Page 105 of Not Part of the Plan
Slenderella didn’t wait for Niko to finish his conversation. She was a woman who waited for no one.
“Neekolai! You disappeared on meee,” she purred in an Eastern European accent.
Emma almost laughed when she realized Niko was running through his memory banks for a name.
“Vladia. So nice to see you. I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Emmaline,” he said, reeling Emma into him like a trout on the line. “Emma, Vladia is a model.”
“I can see that,” Emma said, offering her hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Vladia.”
Vladia stared blankly at her hand and blinked at Niko. “Girlfriend? Her?”
Niko’s friendly smile chilled a few degrees, and he made a show of sliding his arm around Emma’s waist. “I couldn’t believe I got this lucky either.”
“You are not joking?”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Afraid not.” She hid her snort when Vladia slowly accepted Emma’s hand and shook it.
“Well, it is nice show. Where is the bar?”
Amara stepped in and ushered her off with a smirk.
Niko leaned down. “Okay. That was awkward,” he whispered.
Emma raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t even ask because I have no idea what I was thinking,” he admitted.
Emma glanced back in the direction Vladia had loped off in. “Oh, I think I have an idea of what you were thinking.”
“Smart ass. Are you okay?”
Emma nodded. “It helps that you didn’t immediately shove me to the floor and start kissing her feet.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but she has huge feet. Size thirteen if memory serves. She pissed off a creative director once by acting like an entitled asshole, and the guy told her to get her canoes off his set.”
Emma snorted and clamped a hand over her mouth. “You’re horrible.”
“Technically, she’s horrible. I was just stupid.”
There were two other awkward introductions. One to a stunning Swedish swimsuit model whose bubbly laugh added to the blonde bombshell image and a sweet, six-foot-tall Southern belle with glossy chestnut hair and a Miss America smile. Thankfully, neither woman was rude enough to give Emma the once over. In fact, Gone with the Wind was sweet enough to introduce them to her fiancé, a short, thin man with glasses and a shy smile. Emma felt an immediate kinship with him when he sized up Niko and lost a bit of color in his face. It was hard being normal and facing the spectacular past of one’s lover.
Deeming the worst over, and with Vladia nowhere to be seen, Emma convinced Niko to let her wander around to see what all the fuss was about.
The gallery was, by design, a blank canvas. Stamped concrete floors butted up against plain white walls or rough brick. Lighting on wire tracks shed light on key points for the optimal art experience. In this case, it was familiar faces everywhere she looked.
The first picture she spotted was Aurora sitting on her knees under a table at the wedding, the skirts of her dress poofing out in a mound of tulle. She was staring at the hefty wedge of cake she’d stolen as if it was the love of her life.The perfect sliver of the time of her life, Emma thought with a soft smile.
She walked a path and took it in, picture by picture. Ellery’s supreme concentration at the Knit Off, a goth girl knitting a goth blanket. There was Julia doling out a rainbow of juice samples at the farmers market. Willa, her hair long and free and a dreamy smile on her face as she stared off into space. Phoebe, the beautiful bride, laughing with her sons at the brewery. There was the one of Emma and her sisters with Franklin on the dance floor at the wedding.
Joey on Apollo, mid-gallop, a wicked grin on her face and the trees behind her a blur of speed and movement. Reva, straight-faced and so quietly pretty, leading a speckled pony into a sunbeam in the indoor riding ring.
There was Summer sharing a belly laugh on a quilt with sweet Meadow and Gia cuddling Lydia and Aurora on her yoga mat. Eva, a whirl of color and energy on the dance floor with Evan, while Donovan looked on longingly.
She didn’t know why, but her heart felt so full looking at these moments, these slices of life. There were more, so many more. Phoebe listening with the rapt attention of a grandmother to Caleb as he chattered on about something clutching the stuffed pony Emma had given him. Mrs. Nordemann, eyes wide, behind the cover of what was sure to be a very graphic erotic novel. Rainbow Berkowicz and Bobby from Peace of Pizza laughing over glasses of wine at Shorty’s.
There were more of her. The mid-twirl before her father’s wedding. An artsy black and white shot of her clad in black leaning against the brewery’s bar as if surveying her domain, a look of smug satisfaction on her face.
But the piece that came next was more, so much more. It seemed to hold the rest of the exhibit together, serving as a keystone of sorts.
