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Country Roads(64)

By:Nancy Herkness


“That’s why I’m here,” Claire said. “Close your eyes.”

“Seriously?”

“I want you to get the full effect.”

Julia obeyed and felt Claire take a light grip on her wrist to tug her forward. After about ten steps, Claire pulled her to a stop. “All right, you can look.”

Julia gasped.

She stood in the center of an open pentagon formed by the freestanding white panels that added hanging space to the gallery. Claire had arranged them so that no matter which way she turned, one of her Night Mares galloped toward her.

“It’s…it’s kind of frightening.” Julia spun slowly, eyeing the black horses charging at her. “Are you sure it won’t scare the buyers away?”

Claire clapped her hands as satisfaction lit her eyes. “Perfect! Exactly the effect I was trying for.”

“Terrifying your patrons is a good sales technique?”

The other woman nodded. “These paintings are meant to evoke strong reactions, so we have to give them the chance to do that. The buyers for these will be excited by the drama, the emotional impact.” She did her own slow spin before turning back to Julia. “This is going to make a huge splash in the art world.”

Julia’s stretched nerves wound tighter. She wasn’t sure she wanted to make a huge splash. Maybe Carlos was right; she should stick to the safe stuff.

Claire turned one of the panels on its wheels so the painting faced the back wall. “I’m just going to flip them away from the street so no one can get a sneak preview.” Julia spun a second panel in the same direction. Claire seemed excited about her paintings, so it might be a good time to ask her if she would be Julia’s agent.

Julia waved toward the now-hidden paintings. “I have more of these at my studio, and my uncle doesn’t believe in them,” she said. “Would you consider being my dealer?”

Claire looked stunned. “I, well, I—”

“I’ll understand if you don’t want the job. They’re not easy paintings to sell.”

Claire scrubbed her palms against the beige twill slacks she was wearing. “It would be an honor to represent your work, but I’m not the person to do it.”

Julia frowned. “You think it’s good and you sell art.”

“It’s not that simple. You’re a well-established artist, so it’s not a question of building up an audience for your work. It’s a question of getting the maximum price for it. Your paintings should also be placed in carefully selected museum collections to add to your reputation.” Claire spread her hands wide. “Oh, there are so many things your career needs at this point, and I don’t move in those circles anymore.”

Julia felt a wash of relief. “I don’t care about those things. I just want someone to sell my work to people who appreciate it.”

“That’s not enough for someone with your talent.”

“But I trust you.”

“There are many reputable dealers I can put you in touch with.” Claire’s voice sounded a little strangled.

“I don’t want reputable. I want someone who will tell me whether the work is worthwhile. Not someone who will sell a painting just because it has my name on it.”

“I can’t. It would be doing you a disservice.”

Frustration made Julia’s hands ball into fists. She couldn’t force Claire to be her dealer. “Will you think about it?”

Claire sighed. “Yes, although I’ll also come up with other recommendations.”

Julia uncurled her fingers. “Deal.”



Loaded down with shopping bags, Claire walked into her living room to find Tim asleep on the oversize couch with Sprocket nestled on his chest. The little dog lifted his head to acknowledge her presence before laying it back on his paws. Her husband didn’t move. She couldn’t resist watching the man she loved to distraction as he slumbered unawares. She stood so long letting her eyes roam over him, her arms grew tired and she dropped the bags on the Oriental rug.

Sprocket twitched an ear, and Tim’s eyes came open as a slow smile spread over his face. “You’re home,” he said, as she bent down to brush back a curve of auburn hair from his forehead and kiss him. This disturbed the little dog, who gave her an irritated look before moving to the other end of the sofa.

Her husband took her wrist and tugged her down to sit beside him. “Did you find the perfect dress?”

“I found several perfect outfits, but I only bought two.” She ran her palm over his chest, so she felt the vibration of his chuckle.

“How about Julia?”

“She’s going to wear the Villar and…you don’t want to hear the details, do you?”