Page 143 of Fresh Canvas
Val’s velvety chuckle resounded in my phone. “For the last time, yes. But that still doesn’t stop me from being nervous.”
I swept a strand of hair back into my messy mom bun and leaned against the counter with a smile. “Be honest. How clean is your apartment floor right now?”
“Clean enough to eat off.”
I laughed, the warm glow in my chest spreading to my toes.
“Gosh I love you.”
“I love you too, Adams. Honestly, I can’t wait until I can stop calling you that. Why won’t you let me propose again?”
I feigned an exasperated sigh, happy he couldn’t see my doofy grin. “First thing’s first, Russo. If all goes well, you’ll have a ring on my finger soon enough. Don’t get your undies in a bunch.”
“Have you been thinking about my undies, Adams?” His voice dipped seductively.
A surprised laugh puffed my lips out. “What?! As if I’ve even seen them!”
“An oversight, don’t you think?”
Two pink splotches warmed my cheeks. I couldn’t wait toremedythatoversight. “On that note, I’m changing the subject. How far away are you, again?”
“About ten feet.”
I rushed to the living room window, my stomach fluttering as his eyes met mine through the glass pane. “And just how long have you been ten feet away?”
His eyes crinkled into my favorite smile, his phone pressed to his clean-shaven cheek. “A while.”
He wore a pair of perfectly tailored jeans—probably Nonna’s doing—and the sexiest fitted navy polo I’d seen to date. The October wind tousled his curls.
Nerves sped my pulse, a tiny bead of sweat forming on my lower back. “It’s going to be fine, right?” I whispered.
Val nodded wordlessly to me from the walkway. “More than fine, Angel. It’s going to be great.”
I swallowed. “Let’s do it.”
Val ended the call and stowed the phone in his pocket before giving me another small smile.
I left the window, indulging in a deep breath in front of the living room mirror. The hem of my oversized paint-splattered t-shirt brushed my leggings.
“It’s going to be great,” I whispered to myself.
The doorbell rang.
“Anthony, could you come here for a minute?”
Anthony had been home for weeks, and I swear he’d grown an inch since he got off the plane. Having him back felt like breathing oxygen into my body again. His arm had healed wonderfully, although he was bummed to throw out his buddies’ signatures when his cast came off.
The trip to Europe had been good for him. He now walked around with a budding sense of maturity—that is, as much maturity as a pubescent boy could have. Our fragmented family had somewhat settled into their new roles and boundaries.
Ryan, however, still required more boundaries than others.
Over the last few weeks back at the museum, I had moved into my new office—basically a storage room with a door. Blytheand Kate had been thrilled to have me back, and good old Rick even helped me clear out the dusty boxes that had been stored in my office. Thankfully, no more forged canvases were discovered in the process.
After everything was settled, Val helped me hang my vibrant hummingbird painting above my desk. I stood back, wrapped in the arms of my future, smiling at my past. Who once was a young girl in a dusty white tent was now a full-fledged art curator.
Unlike my budding career, Barbara’s “freelancing” came to an unfortunate demise. After a proper investigation, the authorities had uncovered so much more than Lake Attersee, which she later admitted had been a sort of trophy after being fired. Barbara had only attended the Felix Andreas gala to watch everyone fawn over a fake.
In addition to the botched Cormac Padraig robbery, Barbara and multiple accomplices—one being a museum security guard—pled guilty to three accounts of grand larceny and two other attempts. Her nationwide “curating” had given her access to hundreds of museums.
