Page 46 of Fresh Canvas
Felix Andreas had been born in the early eighteen hundreds. An artistic expression soon swept across Europe, where artists became motivated to capturereallife, not strictly nobility or religion. Felix had been one of the most notable realists of his time.
Perhaps that was what spoke so deeply to me. Felix’s paintings were scenes from his own life, people he knew, and things he simply found beautiful. Instead of distortions or mere suggestions of the subject, his paintings were precise in their accuracy. He seemed so real to me, like a kindred spirit born in a different century.
I passed my empty champagne glass to a vested waiter as Iapproached the back of the exhibition. The hall was darker here, though each painting still shone under individual spotlights. Felix’s art swept me into its quiet, peaceful current, carrying me from painting to painting.
The windswept face of a woman. An infant wrapped in a shawl. A snow-covered barn.
I wanted to stay here forever.
A dark figure emerged from the shadows to my right. Swathed in a fitted black tuxedo, Val held his own glass full of champagne. Of course he would look perfectly at ease in formal wear. His rich brown curls brushed the top of his brows as a slight shadow slid across his jawline. He could have easily walked off the set of a ritzy cologne commercial and I’d believe it.
My eyes caught on the small pamphlet protruding from his chest pocket.
Last night, the office villain had selflessly sat forhours, folding them beside me until well after midnight. I still couldn’t get the sound of his laugh out of my head.
“Hello, Adams.” Val’s dark gaze swept over me, flushing me with heat. “You look…nice.”
“Thanks, Russo. You looknicetoo, I guess.”
His smile lifted. “Wow, look at us being so civil. Who would have thought?”
“Not me.” I laughed awkwardly. For some reason,thisside of Val almost felt more dangerous than his prickly one.
Silence ensued, turning us to the painting. A blistering sun bore down on a weathered man, presumably a farmer. His face was pained and dripping with sweat.
Beautiful.
As the minutes passed, however, the nervous tingle in my stomach intensified. Even though he stayed silent, Val was distracting me. The exhibition was large—plenty to see elsewhere. Did he have to standhere? I moved on to the next portrait. Val followed.
Maybe he did get a lobotomy after all.
I squared my shoulders at him, deciding to put an end to whatever was happening. “Did you need something, Russo?”
Val shrugged. “No, I just like this painting, that’s all.”
“This one? In particular? Why?” I crossed my arms over my chest and nodded toward the painting. “Tell me about it.”
Val’s eyes widened before a cocky smile rounded his lips. He traced the golden nameplate beside the painting.
Wanderndes Mädchen (Wandering Girl), Felix Andreas, oil on canvas.A mischievous young girl smiled over her shoulder at us, walking barefoot down a dusty path. Her long auburn hair was unkempt, and a smudge of dirt lined the adorable crease of her smile. Two apron strings trailed behind her in the dust, never quite able to keep up with her.
Val said, “This piece is rumored to be of Felix’s little sister. It was his first widely acclaimed painting, mostly because he hadn’t shown all his work to the public before this one.”
My lips tightened to conceal my grin while I allowed Val to finish his half-baked story. Once he finished, I flashed him a saccharine smile.
“Nice try, buddy. This wasn’t hisfirstacclaimed painting; it was his second. Lake Attersee was his first. And this isn’t Felix’s sister—it’s his niece. I mean, correct me if I’m wrong. After all,you’rethe curator...” With a sigh, I pretended to inspect my fingernails. “And I’m just an assistant.”
Val’s gaze met mine, seeming both amused and annoyed.
“No, you’re more than an assistant, and you know it. You’re a sassy know-it-all with a stubborn streak to match.”
“Watch it, Russo. That almost sounded like a compliment. You need to be more careful.”
“Careful? What?” Val walked right into my trap with a confused expression.
My wicked laugh brought me to my full, unimpressive height as I used his words from last night against him.
“Well, we wouldn’t want you falling formeand my sassy stubbornness, now would we?”
