Page 6 of Tides of Redemption
I rocked back on my heels. “News travels fast.”
He chuckled. “My wife stopped at The Coffee Cove this morning.” He hesitated, then asked, “I know you’re new here,but I don’t suppose you have any connections with the other art galleries in town? I’ve been trying to place prints of my Seacliff Cove scenes. Extra income never hurts.” He shrugged. “But no luck so far. And most of the gift shops sell trinkets and kitsch rather than artwork.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I helped him load the wrapped paintings into his SUV.
Todd extended his hand again. “Thanks for the opportunity to show here. I hope you’ll consider another exhibition in the future.”
As I watched him drive away, an idea began to form. But I needed to see more of the bookstore first.
During my lunch break, I walked the short blocks to Tides & Tales. The bell chimed above the door, and my heart did its usual stutter when I saw Mason at the counter. He looked better than he had this morning—some color back in his cheeks, though still tired around the eyes.
I wandered the store, taking in details I’d missed before. An events room took up a corner, its wide, high walls decorated with book cover posters. With track lighting, it could easily display paintings.
“What are you doing?”
I turned to find Mason watching me, arms crossed. Even defensive, he was magnificent.
“I have a business proposition for you.” I kept my voice professional, though my pulse quickened. “I just met a local artist. He does incredible watercolors of Seacliff Cove. Tourist-friendly artwork.”
Mason’s eyebrows drew together. “So?”
“So, you have these gorgeous walls.” I gestured to the space. “You could display his originals, sell his prints. It would bring in new customers, create an additional revenue stream?—”
“I don’t need your charity.” His voice went sharp. “I’m doing just fine.”
“It’s not charity.” I forced myself to stay calm, though his words stung. “It’s business. Good business. He needs exposure. You need foot traffic. It’s a natural collaboration. I’d help you.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it standing up. I suppressed a smile. Some things never changed.
“I’m not an art gallery.”
“No, but you’re a community and tourist hub.” I took a careful step closer. “Just meet with him. See his paintings.”
Mason’s jaw worked. I could almost see him running the numbers in his head, weighing pride against practicality.
“Please?” I added softly.
He sighed. “Fine. When?”
“I have the Beaumont show opening this afternoon, but I can arrange something after closing?” Hope fluttered in my chest. “Gallery closes at five, you close at six…”
He sighed. “Set it up for six-thirty.”
I nodded and headed for the door before he could change his mind. As I walked back to the gallery, my steps felt lighter. It wasn’t much, but it was a start—a way to help both Mason and Todd, and maybe, just maybe, a gateway back into Mason’s guarded heart.
Now I just had to make it work.
CHAPTER SIX
Mason
I stared at the day’s sales figures until my head ached. The numbers were even worse than yesterday’s. Tourist season was months away, and at this rate… I sighed from deep within my gut as I checked my phone again. 6:25. They’d be here soon. Through the windows, I could see that darkness had descended. My stomach churned with equal parts dread and anticipation.
The bell above the door chimed. A man walked in, carrying a large, wrapped canvas and a portfolio case. I relaxed slightly at the sight of him—I recognized the man, Todd Matthews, as a loyal customer. He’d bought every book on California coastal history I’d ordered in the past year, always chatting about local architecture and the town’s heritage. I just hadn’t known he was the artist with whom I was meeting.
Caleb followed, and my chest tightened. He’d changed clothing for the gallery opening, his charcoal-gray suit making him look every inch the sophisticated curator. But when he smiled at me, I caught a glimpse of the art student who used to sketch in the margins of his textbooks. Who had painted long into the night.
“Thanks for staying late,” Todd said, propping the canvas carefully against the counter. “I brought a few things to show you.”
