Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
He watched her, and when he saw she was looking at him as well, he lifted his wineglass in a salute. She smiled, but the tingling on her nape intensified.
“That’s Gerald Poolish.”
She glanced to her side at one of the wait staff. “The artist?”
The waitress nodded. “I heard this was one show he came out for.” The waitress left, and although the artist was no longer looking at her, Gillian still felt that tingling on the back of her neck. Gerald Poolish was known for being reclusive, reserved, and rarely even showed up to his own art shows.
To see him here was a bit of a shock, and she was a little awestruck. Gillian loved art, always had, but she couldn’t paint a straight line if her life depended on it. Instead, she’d become part of the art world, even if she wasn’t an artist.
This showing was small, intimate, unlike the one she was taking David to. So maybe that’s why Gerald was here? As much as she would have loved to go talk to him, to see how he was, how he acted, and get a feel for the man behind the paintings, she was reserved in these situations.
Instead of potentially making an ass out of herself in front of the brilliant artist, she turned and walked the room, seeing if anyone needed help on painting explanations and just trying to keep herself busy.
But the whole while, she still felt that tightening of her skin, felt like someone had their fingers on her, making her very aware that she wasn’t alone. It was a strange feeling, one she got occasionally, but never this strong.
Maybe she was losing her mind?
“You have a magnetism that is like a Callahan painting.”
The voice behind her startled her for how close it was, and Gillian turned, feeling her heart in her throat. There, standing far too close for comfort given the fact she didn’t know him, was Gerald Poolish.
“Excuse me?” was the first thing that came out of her mouth before she could stop herself.
“I was just complimenting you on the fact you’re a very gorgeous woman,” he said and held his hand out. “Gerald Poolish.”
She took his hand and nodded. “I know who you are.”
He smiled, and it was nice, genuine, although he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He also had a generous amount of paint stains on his jacket, even some staining on his fingers.
“I hope you’ve heard all good things.” He grinned.
She hadn’t really heard good or bad, just that he was reserved. Apparently not right now, as he was the one striking up the conversation.
“I couldn’t help but notice you through the crowd. You were enthralled with the Yenna Black.” They both turned and looked at the painting in question. It was a large canvas painted black with swatches of oranges, yellows, and blues covering it, the design random, abstract.
“Yes, it’s exquisite. Eye-catching.”
He nodded. “I want this one for my home.” He turned and looked at her then. “It’ll remind me of the beautiful woman I saw at the show who has good taste in art.”
Gillian felt her cheeks heat.
“I’ve embarrassed you,” Gerald said and chuckled. “Not my intent, but I’m pleased to have gotten a reaction out of you.”
“I…” What was she supposed to say? She was pleased to meet this artist, but the vibes he gave off told her he was flirting, that he was interested, whereas she wasn’t in that way. The back of her neck tingled intensely right then, and she lifted her hand to rub it.
Looking out toward the front windows, she couldn’t see anything because of the lighting inside. But whatever was out there had her entire body taking notice, it seemed.
A waiter walked by, and Gerald grabbed two champagne flutes off the tray. He handed one to Gillian, and she took it, smiling.
“Thank you.” She turned back to the painting, sipping her champagne, and feeling Gerald’s stare on her.
“To be honest, I noticed you as soon as I came in.”
Although she had been interested in meeting Gerald Poolish, this was getting a little weird for her. She choked on her champagne for a second and turned with wide eyes to look at him. “You did?” she asked, her voice high-pitched.
“Of course.” He smiled again and reached out to touch her shoulder. She glanced down at where his hand was, not impressed. “I see a beautiful woman surrounded by beautiful paintings, what’s not to notice?”
Okay, Gillian was going to have to figure out how to gently and professionally steer this encounter in the other direction because the way it was going was not what she wanted.
Chapter
Five
The steering wheel creaked under David’s hold, and he felt his entire body tighten. He was getting pissed and all because of the interest shown in Gillian by some shabby-looking motherfucker.