Page 72 of Surfside Sisters

Eloise smiled. “Lord, yes. You were fourteen, fifteen, and you draped yourselves in layers of black, wore mahogany nail polish and lipstick and kohl eyeliner, and such high heels I knew you’d break your ankles.”

“But we didn’t break our ankles. We were terribly grown-up and sophisticated, sauntering around with artists and the summer visitors who could afford to buy the paintings.”

“Yes, and you also managed to snag a forbidden glass of wine.”

“We did not!”

“Of course you did. I smelled it on you when you got home.”

“Well, it was champagne. Or prosecco. Anyway, we didn’t make fools of ourselves.”

“I suppose not. You two were such beautiful girls. You both wore your hair down your back almost to your waist.”

Keely laughed at the memory. Tonight she was wearing an apple green slip dress with an orange and gold shawl that brought out the flecks of gold in her eyes. Her mother wore slacks and a trendy geometric black and white top that Keely had given her for Christmas.

They turned onto India Street and in a few steps were at Kathleen Knight’s gallery.

“We’re here, Mom,” Keely said. “Come on.”

Reluctantly, Eloise followed Keely up the stairs. The gallery was a large, airy space with high walls displaying paintings and tables set here and there to hold sculptures. Dozens of people were studying the exhibits while sipping wine. Keely quickly scrutinized the crowd. She didn’t see anyone she knew, and was oddly disappointed by that.

Suddenly, Daphne Hayes rushed up to Eloise. “Eloise! I’m so glad to see you! I’ve missed you at our lunches, and I have loads to tell you.” Before Eloise could object, Daphne said, “Keely, if you don’t mind, I’m going to steal your mother away for a minute.”

“Of course.” Keely was as happy as if her mother were a toddler greeted by a friend in a playgroup. She took a glass of prosecco and strolled around the gallery, studying the art.

In the corner, beneath glass, a display case showed pieces of scrimshaw, an art form from the days when sailors on the whaling ships passed the time finely engraving the bone and teeth of the whales with scenes from the ocean, the boat, and their memories of home.

Keely bent over the case, admiring the workmanship of the three minutely detailed square-rigged whaling ships. She’d always considered this work, requiring such concentration and skill, similar to writing a novel. She couldn’t produce a novel all at once, with the broad sweeping strokes of a Pollock. She had to create her books carefully, a bit at a time. Just so with scrimshaw. Although, she admitted, she had the ability to erase and rewrite, to cut and paste, or toss out and begin again. With scrimshaw, the slightest slip could ruin a work.

“So you’re interested in scrimshaw,” a man said. “I never would have guessed.”

Startled—sheknewthat voice—Keely looked up. Next to the display case stood Sebastian. He was tall and lean and his eyes were a startling blue against his tan. He seemed more grown-up than when she last saw him. His shoulders were so broad…

“Sebastian!” Flustered, knowing she was blushing, Keely babbled, “Yes, I do like scrimshaw, although I don’t own any. Didn’t I read somewhere that because whales are an endangered species, carving on whale teeth or bone is illegal? I certainly hope the artist, who I think is amazing, but anyway, I hope he or she is aware of the laws.”

“I am,” Sebastian said quietly, with a gentle smile.

“You are what?” Was she going mad? She was so attracted to Sebastian she wanted to lean up and kiss him, hard and long.

“I am aware of the laws. Because I’m the artist.”

“What?”

“I’m a scrimshander. The whale teeth in the case are all over one hundred years old and legally documented.” He rested a possessive hand on the back of the case. “They’re expensive, which is why this case is locked.”

“I had no idea,” Keely said.

Sebastian shrugged. “I was working on resin when I was in high school. I was obsessed with this particular art.”

“Doesn’t it take forever to complete?”

“It does.” Sebastian leaned close, smiling down at her. “But I like to do things slowly and surely. I like to take my time.”

Keely went hot all over.

He grinned mischievously.

Keely went weak at the knees.

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