Page 64 of A Small Town Spring

“Oh, it’s our girl, Ivy,” Nathan says jovially.“Where’s your gorgeous girlfriend tonight, then?”

“Ivy and I broke up months ago, Dad,” Toby says.“Though she was here earlier.”He glances at me, and I try hard not to betray any envy.“She had to go—had a date.”

A date?I like the sound of that.

“You broke up?Are you mad?”Nathan’s voice is scornful and disbelieving.“She was the best thing that ever happened to you.Smart, beautiful, rich.You run around on her?”

“No, Dad, I did not run around on her,” Toby says tightly.“Our relationship had simply run its course.”

“Well, fine, then,” Nathan says in an injured tone.“Pardon me for taking an interest in your love life.”

My jaw drops at the effrontery of that statement, but Toby doesn’t snap back the way I would.I’m having a hard time not wanting to throw Nathan out for ruining what should be a fun celebratory night for his son.

Instead, Toby just says, “So that’s it.That’s the show.”

“Never got into portraits, myself.”It’s clear Nathan is the kind of person who constantly needs to steer the conversation back to him.

“They are trulyincredible,” Sally says, waving a slim feathered arm around.“You clearly earned all the accolades that have been trickling across the pond, Tobias.”Tobias?My skin crawls at the presumptuous familiarity of Sally Fieldstone, even if I can’t fault her for loving Toby’s work.

“He’s our star,” Fernanda says proudly.“This is the beginning of a long, lustrous career.”

“Is thisyou?”Sally says, noticing my portrait for the first time.

“It is,” I confirm, even though it should be obvious.

She looks back and forth from the picture to my face.“Extraordinary.Absolutely extraordinary.Fernanda, I will paydoublewhatever your best offer for this one is.”

“Excuse me?”Why would this random woman want to buy a picture of me?

“It’s sopure.The love shines through it.”

I frown.I happen to agree, and it galls me that the annoying art lady sees it, too.But that’s the power of Toby’s work.

“I’ll pay triple,” I say, having no idea what I’m offering.No way is this painting going to her.

Fernanda titters.“Oh, my.”

“Bidding war on opening night,” Nathan says, grinning slyly at Toby.“Well done, you.Not bad for a couple of days of work, eh?”

“Quadruple.Ihaveto have it,seriously,” Sally says, touching Toby’s arm and curling her fingers around his bicep.I have to restrain myself to merely staring daggers at her instead of slapping away her hand.

Toby twitches out of her grasp but says nothing—not about the fight over my portrait, not about his father’s insulting insinuations about his work.I telepathically urge him to stand up to his dad, maybe to tell Fernanda the picture isn’t for sale at any price.

Instead, he turns and walks out.

Thirty-One

Toby

It may be mid-March,but now that it’s gone dark, the street outside the gallery seems cold.Perhaps winter isn’t over quite yet.I thought tonight would both be a culmination and a kickoff.I couldn’t wait to show off my work and also show off Kingston, so proud to be the one he’s chosen to be with.

But I just feel sad.

Because my father didn’t show up to my opening to be supportive, or to show his love, or to congratulate me on my hard work and wish me success.

He came because he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be a threat to his own sense of superiority and success, or, barring that, to let some of my hot new artist fairy dust rub off on him.

I hate that I was happy to see him, only for a minute, before he opened his mouth and confirmed all of my worst suspicions.And I hate that Kingston will know what kind of man I spring from.The kind of man I could easily turn into if I’m not careful.

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