Page 87 of Painting Celia

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“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” Andrew said, moving into the chair next to León. “You really landed on your feet, huh?”

León tore his eyes from his blue-clad muse and turned back to the table. “Yeah, I never dreamed things would work out this well. I can’t believe my luck.”

“Hell, it wasn’t all luck. I contributed. Trevor contributed.” Andrew glanced at Trevor across the table from them. “He got you into the exhibition, and I introduced you to my best girl.”

León rolled his eyes. “You weren’t dating. Come on.”

“No, but I thought maybe we’d get back together eventually.”

“Maybe, eventually,” Trevor chuckled. “Just what every woman hopes for.”

“Well, if people can be stolen away, she’s stolen,” Andrew said. “We’re even now, León. Hope you’re enjoying the spoils.”

“Dude.” León shook his head, hand over his heart. “Literally all I do is paint her. I’ve never eaten so well in my life. She folds my clothes, she takes care of everything. She ordered the packing materials for the exhibition.” That twinging guilt sneaked up again, and he wrinkled his nose. “I basically do nothing.”

“You’re teaching her how to paint,” Andrew said.

León lowered his hand, his thumb starting its tapping. “I think the lessons are over. I tried, but she’s just not a painter.”

Andrew grimaced. “I’d hoped she’d do better with you to help.”

León shook his head. “Her best work so far was throwing paint against a wall.”

“Guys,” Trevor said.

“She always was better at cooking than art,” Andrew said. “Lucky son of a bitch. All you do is paint, eat, and fuck.”

“Dude, I’m sleeping with the model,” León grinned back. They exchanged fist bumps.

“Guys!” Trevor said.

León finally looked over as Trevor stood. “What?”

“Celia!” He pointed past them, and both turned. Kelsey was rushing toward the exit, but Celia wasn’t in sight.

Where…?

“She was right here with the drinks, listening,” Trevor said. “She left.”

“She did what?” León jumped from his seat, then took off after where Kelsey had just disappeared.

He caught up as she came back in the front door.

“Where’s Celia?” A wash of frigid air hit him.

“She left.”

“Left? No, she didn’t.” He pushed past Kelsey through the door, looking up and down the street. His stomach dropped as the empty sidewalks registered.

Kelsey joined him. “What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t….” He clutched at her arm. “Where did she go?”

“There was a car parked here, a ride-share.” She waved at the one empty parking space in front of the bar. “She just got in, and it drove off.”

A sudden void swallowed León’s breath. There was some mistake. Celia wouldn’t have just left him.

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