Page 45 of Fresh Canvas
I met my gray eyes in the mirror and frowned. Hadn’t I been trying to climb out of the box Ryan had caged me in this whole time?
So, I bought the dress.
And the red lipstick Kate suggested too.
Maybe my previous boss, Barbara Gaines, had been right this whole time. Perhaps red lipstick was the key to confidence after all.
While I nodded amicably at passing gala guests, I did a double take toward the entrance. My jaw dropped. The woman herself, my long-lost mentor and lipstick connoisseur, happened to walk into my field of view. Seeing Barbara striding through the museum again was like turning back the clock.
“Ms. Gaines!” I couldn’t help calling toward Barbara, lifting the long hem of my gown as I walked. “Hello!”
Barbara hadn’t aged a bit, besides perhaps a slight deepening of the fine lines in her ebony skin. Her coiled black hair was swept high on her head in an intricately braided bun, a forest green gown dripping off her shoulders. That ever-present red lipstick shone against her bright smile.
“Amantha? Is that you?” Her amber eyes dipped over me. “What a wonderful surprise! What are you doing here?”
Breathless from surprise and slight intimidation, I acceptedher small hug and said, “I, uh, work here now.Again.” I laughed. “I started back six months ago.”
“That’s fabulous! Good for you. You were so talented; I was sad to see you go. How old is your son now?”
“Anthony is ten.” I couldn’t stop staring. “I tried to find you when I came back to the museum, but they said you had left.”
Barbara chuckled, low and silky. “That’s sweet of you, Amantha. I chose to move on from here a few years back. Unfortunately, I needed more opportunities than this place could offer. I guess you could say I’m a freelance curator now. In fact, my latest collaboration was with the Abstract Impressions Museum in New York.”
“That’s incredible, Ms. Gaines!” I always knew she was destined for greatness.
“Thank you, Amantha. It was some of my best work, I believe.” Barbara smiled warmly. “I’m sorry, I’ve just seen someone Imusttalk with, but please keep in touch. It was wonderful to see you again.” She placed a glossy business card in my palm before gliding away.
I watched her head straight for Kendra as I slipped the card into my small, jeweled clutch.
“Amantha!” Kate’s bright voice rang out.
I turned to see my raven-haired friend slinking over in a strapless, curve-hugging black gown. Her long hair had been plaited into a complicated heavy braid that draped over one shoulder. The thigh-high slit in Kate’s dress parted as a stiletto poked through.
“You wore the lipstick!” Kate beamed, her coal-dark eyes shining.
“I did!” I lowered my voice, leaning closer to whisper, “Except, I still feel weird in this dress. And I didn’t even know that backless bras were a thing!”
“Technology, am I right?” Kate shimmied her shoulders at me.
“Kate!” I admonished with a laugh. “Have you forgotten we’re at work?”
Kate responded by sweeping two glasses of sparkling champagne from a passing waiter’s tray.
“Yeah, but with booze!” She handed me a glass. “Kendra assigned me to shmooze potential donors, so I’m gonna need at least two of these to survivethatmuch small talk.”
I laughed, shaking my head at her. “Well, you look incredible. That dress is amazing.”
Kate swept her heavy braid over her shoulder and aimed a clinical expression at her black satin gown.
“Yeah, I guess. Grandma Chen would probably be laughing in her grave if she could see me.” A devious grin tipped her mouth. “But only because my mom would be having a heart attack, the prude.”
Kate grasped my hand, turning me around to check all angles of my gown. “Fire. Complete fire. If you don’t end tonight with a guy following you around, I’ve failed you.” She waggled her eyebrows seductively and sauntered away.
If Kate had intended to boost my confidence, it backfired. I wasn’t ready for romance by any means. Red lipstick or not, I still was a hot mess mom underneath it all—a mom whose son was far across the Atlantic with my cheating ex-husband and his mistress.
I tipped the rest of my champagne down my throat.
As I wandered the hall, my mind relaxed and my anxiety softened. I couldn’t be sure if the effects were from the alcohol or the art.
