The Art of
Love by Michele Shriver
Published on
October 21, 2014
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Chelsea
Matthews has a simple dream—travel the country on the art
fair circuit selling
her hand-crafted jewelry. When her disapproving father
refuses to release her
trust fund money to support her ambitions, she takes a
part-time job in a campus
gallery. While counting the days until she can be free of
its stuffy confines,
an unexpected temptation comes in the form of a sensitive
painter.
For
Hayden Shaw, having his paintings displayed in the finest
galleries is the true
measure of an artist’s success. When the pursuit of his goal
puts him in
contact with the free-spirited Chelsea, his world is turned
upside down.
Can
two seemingly opposite artists find middle ground and
discover the art of love,
or will a gallery curator with an agenda of her own
undermine both their
dreams?
Hayden
Shaw stopped and took a deep breath. Whittier Gallery. The
name was etched on
the door, and underneath that, in smaller letters,
Marissa
Kincaid, Curator. Was she the
woman who would change his life?
A chime sounded
as Hayden pulled the door
open and walked inside, a portfolio of his work tucked under
his arm. He had a
pitch prepared as to why this particular gallery should
feature his art. That
same pitch hadn’t gone over well at the last gallery he
visited, but he was
undeterred.
A woman sat behind the desk talking
on the
phone and she gestured in his direction that she was almost
finished. Not
wanting to eavesdrop, Hayden nodded and wandered in the
direction of one of the
displays. It featured oil painted scenes of the Boston
Harbor, and he couldn’t
deny the skill of the artist. Did Hayden’s own work belong
here? Was he good
enough?
No negative
thoughts, Shaw,
he chastised himself. Hayden remembered the pep talk his
roommate had given him
before he left. He had to be bold and confident.
“Sorry to keep
you waiting. Can I help
you?”
Hayden turned
around to face the woman as
she stepped out from behind the desk. “I hope so. Are you
Ms. Kincaid?” As he
studied her face, though, Hayden doubted it. The woman
facing him didn’t appear
much older than his own twenty years. He doubted she was old
enough to be in
charge of a prestigious art gallery.
She shook her
head and tucked a wayward
strand of light brown hair behind her ear. “No. I’m Chelsea
Matthews. I just
work here.”
“Hayden Shaw.”
He extended his hand. “It’s
nice to meet you.”
“What can I do
for you?”
“I’m a student
here at MassArt,” Hayden
said. “I understand you display student work, and I have a
portfolio with some
pictures of my paintings—”
“Pictures?” Chelsea interrupted, “or
paintings?”
Hadn’t he made that clear? Hayden
tried
again. “I’m painter and I’m interested in having my
paintings displayed here. I
do photorealism, so they’re paintings based on photographs.
I didn’t want to
lug the originals all the way across campus, so I brought
pictures of them.”
“So, pictures
of paintings of pictures is
what you’re saying.” Chelsea’s face carried an amused
expression, and Hayden
wasn’t sure how to take it. Was she making fun of him, or
rather his style? Not
everyone understood or appreciated photorealism. Maybe this
gallery wasn’t the
right place after all. Or was she simply trying to joke
around? He didn’t
always get people with quirky senses of
humor.
“I guess you
could say that.” He set the
portfolio on the desk. “Would you like to see
them?”
“I could look
at them, but it’s not up to
me whether the gallery will showcase your work,” Chelsea said.
“Can you leave
this so I can show Marissa?”
“Sure. I can do
that.”
“Good. She
should be back in a little later,”
she said. “Can I ask you something,
though?”
Hayden nodded.
“Fire away.”
“Why
here?”
He had the
speech prepared as to why he
felt this gallery was a good fit, but truthfully it wasn’t
much different than
the one he gave at the previous gallery. Besides, he didn’t
think that was what
she wanted to hear. “I’m not sure what you
mean?”
“I mean what’s
the appeal here? What’s so
special about galleries?”
Was she
serious? She worked in a gallery,
and she wanted him to tell her what was special about them?
“I want people to
see my work.”
“Then why not
display it around campus? In
the classroom buildings, stairwells, wherever. People
do.”
He knew that.
It was impossible to walk
anywhere on the MassArt campus without seeing student
artwork on display. While
it made for an interesting environment, seeing paintings in
stairwells,
sculptures on the grass and metal works hanging from a tree,
Hayden didn’t
quite understand why it was such a popular thing to do. “I
want people to be
able to appreciate my work.”
“Who’s to say
that the folks walking down
Huntington Avenue can’t appreciate it?”
She had a
point, and Hayden was left unsure
how to respond. “It’s not the same.”
“You mean you
want someone to appreciate it
by buying it.” Her lips curled up in a smile. “Am I right,
Hayden Shaw?”
She was, and
Hayden hated how materialistic
she made him sound. He stuck his hands in the back pockets
of his jeans and
averted his gaze to the floor.
“Oh please,
don’t be embarrassed.” Chelsea
laughed. “Making money is a noble goal. I certainly want to
make money from my
art.”
“You’re an
artist too?” Hayden regarded her
with curiosity. “What kind? Are you a student
here?”
“Yes. Jewelry
and metalsmithing major.” She
reached up and touched the necklace she wore, holding it out
for him to see. “I
made this.”
For the first
time, Hayden examined it. It
looked to be made out of Scrabble tiles, spelling out the
letters F-R-E-E. Art
was definitely in the eye of the beholder, but he found the
necklace oddly
appealing, much like the woman who wore it. “It’s very
unique,” he said. “Are
you? Free, that is?”
Mischief danced in her hazel eyes.
Pretty
eyes, he decided. Not unlike the rest of her. “It depends on
the context in
which you’re asking.”
“A woman of
mystery. I like that,” Hayden
said, then wished he could take the words back. The
conversation had veered
dangerously close to flirting, which probably wasn’t wise
given that he hoped
to have a business relationship with this gallery. “Is your
work on display
here?” His eyes scanned the gallery showroom for any cases
that might house
jewelry.
She shook her
head. “No. Galleries aren’t
my thing, and my work’s not Marissa’s thing.” She shrugged.
“I’m hoping to go
on the art fair circuit this summer, after
graduation.”
“Art fairs?”
Hayden frowned.
“Yeah. You know, like Ann Arbor. Des
Moines. Kansas City.”
Why would anyone pass on a
prestigious
gallery in Boston in favor of the capital of Iowa or a city
most famous for barbecue?
“Are you from the Midwest?” Hayden
asked.
“No. New
Hampshire.”
“Then I don’t
see a connection,” Hayden
said.
“The cities I
just mentioned host some of
the best art fairs in the country,” Chelsea said. “Surely
you’ve heard of
them.” She said it as if she expected everyone
had.
Hayden shook
his head. “Sorry to disappoint
you, but no. Art fairs aren’t really my thing.” He didn’t
get the appeal of
traveling to cities in the middle of nowhere, peddling art
on the street. “No
offense, but have you considered aiming a little higher?”
Okay, so the Scrabble
necklace was kind of strange. Some people liked strange.
The amusement
that once reflected in her
eyes faded, and Hayden knew at once that his words had
offended her. “No
offense, but have you?” She retorted before turning away
from him. “I’ll show
Marissa your pictures when she gets back.”
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Michele
Shriver writes women’s fiction and contemporary romance. Her
books feature
flawed-but-likeable characters in real-life settings. She’s
not afraid to break
the rules, but never stops believing in happily ever after.
In her free time,
Michele enjoys football, hockey and reading a good book
written by someone
else.
Website:
www.micheleshriver.com
Blog:
http://micheleshriver.wordpress.com/blog/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Michele-Shriver/241190605939040
Twitter:
www.twitter.com/micheleshriver
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