I set my flute on an empty tray and made my way over to the couple. The woman noticed me approaching first and her smile was genuine, unlike many I had encountered this evening. Not that it mattered. “Can I answer any questions you may have about The Custode Segreto?” I asked.
“What year was this painted? I don’t recall seeing it when we visited this exhibit in Rome,” the man replied.
“This was first displayed in eighteen thirty-six. It has only been with this exhibit for the past two years. Before then it belonged to a Mr. Chanade Nieler in his private museum within his home in Italy.”
They seemed pleased with my answer.
“I’m going to get another drink,” his wife informed him and excused herself.
When he seemed to have no more questions for me, I made my way over to stand away from the guests again. I didn’t want to crowd them and the art was meant to be enjoyed. No need to stand in their way. I’d been lucky enough to help unpack almost every piece.
Ambre was beaming with pleasure as she walked toward me. The silver stiletto heels she was wearing tonight almost put her at eye level with me. If I hadn’t been wearing heels they would have. “Excellent job tonight. I’ve heard only good things tonight about you. They seem to be pleased with you as does Albert. I can’t think of the last time this place has ran so smoothly.”
I didn’t see how I helped that any but I smiled feeling pleased. “It’s been a great event.”
She nodded. “Yes, it has and the donations we’ve received have been more than enough to cover the cost of this exhibit. They’re all about to start slowly heading out. Go on and leave. No need for you to stand around until they’re gone. Have a long weekend and we will see you Monday. Oh, and send me the photos you took of the exhibit and set up. I’d like to send them to the paper.”
I started to offer to stay, but my feet reminded me that I was abusing them in my choice of heels. I promised to email her the pictures I’d taken then went to the back to get my purse, before slipping out the door without drawing any attention to myself. I paused when I got close enough to my car to see a dark figure leaning against the driver’s side door. It was dark and whoever it was stood just outside the street light’s glow. For a moment, I thought it was Griff, but then I realized how unrealistic that was. Griff was busy like always.
The figure moved into the light when I stopped walking and the glow illuminated Creed. I didn’t start walking right away, mostly from confusion at his being beside my car. I hadn’t thought it would be Creed. My surprise passed quickly and I realized I was happy to see him. I wanted to tell someone about tonight and Creed was here. I wasn’t sure why he was here but he was and I could tell him all about the exhibit and the donations.
“Hey,” I said, smiling when I reached him.
He didn’t say anything at first and I remembered our earlier conversation. Was he mad at me now? Had he come to finish our argument? I had every right to get angry. I started to tell him just that but he spoke first.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
He’d already apologized but then I hadn’t been nice about it. “Thank you,” I replied. “I was having an…emotional day, I guess, I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”
“No, you were right. I spoke to Rachel. She knows that we are just friends.”
“Thank you,” I said again. My earlier outburst seemed silly now. Had it really mattered what his cousin, who lived in another country, thought of me? Was it my conflicting emotions making me over react?
“How was opening night of the exhibit?” he asked me.
I sighed from the memory of tonight. “Amazing,” I told him. “I was able to talk about the art and people listened. They wanted to know all the details and I got to tell them. I love it.”
“You look beautiful,” he said, as his gaze slowly went down my body with an appreciative gleam.
The giddiness from my evening had to be the reason my stomach did a flip and my heart felt as if it was fluttering. I felt flushed suddenly and the night sky was my friend as it helped cover up my reaction to his words. I should thank him but I wasn’t sure my voice wouldn’t give away exactly what I was feeling.
“Griff should have been here with you,” he said and my fluttery feeling turned sour. That wasn’t his business and the way he had said it sounded as if he was judging Griff. He had no right to judge Griff.