Page 41 of Beloved By the Irish

She takes the remote and proceeds to navigate to the movies section of the app. She makes approving and disapproving noises as she clicks through the options until she lands on one with an excited gasp. “Oh, I love this movie. Have you seen it?”

I look at the film’s poster and read the brief description and deduce it’s a romantic comedy. I shake my head. “No.”

“What?” Catarina gasps. “How is that possible? It’s a classic.”

“There are a lot of movies I haven’t seen,” I admit.

“Well, we can’t have that,” she declares with authority. “Buckle up, Declan, because my new mission in life is going to be to show you all the best movies. Starting with this one.” She clicks the remote to start the movie but hits pause and stands one second later. “I’m going to get myself a glass of water. Do you want your wine?”

“No,” I manage to reply. Catarina, unaware of my preoccupation, bounces out of the living room and back to the kitchen, leaving me gaping after her with my heart beating quickly in my chest.

This is silly. It’s just a movie. I shouldn’t be so affected, but the normalcy of this moment hits me like a freight train I didn’t see coming.

I can’t remember the last time I did something as normal as having dinner and watching a movie with a woman. Let alone feel so content with someone.

The fact that Catarina vowed to watch countless more movies with me reminds me that I won’t be alone for the rest of my life. I’ll have someone to share my life with—a true companion.

Catarina Furnari is a light in my life that I didn’t know I wanted. Orneeded.

Chapter14

Catarina

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you all morning.” Isaiah rounds the metal shelf filled with bubble-wrapped pieces of art in the storage room of his gallery. I stand in front of a different shelf with a clipboard in hand, taking inventory of the latest shipment that was delivered less than an hour ago.

“Isaiah,” I greet with a smile. “What are you doing here so early?” The gallery owner tends not to arrive before ten a.m. whenever I’m working. I don’t mind. We don’t open to the public until eleven, so he’s always here to help with any problems I might run into as I prepare to open for the day.

“I had business to attend to before we open,” he explains. “Did the Jasper Juno pieces arrive in this shipment?” He sidles closer and examines the objects I’ve removed from the heavily cushioned packages and placed on the shelf.

“Only one so far.” I point to the glass-blown orb still surrounded by bubble wrap. A tan tag is taped to the surface, identifying it as one of the prominent glass blower’s pieces.

He frowns. “Only one? But we ordered five.”

“Well, they are coming from Italy,” I remind him with a chuckle. “And we didn’t agree to his price until last week.”

“And it was an exorbitant price,” Isaiah grumbles. “You’d think that would warrant prompt delivery.”

I bite my tongue to refrain from reminding Isaiah that Jasper Juno’s pieces are sure to sell for at least twenty-five percent more than we paid, and that we’re entitled to retain fifty percent of that additional profit per our agreement with the artist. My boss isn’t known for his patience.

“But I suppose there’s nothing we can do about it now,” he sighs. “Let’s change the subject. You completed the swan commission, correct?” He asks after my Bella Donna piece.

“Yes,” I answer with a nod, hugging the clipboard to my chest. The swan sculpture took longer than expected to complete, but I’m glad to finally be done. After my conversation with Declan, I’ve decided I’m going to take his advice and refrain from accepting any more commissions. At least for a little while.

But I refrain from sharing the news with Isaiah. He’s going to try and talk me out of my decision. He won’t understand that I want what little time I have to work on my art to be enjoyable.

“Is it here?” he asks, looking around the shelves for the porcelain sculpture.

“I put it in your office so it would be easy to find whenever the buyer comes to pick it up.” Part of retaining my anonymity means Isaiah handles, not only the sale of my art, but also their delivery or pick up.

“I’m glad to hear it. Part of the reason I’m here early is to confirm you brought the piece. If not, you’d need to go home and get it.”

I frown. “Why?”

“Because the buyer is picking it up today.”

“What?” My eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes.” Isaiah grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll still handle the handoff. I know you’re quick to fluster when it comes to your art.”

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