Page 6 of Family Affair
Chapter 2
The opening night at La Vedova celebrated not only the start of a new show, but the actual reopening of the gallery at its new location. The move aimed to take the business to new heights, according to the owner, Rosa Sanchez.
And according to Coco Milroy, Rosa knew her business well.
Dan was already waiting for her when she drove up straight from work.
“Sorry, I’m late.”
“Only by a couple of minutes.” Dan leaned over and gave her a kiss on the side of her mouth.
Coco smiled into his brown eyes. Dan was undeniably attractive, a well-built, dark-haired man who wore his good breeding with plenty of self-assurance. A bit cocky, perhaps, but that only made him more interesting.
As they linked hands and walked inside, Coco mentally sorted through the events of today that culminated in her being late due to a reprimand from her boss Aaron.
She shouldn't be upset, Coco thought wryly. Aaron gave her reprimands every other day, which severely undermined the discipline's effectiveness.
“Charming.” Dan’s murmured comment brought her back to the present. He gave the gallery a sweeping glance and wrinkled his straight aristocratic nose with sharply defined nostrils.
“Rosa lives to impress,” Coco had to concede.
The gallery was flamboyant in an unsubtle, typical Rosa way. The Baroque styled décor, complete with gilded ornate moldings and brocade draperies, walked a thin line between a royal palace and bordello.
“And this is the place where you spend most of your weekends?” Dan looked pained at the prospect of spending one evening here.
“Yes.”
He looked at her askance. “For the amount of hours you volunteered at her gallery you get free champagne?”
“Rosa’s true to form,” was all Coco said. It wouldn't be Rosa if she helped a struggling artist.
The applause sounded, and the gallery owner took center stage, surrounded by easels with featured paintings. Dan frowned, and his expression turned puzzled when he beheld a huge canvas Rosa hawked as one-of-a-kind.
“What am I looking at?”
“Dan, this is museum quality art!” Coco whispered. “16thcentury Dutch tradition. The technique is outstanding.”
“A brown square with a bunch of fruit and a dead pheasant?” He shook his head. "Do you have to paint this kind of ugly stuff to be considered a real artist?”
Coco smiled. “Thankfully, no. I don’t think I could paint a dead bird.”
“Rosa should stick with you, then.”
An elderly arts expert took to the podium and spoke at length on the topic of avant-garde. His uninspiring lecture provided Coco with a convenient backdrop for sharing with Dan more about her plans.
“I know that Rosa prefers more flamboyant artists, with big names,” Coco said in a fast whisper, super excited to tell him how she wanted to achieve a showing of her own. “But I’ve finally made a decision to be proactive and…”
“I was just teasing, love,” Dan interrupted gently. “Of course she wants real artists. The gallery’s her business.”
Slowly, Coco closed her mouth as a curious feeling of being let down settled in her stomach. Telling herself that she was overreacting, she smiled and said nothing else.
After the formal part finally concluded, the crowd eagerly migrated toward the refreshment tables loaded with finger food and alcoholic beverages. Artists in attendance engaged small groups. She and Dan mingled with the crowd.
Coco’s looked over the works abundantly decorating the walls, basking in their beauty and the mastery of their creators. With Dan in tow, she inched slowly toward the adjoining room that housed sculpture and artistic pottery, intent on examining the new collection in finer detail. None of it was in Rosa’s preferred style, but grouped together they added a vibe that was fresh, interesting, and unique.
Dan was looking decidedly unimpressed by Ming-style vases and handmade Talavera bowls, but Coco was in heaven. She avidly perused the more extravagant pieces of wall art, taking note of an artistic drawing of some wicked creatures. It drew her eye with its forceful, look-at-me subject of exaggerated monstrosities. It was thought-provoking. And the artistry, oh, the artistry spellbound. Coco critically appraised the bold, sure lines drawn without hesitation and with absolute control. A sharply defined arc here, a twisting curve there. Just the right amount of pressure to shade the gaping mouth. A stunning work. Very manly. And she thought she recognized the distinct style.
“Good evening, dearest. Are you having a good time?” Rosa came up from behind, surprising Coco with an uncharacteristic familiarity.
