Page 109 of Fresh Canvas
Either Val didn’t get the message this time, or he chose to ignore it. Instead, his russet eyes continued to watch me.
“I can’t do this,” I mumbled as pain pricked my eyes.
Not here. Not now.
“Amantha.” Kendra’s brisk voice assaulted me, providing theperfect distraction. I turned as she approached in a sleek black dress dripping with diamonds. “You’ve outdone yourself. Well, you and Blythe, I suppose. I predict this will be the event of the year.” Her thin lips twitched, like she forced a smile and failed miserably.
“Thank you, Kendra. That means… a lot.”
“Of course. And I’ve lost track of Val. Have you seen him recently?”
Was it just me, or did this woman always seem suspicious?
“Yes, I have. He’s over there.”
Kendra eyed my directional nod before giving me another failed lip twitch and walking away.
I chided myself for being distracted. This night was too important. Too special to let the likes ofhimget inside my head.
Blythe waved to me from across the crowd. Dressed in an emerald pantsuit that perfectly matched her shining eyes, she stood with her arm wrapped around a person whom I assumed was her date—a beautiful woman with chestnut hair and an animated smile.
Apologizing for the interruption, I introduced myself before grasping Blythe's elbow and whispering into her ear. My boss shook her head vehemently, gesturing instead for me to step onto the constructed platform. Eyes wide and hands shaking, I accepted the microphone she forced into them.
“This isyournight, Amantha. Make us proud,” Blythe said.
I hugged her tightly. “I will. Thank you for this opportunity, Blythe.”
I took a deep breath, stepped onto the platform, lifted the microphone, and began.
“To Lance Stirling’s guests and fans, we’d like to welcome you to The Chicago Legacy Art Museum. If the artist of honor would join me, we are about to reveal his never-before-seen masterpiece.”
Applause exploded while a few whistles reverberated throughout the hall, guests gathering in a sea of satin and neckties. Stirling’s auburn spikes bobbed through the crowd as heshook hands before climbing up beside me. Cameras flashed, scattering my vision as I tried to smile for them all. My eyes caught on the handsome man leaning against the back wall, a fresh glass of Prosecco in his hands.
I steeled my mind, forced another breath into my imprisoned ribs, and lifted the microphone again. “The museum was fortunate enough to commission one of Lance Stirling’s incredible pieces. After it has been revealed, the silent auction will begin. You may register your bids, as well as any donations, at the entrance of the hall. Proceeds will be donated to the artist’s charity of choice: Free Expressions.”
I turned to the elated young man beside me. “Stirling, would you do the honors?”
Snatching the microphone, Stirling said silkily, “I thought you’d never ask.” He winked at the expecting crowd, who quieted as he reached for the cloth covering the podium beside him.
With a swish of fabric, the stunning reveal resulted in a collective gasp and applause. Camera flashes assailed us both.
My jaw dropped.
The sculpture was a tree the size of a table lamp. Its trunk had been sculpted from winding clay around a black metal structure, whose iron shot out of the wood at random. Shattered green glass jutted atop the branches. The whole piece came alive with refracted light as cameras continued to flash.
The evening progressed as Stirling flitted from person to person. Guests plucked appetizers from trays laden with delicious choices. The auction was completed, one of the top-donating patrons winning the tree. People relaxed on loveseats, languishing among the art. Stirling seemed exhausted, the kind that only comes from adrenaline and joy.
I folded my arms over the glowing warmth in my chest.
“Ahem.” A deep voice cleared his throat from behind me. I knew it was Val without turning around—which I didn’t.
“Yes?” Ihatedthe small quiver in that word.
“You’ve… You’ve done a great job. I’m happy for you that Kendra and Blythe are seeing this,” Val murmured from over my shoulder.
That one compliment—that bleak reminder of the kindness Val was capable of—had an angry sob of abandonment threatening to break free.
Not here. Not now.
