Page 15 of Too Enchanting

“So, these are all works of the artists you’ll be showcasing?” I asked, walking to the backside of her studio, drawn there by a painting that was so colorful and so lifelike, yet had a feeling a great sadness to it.

Serena cleared her throat, but I was standing in front the painting, mesmerized.

“Yes, some of them,” she answered, her voice getting louder as she crossed to me. “Others are pieces that will be used daily in the gallery, while still on display and available to purchase … That’s why I want your table. For the gallery. It’s a gorgeous piece that should be on display, and if you’re willing I’ll commission it from you to sell.”

I turned my face to look down at her, startled.

“You want to display it in the gallery?”

Serena nodded, her eyes on the painting.

“Yes, it deserves to be seen. To be lauded.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I was humbled, and felt like a giant ass for being such a jerk about her wanting to purchase the table.

“Can I think about it?” I asked, even though I knew I should jump at the opportunity.

“Of course,” she replied, all business now.

And since we were here, and talking business, I turned my attention back to the painting and asked, “And this … will this piece be displayed and available to purchase in the gallery?”

I’d never purchased art before. I tended to keep my walls bare and focused on filling my house with wood and furnishings that I either made myself, or found during my searches.

“No,” Serena replied, her voice low and rough. “This one is mine. I’ve never had a showing of my art.”

It took me a moment to realize she didn’t mean it was her painting, as in she bought it, but rather, she was the artist.

I looked down at her, slightly dumbfounded. Every time I thought I had Serena pegged, another facet was revealed.