Page 50 of After Indigo Irish Nights
None of the six bullet points she’d listed seemed big enough now. She decided to be dramatic and threw it over her shoulder. Donal spurted out a laugh along with the others.
“Talk, cowboy,” she said, waving at Linc. “I know you have more in that crazy head of yours.”
“You’re in a growth spurt,” he said, his blue eyes gleaming with delight. “You now have nearly two million euros to the center’s name, and that’s public info once we put it up on the new website. That kind of dough will attract attention. Bets already has a whole bunch of artists sending in their portfolios and resumes, asking about a residency. I went through all the applications last night.”
So had Bets, seeing that they’d agreed to talk about them today. “I’d planned to present my top ten for everyone to consider. What did you think?”
“I like Harrison the painter to start,” Linc said. “He’s had some major shows in Europe.”
“He’s on my list too,” Bets confirmed.
“Angie likes his work,” Carrick said after glancing at his notes. “About the man, she’s heard mixed things.”
“He might be a dick is what you’re saying,” Linc said, nodding, “which could be trouble. You want someone who’s going to do incredible work here, sure, but you also want them to love what they do like crazy and sing that from the rafters. I’m going to propose something out of the ordinary.”
Eoghan patted his hair down. “I find I’m liking this talk very much. It’s more excitement than we’ve had in Caisleán in an age.”
Bets had to laugh. “Shoot, Linc.”
“I think we go after one of the most talented andnicestartists in the world.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his suede jacket and folded it like a paper airplane before flying it across the table toward Bets.
“Cute,” she said dryly as she caught it.
“We land her—or someone like her—we open up the center to thecrème de la crèmeof the art world. We can still bring in newbies and rising artists. My Ellie and others have benefited from that model, after all. Truth be told, we’ll get more donors if we have some artists who are already top tier. More private funding. More prized pieces in the museum we’re planning.”
Bets unfolded the paper and read the brief bio. Accompanying it was a picture of a woman in her mid-thirties with brown hair, an open smile, and warm green eyes. “Sophie Giombetti. She’s a glass artist.”
“Sophie is also the daughter of a couple of world-renowned artists, which is one of the reasons she skyrocketed to fame at twenty-one after a series of glass installations in New York and Europe’s finest capitals.”
He tossed Bets another paper. Sophie was standing under giant colorful ribbons of glass in a large modern room, overhead lights raining color from the glass over her entire body. “Wow! It’s like Candyland or something.”
The others exclaimed as she passed the papers around.
“Well, candy is about right,” Linc said. “She’s known for being a sweetheart, and having run into her over the years, I can attest it’s the honest truth. She’s also known for baking museum or gallery staff chocolate chip cookies to say thank you for making sure everything comes off with a bang.”
“That sounds in line with our community,” Jamie said as others nodded.
Bets wasn’t sure grateful cookie baking was going to sell her. “I’d want to meet her.”
“Of course!” Linc opened his hands. “I thought you might like to go to Saint-Paul de Vence with me and meet her in person. She’s working there right now.”
“Where’s that?” Nicola asked.
“France,” Jamie answered.
Linc gave them one of his shit-eating grins. “Good man. Provence specifically. It’s a big art town not too far from Cannes, where the big film festival is held. I also happen to know Sophie has a highly talented six-year-old girl and is looking for a nice, quiet community as a change of pace. I thought Ireland might work for her.”
“Her daughter would be more than welcome in our school,” Jamie added before Bets could say anything.
“How do you know her?” Donal asked.
“I first met her when I was on the board of the Metropolitan Museum and then later at a few shows in Europe. The art world is small, so it’s not uncommon to run into the same people. Sometimes that’s not a good thing, but in this case it was. Sophie never chatted me up about money or buying her work. We talked about how the art world is filled with sharks and later about being single parents.”
Did he like the woman?Bets wondered. He’d said she was in her thirties, but it wasn’t unusual for a man to form an interest in a younger woman. “I can visit her with you whenever you think plausible.”
“I thought Eoghan might be a good addition to our visit,” Linc said, turning toward him. “You’re a great ambassador for Caisleán, and your new love for art has incredible charm.”
Eoghan flushed crimson but he brazened it out by puffing up like a rooster and saying, “And I’ve bigger muscles now from our boxing training. She won’t be able to resist me.”
