Page 45 of Waiting for Sunshine

My cheeks flush at his response. Even two thousand miles away, he finds ways to make me feel warm and giddy. Something I don’t think ever happened with Pete, even in the closest proximity. I bite my lip and toss my phone on the bed. Taking a deep breath, I try to focus on the task at hand – getting ready in under an hour. Fantastic.

* * *

The Gallerylooks breathtaking tonight. It’s always been one of my favorite places in San Francisco. It’s white everywhere you look, but not in a sterile way. Hugh opted for warm lights in all of the more relaxed areas, to give it a more intimate ambiance, only using more vivid lights around the paintings.

There are white sofas and armchairs to the left and right as soon as you walk in, with glass coffee tables in the middle, and white roses cover every single surface in here. They’re hanging from the ceiling, some are in giant planters in the entryway, and full bouquets are in glass vases on every cocktail table.

Waiters are in every corner passing out champagne, and the paintings being auctioned are in glass displays that make them look like they’re floating. The event is a silent auction on new-release paintings for the California Wildfire Prevention Foundation. Philanthropy is just another thing to add to the long list of reasons I love and miss working for Hugh.

“You ladies look lovely this evening.” The smooth swagger of his voice is impossible not to recognize. I quickly turn around and face Hugh.

“You’re one to talk,” I say, motioning a hand up and down Hugh’s body.

He’s wearing a black Hugo Boss suit with gold cufflinks, a white dress shirt, and a black bow tie. The pants of his suit are cropped, in his signature style. His dress shirt fits tightly across his chest and the suit jacket hugs his arms perfectly showing off the definition beneath.

He wears black Burberry loafers and a black and gold Versace watch to match. The simplest of outfits, still putting everyone else here to shame. His salt and pepper hair and beard are immaculately cut and styled, with his hair slicked back for the occasion.

“Ah well, you’re too kind, Shane. We sure do miss having you here.” Hugh says, leaning in to give me a hug. I graze his cheek with a kiss, before stepping back in line with Lauren.

“Hugh, this is Lauren, Lauren this is the infamous Hugh Burgess.” I take the chance to introduce them.

“Pleasure to meet you, Love,” Hugh says, winking at Lauren.

Umm... Okay.

I look over at Lauren, not missing the way her cheeks turn pink at his actions.

“Pleasure to finally meet you,” Lauren says back.

“Well if you’ll excuse me, I am going to make the rounds. Enjoy your evening. Shane, don’t leave without saying goodbye.” Hugh says as he backs away.

“I won’t,” I smile and wave as he turns away from us.

I turn to face Lauren, who is a lovely shade of red.

“Your face matches your dress,Love,” I tease, addressing the way Hugh just winked at herandgave her a nickname. Her floor-length red satin dress does nothing to hide what a bombshell she is. It hugs her body from her chest down to her hips, where it falls more loosely as it flows to the floor. The off-the-shoulder sleeves on it are the freaking cherry on top. She looks absolutely stunning.

“Let’s get some champagne, shall we.” She raises a brow, completely deflecting the conversation concerning Hugh. I narrow my gaze at her, letting her know this conversation isnotover. We finally come across a waiter and grab some champagne before making our way around the gallery.

I don’t bid on anything, seeing as how I have no money and no place to even display such gorgeous pieces of art, but I admire the hell out of each and every piece. When I make my way to the very back wall there is one piece of art that stops me in my tracks. I would recognize it anywhere, seeing as it’s one of mine. The piece I couldn’t find when I left a couple of months back. The piece that brought me back to life.

“I thought it was time.” His smooth voice says from behind me. I spin around, my eyes wet with emotion. Hugh stands there, looking like the proud mentor that he is.

“How did you –” I say, pointing at the painting. My voice catches on the lump in my throat, stopping my words from coming out.

“You left it here, on your last day. It must have gotten left in a different room when we moved things around a while back. When I found it I thought about calling you, letting you know it got left behind and that I would be more than happy to send it to you.” I turn to face the painting again, wiping a tear that falls.

“But then I thought about it a little longer… This is one of the most compelling pieces I have ever seen from such a young artist, Shane. I remember when you told me the inspiration behind it. I thought it was time the world saw it. Or at least the part of the world that walks through here today. I do hope that is alright with you.” Hugh says as he walks up closer to the painting.

This was the first piece I painted after my parents passed away. It’s a depiction of what I felt, of what I went through that first year. The bright yellow and vibrant sienna is soon overtaken by gloomy shades of brown before they deepen into the deepest black. Representation of the black hole I was drowning in as I started college, unable to share this new journey with them as I had always planned to.

The black soon begins to fade into a dark gray, then lighter gray, before hints of deep sapphire seep into the azure blue. Until the colors can compare to the clearest waters in the ocean. I found my way back out through the art I always shared with them. I was no longer drowning in my grief. I found a way to swim through it.

“Thank you, Hugh.” I hug him and wipe a tear from my eye. “Excuse me,” I say as I make my way to the bathroom to freshen up.

I look in the floor-length mirror, brushing my hair back out of my face. I smooth out the tulle from my dress and cock my head to the side, examining my look for the night.

A few weeks ago Lauren helped me pick out the most perfect gold dress for tonight. It has a corset-designed top that has silk rose details in it and bubble tulle sleeves. The bodice stops at my waist where the full tulle skirt drops, stopping just a few inches above my knees. She paired it with matching gold stilettos that I would have never picked out myself. But when it comes to fashion, you don’t argue with Lauren. Even if I look like a walking ray of sunshine.

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