Page 51 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
“‘Jonas Fisher… New York, Boston, Los Angeles’ And now Collier’s Creek. They really should include the town, don’t you think?”
Lucian linked his arm through Arlo’s, stopping him from walking away from the gallery’s tasteful window display. He leaned in closer, peering at an ink drawing of two cowboys leaning on a wooden gate, the hands of one on the hips of the other.
“That’s very Brokeback Mountain,” he muttered. “I’m sure that wasn’t in the window the last time I looked.”
“Come on, I thought you wanted brunch.” Arlo gave him an encouraging tug to get moving, but Lucian wasn’t going anywhere. They’d stopped outside the gallery for a good reason, even if Arlo didn’t know it was for more than idle curiosity.
“Landscapes, as well as a healthy dose of homoeroticism. Yours are way better than those.” Lucian nodded to a couple of canvases. They were good, but Arlo’s were miles better.
Arlo gave a non-committal hum, but his eyes narrowed as he studied them, tipping his head one way and then the other. Unlinking his arm from Lucian’s, he took a step back before taking a step forward, scrutinizing the works from all angles. Lucian looked away to hide the smile he couldn’t contain any longer.
Movement behind the window display caught his attention. A tall, slender man in a classic navy blue suit was studying the displayed work on the walls. He turned, caught Lucian’s eye, and raised his lips in a reserved smile. Jonas Fisher himself, and he was on his own. It was now or never, and if it was going to be now, Lucian had to take matters into his own hands.
“Come on.” He grabbed Arlo’s arm, not leading him along the street and toward brunch, but bundling him into the gallery.
“Lucian! What the—”
But Arlo didn’t get any further as Lucian plastered himself against the door.
“You need to let people other than me see your paintings so they, too, can tell you how good you are.”
Arlo cursed under his breath.
“Gentlemen.” Jonas Fisher glided toward them, an amused twinkle in his eyes. “How may I help you?”
“Sorry, but we’re just leaving.” Arlo glowered at Lucian, who pulled up what he hoped was his sweetest smile.
“Really, but you’ve only just made an entrance.” Jonas smirked.
“Good morning.” Lucian held out his hand. “I’m Lucian Blaxston, and this is my friend Arlo McDonald. He’s an artist and extremely talented. We’d like your gallery to show his work.” Crisp and clear and confident, and cutting through the faint background music of mellow jazz. At least his voice wasn’t shaking, even if everything else about him was.
Jonas offered a small nod as he took Lucian’s hand in a light grip. “I’m always keen to promote and showcase local talent. I work by appointment only,” he said, flipping his attention to Arlo, “but I’m happy to book you in. In which medium do you work?”
“There’s been a miscommunication here. I do paint, but it’s just a hobby. As Mr. Blaxston knows. We’re sorry for intruding—”
“Acrylics and watercolors, mostly. Some oils.” Lucian shook off Arlo’s restraining arm. Plunging a hand into the hip pocket of his jeans, he pulled out his cell. “I’ve got some photos. I promise you’ll want to make an appointment when you see these.”
Lucian’s pulse was riding a rollercoaster. If Jonas Fisher offered them a bland smile and declared all appointments were booked until 2050… His pulse did a 180-degree turn before corkscrewing, then flipping over.
“Mr. Fisher, I apologize for my friend. His enthusiasm’s—”
“Well placed and fully deserved.” Jonas’ brows pulled together in concentration as he studied photo after photo. “I’d very much like to see more of your work. Can you bring in some canvases?” He scrolled through his phone. “Are you free on—”
Arlo held up his hands and took a step back. “I paint as a hobby, that’s all.”
“Mr. McDonald, these are not the works of a hobbyist. Believe me, I’ve seen enough hobby to know.”
“He’s always free, so any time will suit.” Lucian grinned, making sure not to catch Arlo’s eye.
With a date and time agreed, Lucian and Arlo were soon outside on the sunny sidewalk.
“What the hell just happened there?” Arlo blinked into the bright day. He looked dazed, as though a shrill alarm clock had dragged him out of sleep way too early.
“What happened was that somebody other than me and you is going to find out how amazing, brilliant, and downright bloody talented you are. I know you’re probably more than pissed off with me, but it was too good an opportunity to miss.”
“You shouldn’t have done it. I don’t like being forced into doing things I’m not comfortable with.”
