Commissioned In White (Art of Love Series) (15 page)

Carrie nodded. “I’m sorry if this was a bad way for you to find out about these,” she said quietly.

Reesa laughed, and then was amazed she could laugh. “Shane just probably forgot. For all the amazing things he gets done in his life, he’s not the most organized person in the world. He just puts his guts full out into everything and lets the universe work out the details. I guess that’s what I bring to my relationship with him. I know how to be organized. I could do a better job of keeping him on track if I gave him more attention.”

She sniffled, and carefully restacked the precious few she’d selected. They were a reminder of what Shane brought to her in the relationship.

Passion. Love. Desire. The chance to be someone’s dream woman.

They were also concrete proof to Reesa that Shane had been telling her the truth when he said he’d fallen in love with her that night.

Reesa saw Carrie smile at her in understanding.

“All men need a keeper, but the Larson men are a unique breed. It takes a special kind of woman to live with an artistic man,” Carrie said.

“I don’t know yet how good I am for Shane, but these drawings have convinced me he was telling the truth all along about loving me,” Reesa said, choking on the words.

“If there is one thing I’ve learned about the Larson men, they are truthful to a fault,” Carrie said.

“Do you need me to help pick out the twenty you’ll use?” Reesa asked.

“No,” Carrie said with a grin. “The ones I want to use are already marked with a tiny star in one corner. I don’t think you took any of the ones I picked out. Let me just gather the ones I’m not using up, and you can take the folder home with you.”

Reesa shook her head. “No. Keep those until Shane can pick them up. I’ll just keep these few, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Carrie said, giving in to the urge to comfort and hug the stunned woman. “While you get the weekly receipts from the office, I’ll just clear you some space to work in here.”

Reesa nodded and walked from the room, still clutching the pictures she’d chosen tightly.

After she’d gone, Jessica came into the room again, abandoning her post in the doorway. “Well, that was interesting.”

“And illuminating,” Carrie said, trying not to laugh.

“For us or Reesa?” Jessica asked, laughing very softly at the irony.

“I would say both,” Carrie concluded. “Help me finish this before she comes back. I’m sure this is all very upsetting for her.”

“Oh, I’d say you have a while before she comes back,” Jessica said softly. “My guess is Reesa is in your office right now looking at the orgasm pictures and trying to decide which ones are the most realistic. I think she’s also going to have a hard time waiting for Shane to come home tonight.”

Carrie let one loud laugh out and then clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the rest of the laughter.

“Well, wouldn’t you be thinking about it if Michael had drawn you that way?” Jessica asked.

“Michael’s art is all abstract, and I’m suddenly very glad,” Carrie said sincerely. “And I already spent several hours looking at the orgasm pictures of Reesa. Michael called them porn, but he was teasing. He said Shane’s drawings are more accurate than a photograph. I think I agree with him.”

Jessica started gathering up all the drawings not marked with a star. “Well, you know what they say. One man’s porn. . .” she began with a grin.

“. . .is another man’s art,” Carrie finished. “Drake’s art has been labeled porn as well, but you can see the love he had for his wife and his admiration of her beauty.”

“My art had been labeled porn as well,” Jessica said calmly, not the least offended. “I think now I’d be disappointed if my art didn’t get that kind of reaction.”

“In another day and age, Will’s art would have been considered that too—
was
actually,” Carrie said. “Now his art is cloaked in the dignity of imitating the classics. Let’s hope a future time doesn’t see some censorship mob chiseling the penises off all his statutes.”

“I can’t even bear the thought,” Jessica said, shuddering for real. “Even owning the original, the idea still bothers me.”

“You mean those penises are self-portraits of Will’s equipment?” Carrie teased, fascinated that it might be the case.

“Of course not,” Jessica lied blatantly, forcing a laugh out even as she cursed her loose tongue. “I was joking. They’re modeled after the original David, but I love to tease him.”
And Will Larson will kill me if he thinks for one moment that I’ve revealed his truth to the world via his art gallery-owning daughter-in-law.

“Well, one thing’s for certain,” Carrie said firmly, admiring the drawings that remained spread out on the table. “Artists are not appreciated nearly enough. I think our guys are lucky that they make enough money from their art to continue to do it.”

“Only because of people like you, and that’s a fascinating set of drawings you have picked out,” Jessica said, admiring the story they told. “You can see Shane’s thoughts evolving about her.”

“Exactly. I’m going to call it
Commissioned In White: An Artistic Search For Love
,” Carrie said.

“There are only nineteen drawings,” Jessica said, counting again. “Where’s the twentieth one?”

“Michael’s working on it,” Carrie told her. “We’re waiting on a picture from Reesa’s nephew, Brian. The last piece is larger than these and will go in the center. He and Michael are doing it as a joint project. Their combined work will be the last one in the set. For the opening this weekend, I’m just going to hang a white canvas with TBD in black letters on it.”

“Now I’m simply buzzing with anticipation,” Jessica said. “And you are ten times more creative than you give yourself credit for.”

“We’ll see,” Carrie said, basking in Jessica’s praise. “But I am feeling pretty good about this display. I just hope the newest Larsons are going to be okay with the collage after I get it done.”

Chapter 9

The day of the gallery opening was cold and dreary, but there was no snow and no cancelled flights into town. Carrie only hoped the loyalty she’d garnered over the years would bring willing clients to see her and the gallery despite weather challenges.

Michael had suggested buying two electric fireplaces, which they had done out of personal funds and increased the warm atmosphere in the space.

Combined with the installed lighting adjusted for maximum effect, the gallery was looking magical.

In her black silk dress and heavy pearls, Carrie walked through the gallery slowly, touching each display with wonder. Her heart was filled with gratitude for all the blessings in her life that had made this day possible. It was now just one hour before the official opening. The wine was breathing, and the refreshments had only to be unwrapped and served, though she’d stolen a few earlier to stave off her pregnant hunger.

“How many more times are you going to pace around this place? You know you’re going to be on your feet all night. You need to sit for as long as you can,” Michael chastised, walking to his starry-eyed wife.

“Can’t,” Carrie said. “Too nervous to sit. What if people can’t find the place?”

“With that giant new sign out front that Jessica made? It would be hard to miss it,” Michael said. “Lighting it was a great idea.”

Carrie sighed. “Thank you, Michael. Thank you for helping me make this dream happen.”

Michael laughed softly. “All I did was rub your feet and make sure you took your medicine. You did all the real work and you know it.”

“Okay,” she said. “Then thank you for believing in me.”

“You’re welcome for that,” he said, reaching out to kiss her. “You’re going to have to fix your mouth again after I get done.”

Carrie laughed and let him kiss her, taking it much further than was proper in a public place. She didn’t even stop him when his hand slid down to her backside and held it in place against the arousal he didn’t even try to stop from happening.

“I have the world’s worst timing with you two,” Drake said, walking softly across the floor to them.

Michael sighed and pulled away. “That’s because you need a woman, Barrymore.”

“You may just be right, Larson,” Drake agreed, thinking of the woman he’d been thinking about for weeks now. He’d skipped attending Jessica’s wedding because of Brooke and regretted his cowardice ever since because he really wanted to see her again.

Before he’d finished speaking, Michael’s attention shifted to the door. “There’s Dad and Jessica now,” he said. “Carrie, let’s get some wine into the artists as they come in. I think it would good for us to be relaxed before the clients show up.”

“Good thinking,” she said, taking his hand and dragging him away with her.

Drake looked in the direction of the door, his countenance falling when the only people he saw were Jessica and Will.

Not that Jessica in her beaded green dress and heels wasn’t stunning. She just wasn’t Brooke. And he wasn’t even sure why that mattered. It shouldn’t have mattered.

“Wow—who would have thought you could look that amazing in something other than jeans and boots,” Drake teased, holding a hand out to shake Will’s as Jessica gave him a little hug. “I’m very sorry I missed your wedding. You two look really happy together.”

“Are you here alone?” Jessica asked.

Drake nodded. “Afraid so. You planning to ditch your new husband and spend the evening with me.”

Will snorted and stood straighter, making sure Barrymore felt as short as possible next to him.

“No,” Jessica said, laughing at her husband. “I’m offering to fix you up later.”

“Well, tonight I just might let you,” Drake said. “I’m feeling open to new experiences.”

“Hold that thought and we’ll see if she shows up,” Jessica said lightly.

Shane and Reesa came in holding hands, and there was another couple not holding hands with them.

“Hello, stranger,” Jessica said, leaning into Shane for a kiss on the cheek. “I see your wife, but I never see you. Who’s with the kids tonight?”

“Mom,” Shane said. “She said she’d come by the gallery later in the week.”

Will nodded. “Glad you brought more people.”

“Dad, this is Jillian Lansing. Jillian, my father Will and my stepmother Jessica,” Shane said.

“I think we saw each other at the courthouse, but didn’t get to visit much,” Will said, smiling at her firm handshake.

“No—we didn’t,” Jillian replied, shifting her handshake to Jessica. “But I feel like I know you. Shane talks about you both so much—all good, mind you. Then there’s Sara, who admires your big bike.”

“Ah yes…
Princess Sara
,” Will said.

“She’s all tucked in and happy with
Queen Melon
tonight,” Jillian said easily, making Will and Jessica laugh.

“Joseph,” Will said, holding out his hand. “You’re looking rather spiffy this evening. How did Shane talk you into wearing a suit?”

“He promised me beer of course,” Joe said, grinning at Will. He’d always admired Will and envied Shane his father. His own father cared only for his second family. That had been the case when he’d first met Shane and was even truer today.

“How’s work going?” Will asked.

“Good enough,” Joe said. “It’s starting to slow down some now that winter’s coming. I’m looking for more inside work.”

“I may have some for you,” Will said. “We want to take out a wall between the kitchen and dining area.”

“Call me, and I’ll come have a look,” Joe said, taking the glass of wine he was offered.

Will pulled Drake into the conversation with Joe.

Later, Reesa introduced Drake to Jillian, and he spent a few minutes chatting with both beautiful women.

Then clients started arriving and Drake got caught up answering questions about his paintings. He was still feeling sorry for himself that Brooke hadn’t shown up when across the room Carrie lifted two fingers and pointed at him. He knew that meant she’d already sold two of his paintings, which made a total of three since he’d known her, and more than he’d sold in the last five years by himself.

He lifted his wine glass to her in salute and sipped as she smiled knowingly. Not for the first time, he marveled at how elegant Carrie Larson was and that it was too bad Michael Larson had found her first.

“Lusting after my sister-in-law?” a husky voice asked behind him. Drake turned to see Brooke standing near him in a blue silk pant suit that fit her curves and matched her eyes. His heart started a drum beat that he hadn’t heard in many years.

“Lusting, no, but admiring—yes. She just signaled that she’s sold two of my paintings. I haven’t sold that many on my own in several years. Being an art whore, I’m her slave for life now,” Drake said, watching Brooke smile at his self-effacing joke over the rim of his glass.

“Is that all it takes to satisfy you?” Brooke asked, stepping even closer, making sure Drake smelled her perfume. And she wished in that moment, oh how she wished, that she could take one more step into him and put her mouth on his to see if it would be as good as it had been the first time.