Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“They’re funny but they’re meant to be.”
Kiel shook his head. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult your ability.”
Eloise laughed and placed her hand on his arm. She let her hand linger for a moment before pulling it away. “Thank you for this.” She held the cup of Ida's up, as if she needed to explain what she meant.
“You're welcome.”
Another awkward pause occurred between them until Kiel sighed. “So, what do you do for fun around here?”
Eloise laughed, and Kiel followed. “Wow! I have to say, that was the lamest pickup line in the history of pickup lines.”
“Are you trying to pick me up?”
He nodded and shrugged. “Yes. Although I'm not doing a very good job at it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Every time I find you, you're packing up for the day and heading to wherever it is you hide during the evening.”
“Well, I'm not exactly hiding. You're just not looking in the right spot.”
“Which is where?”
“Margaux's Art Gallery.”
“Is that where you work?”
“Yes, when I’m not out here painting or drawing people for laughs.”
“I've never been to a gallery.”
Eloise smiled and took another spoonful of the raspberry lemonade. “You should visit. It's just up the road.”
“Do people come in and you paint them or something?”
She chuckled. “No, nothing like that. I mostly paint landscapes. Not portraits. It's a gallery, so people come in and buy paintings.”
“So, I can go in and buy one of yours?”
Eloise shook her head. “Someday. I hope.”
Kiel frowned. “If I can't buy your work, what do you do there?”
“Answer the phone, mostly. Or work on my portfolio. My aunt owns the studio. I help her out when she needs it. What about you?”
“I'm in limbo. Caught in the nowhere space of getting a job or deciding if I want to go to grad school, and if its grad school figuring out what I want to be for the rest of my life” Kiel shrugged. “Regardless of what I decide, time is not on my side.”
“Because the schools have deadlines?”
He nodded his head slowly. “Yep. If I continue to ignore them, they’ll give my spot away to someone. Probably someone who wants it more than me.”
“I get it. Picking a profession is hard.”
“What do you want to do?”
She eyed her covered canvas and he followed her gaze, looking at her canvas and then back to her.
“Is it hard to sell a painting?” he asked.
“Sometimes. It all depends on what the buyer is looking for.”
“Honestly, I think my parents buy their artwork from HomeGoods or something.”
Eloise wouldn't let that bother her. Art was art, and every artist deserved attention. “I haven't been to one of those stores in what feels like forever.”
“You don't go there once a week like my mom and sisters?”
Eloise’s eyes widened and shook her head. “Is that a thing?”
Kiel started nodding before she could finish her question. “It’s such a thing. I’ll bet you a week or two, tops, before you’re heading to the nearest store on restock day.”
Eloise stuck her hand out and shook his. “You’re on.”
“So, if you’re not a Tuesday shopper, what do you do for fun, then? Because, according to the three of them, that is the most fun ever!” He held his free hand up and waved it in the air.
Laughter broke out between them. “I'm definitely missing out then.” She caught her breath and wiped at her eyes. “As for what I do for fun, you're looking at it. I just moved here, or moved back.”
“Really? I took you for a townie.”
Eloise cringed at being called a townie.
“Yeah, I had a feeling that was going to be the wrong term.”
She brushed the word away. “It’s not the wrong term, just not widely used here on the island. I used to live here until my parents divorced. I should’ve stayed with my aunt. But when you’re an impressionable teen, living in Europe sounds like a dream come true. I thought being there would be life changing. It sort of was, but something was missing. I didn’t know my soul could miss a place until my aunt asked me to come back to Seaport and help at the gallery.”
“Oh, wow. I wasn't expecting you to say that.”
“No?” she laughed.
“Well, not the Europe part. Do you miss it?”
“Not really. It never felt like home.”
“You must've painted some amazing scenery, though?”
“I mostly drew people I'd encounter on the street corners. There were lots of tourists and if you let them believe you're a struggling European artist, they'll pay.” Eloise shrugged.
“That's tricky, and I'm here for it.”
They both laughed.
“I think under different circumstances I would probably love Europe, and I tried to fall in love with the area, but it was never home.”
“And Seaport is home?”
“Very much so. I just feel . . . connected here.”
“I get it. I think. Although, if I moved away from home, I don't know if I'd be eager to go back.”