Page 16 of The Art of Loving You

I chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “If I remember right, you outbid me on that Degas sketch.”

Ella turned to me with a smirk. “Fair and square. You snooze, you lose.”

Anthony entered then, his warm presence filling the room as he extended a hand toward Ella. “It’s good to see you again, Ella. Lucas has told me all about your upcoming exhibit.”

Ella shook his hand, her smile growing. “Thank you so much for agreeing to this. It means the world to me.”

Anthony waved off her gratitude with a chuckle. “It’s not every day someone with your passion comes along. I’m more than happy to help.”

In the corner of the room stood an easel draped with a cloth. Bess’s curiosity immediately zeroed in on it. She tugged at Ella’s hand, already moving toward the easel.

“What’s under there?” Bess asked, craning her neck to get a better look.

Anthony smiled kindly, crouching to her level. “That’s a surprise for your Aunt Ella. But how about this—you can join some other kids in our Creative Kids Room while she looks at it? You’ll get to paint or make something out of clay.”

Ella’s smile faltered slightly, her hand tightening around Bess’s. “I’m not sure?—”

“It’s perfectly safe,” Anthony assured her. “And Zoe,” he said, motioning to his assistant, “will stay with her the whole time. Right, Zoe?”

Zoe stepped forward with a reassuring smile. “Absolutely. We’ll have a great time, won’t we, Bess?”

Bess’s enthusiasm won out. “Can I, Aunt Ella? Please?”

Ella hesitated a moment longer before finally nodding. “Okay. But you stay with Zoe, alright?”

Bess beamed. “Okay! Thank you!”

“She’ll be just down the hall, Ella,” Anthony said with a kind smile.

As Zoe led her away, Ella watched her go with a mix of reluctance and fondness. “She’s never met a stranger she doesn’t like,” Ella murmured.

I touched her arm lightly. “She’s in good hands. Now, are you ready to see what’s under that cover?”

Her nervous energy shifted into anticipation as Anthony moved toward the easel, pausing dramatically before pulling the cloth away. The vibrant colors ofThe Circus Riderfilled the room, and Ella gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

“It’s stunning,” she whispered. “I never thought... I never dreamed I’d have this in my exhibit.”

Her gaze lingered on the painting, and then she laughed softly. “You know, I feel like the circus rider myself—caught in this surreal, almost dreamlike moment. This is... unbelievable.”

“You’ve earned this,” I said, my voice low. “And your audience will see that.”

Anthony smiled, clearly pleased by her reaction. “We’ll get the painting crated and ready for the art courier to pick up tomorrow morning. Everything will be handled professionally.”

Ella nodded, still staring at the painting. “That’s perfect. The museum’s insurance will only cover it that way.”

As she remained absorbed in the painting, I turned to Anthony and asked, “How have you been?”

He hesitated just for a moment before answering, his usual composed demeanor slipping slightly. “Still working through it,” he admitted. “Grief doesn’t move in a straight line. Some days are fine, others… not so much.”

I nodded, understanding the weight behind his words. “I can’t imagine how hard it’s been. If you ever need anything, just say the word.”

Anthony offered a faint smile, though his eyes carried the quiet grief of a man still learning how to live with loss. “I appreciate that, Lucas.” He exhaled, then straightened. “Work helps. This exhibit—it’s given me something to focus on.”

I clapped a hand on his shoulder, knowing words wouldn’t fix what couldn’t be fixed. “If you ever need a distraction, come visit.”

Anthony let out a low chuckle. “I’ll take you up on that.”

Ella turned back to us, curiosity lighting her features. “What’s next?”

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