my gaze, a shy smile spreading on his lips. “How old are you now, darlin’?”
“Nineteen, ma’am,” he replied. Rome walked behind him and ruffled his hair. Levi nudged him off.
“Well, shit! Nineteen!”
“And one of the best wide receivers you’ve ever seen,” Lexi praised as she reached up to pat his cheek with her slender hand. Levi beamed a wide smile at her, and you could just see the love he had for our little friend radiating out of his every pore.
“Just like your brother, then, huh?” I teased, seeing Austin take a seat at our table next to Rome, Molly and Lexi moving to sit beside each of their husbands.
Linking my arm through Levi’s, I said, “Well, looks like you’re my date tonight, Lev. You can sit beside me.”
Levi fell into step beside me and we sat down. “So you at college, Lev? Are you here in Seattle visiting Austin and Lex?”
“No, ma’am, I still live with them. I attend the University of Washington now; I transferred from UCLA.”
I stared at him, feeling somewhat confused. “You didn’t wanna stay in LA?”
Austin shifted in his seat as he looked at his younger brother. Levi lowered his head. “I wanted to stay close to my brother and Lexi. That’s all. The Huskie’s ain’t too bad, and we’re doing real good this year.”
My heart sank as I saw a wash of vulnerability flit across his handsome face.
“Best damn player on that field, hey, little brother?” Austin said, breaking the silence, and Levi lifted his head, blushing at Austin’s expression of pride.
“So, Al, Molls and Rome said you’re curating some fancy-ass exhibition at the University?” Austin said taking the attention of Levi, just after Rome ordered a round of drinks from the waiter who stood just out of our eyeline.
I laughed at the way he put it. “Yeah, I’m curating some fancy-ass exhibition.”
“What? It is fancy-ass, right?” Austin said, as Lexi shook her head in exasperation beside him.
“Ignore him. He’s all football, football, football, not exactly an art buff,” Lexi teased Austin, earning her a threatening scowl.
Lexi batted her hand and looked to me again. “Tell us about it, Al.”
“Yeah, tell us about it Ms. Aliyana Lucia,” Rome said dryly. I used my mama’s maiden name for business, and Rome always teased me about it. I just didn’t want the Prince Oil stigma following me around. I wanted to be independently successful, not connected with the family name.
My eyes were instantly brimming with excitement. “What can I say? It’s my dream come true. This exhibition is the artist’s debut show, and I was hand-picked to curate it. I still can’t believe it!”
“What does he paint?” Molly asked.
“He doesn’t. He’s a sculptor.” I released a long breath. “He’s the most inspiring, courageous, beautifully dark, tortured, talented sculptor I’ve ever encountered….” I stared out at the darkened view of the Sound, lost in the slideshow of his sculptures running through my head, each more poetic and tragic than the last.
Shaking my head, I met the shocked stares of my friends and anxiously brushed hair from my face. “His work, it’s… it’s… it’s my soul. That’s the only way I can explain it. It’s life, death, love, tragedy, and everything in between, every human condition… everything. His work speaks directly to my heart.”
“Ally…” Molly prompted with unshed tears in her eyes. When I felt a wetness on my cheeks, I realized I was crying. Quickly wiping away the tears, I took a deep breath and expelled a nervous laugh. “I really love his work.”
“I can tell,” Rome said affectionately.
“I’m so happy for you,” Lexi said excitedly and leaned forward. “What’s he like? Is he handsome?” Austin cast a disbelieving look at Lexi, but she either didn’t see it or flat out ignored him.
I shrugged. “That’s just it, I’ve never seen him. No one has. He’s a complete recluse. I was commissioned by another artist, his mentor, who’s fronting the entire thing. He’s a patron of the university’s art museum and a local to Seattle. It really should have been at a bigger museum, but they wanted to keep it small.”
“Vin Galanti?” Molly volunteered.
“Yeah, have you met him?”
“Once or twice.” A grin spread on her face. “He’s quite the character. He brought some of Plato’s original writings to the art museum for a temporary mash-up art/philosophy exhibition they were a part of. I helped with the history and translation of the Latin for the text boards. I adore him.”
“So what’s his name?” Lexi asked, as the waiter came back with our drinks.
“Name?” I questioned as a glass of champagne was placed before me.
“The sculptor, Mr. Owns Your Soul’s name!” she stressed and pouted her lips to stop the smile from lighting up her face.
“Oh, right, sorry. Erm… Elpidio. He goes by Elpidio,” I replied.
Austin huffed beside me. “Haven’t heard that name in a while.”
“You’ve heard of it?” I questioned.