Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
She grins. “I thought I’d check the museum out first. Make sure it’s a place Thomas would feel like his collection would be at home.”
Nodding, I agree. “Absolutely! I’d be happy to show you around.”
“I think you have another tour in a few minutes, right, Luna?” Maeve prompts.
I shake my head, pulling out my phone to double-check. “I don’t think so. Unless someone booked one since this morning?” I glance to Josie to make sure no one has called in but find she’s fighting back a laugh. I don’t understand why until I glance back to Maeve, who’s trying to silently communicate with me again, and I realize that she probably wants to be the one to show Elena around. “I mean, uh . . . maybe I have . . . another tour?”
Maeve smiles, and I breathe a sigh of relief for getting it right.
Elena’s not having it, though. “Surely, there’s someone else who could handle that? It’d make me happier than a tick on a fat dog to have Luna show me around. It only seems right since she’s the reason I’m here, and I’ve been wanting to see that Renoir of yours since she told me about it.”
“Oh, well, then there you have it,” Maeve answers, seemingly decidedly less than enthusiastic about my showing Elena around. She probably wants to get her own moment to shine, and I’m in the way of that. “I’d be happy to speak with you about the exhibition in more detail after Luna shows you around.”
“Sure, sure.” Elena dismisses Maeve with a wave of her hand, then holds her elbow out to me. I slip mine through hers and she smiles. “Take me places and show me things, dear.”
I lead her off toward the Renaissance wing, trying to keep an Elena-appropriate pace and not the run-away speed I’d like to go at to get away from Maeve’s sharply raised brow.
“This is one of the most popular areas of the museum,” I tell Elena as she looks around. I know she’s not as passionate about art as Thomas was, but I naturally drop into tour guide mode as we explore. “A lot of folks like the clear imagery, and the bright colors are very uplifting.”
Elena listens as we walk through room after room, but eventually, I pick up a weirdness in the way she’s watching me and barely glancing at the displays. I don’t think she’s here for the museum. She’s here for . . . me?
Hopefully, she’s scoping me out for the exhibition, but I’m not sure that’s it. I swallow thickly, knowing that if she asks any direct questions about Carter and me, she’ll be able to see through any awkward answer I give. And I really hate lying to her. She’s so sweet and kind, and I feel like we could be friends even though there’s a lifetime’s worth of years and millions of dollars between the two of us.
It’s like she’s been waiting patiently for me to catch on that she doesn’t care about the museum because when she sees recognition dawning in my eyes, she smiles gently before sitting down on a bench in the middle of the room. She pats the space beside her, and I slowly lower myself beside her. “Elena?”
“What brought you to art?” she asks, looking around at the paintings. We’re in the modern art section, an area that people tend to either love or hate.
I stare into the pop art piece in front of me, searching for an answer that will make sense. “You ever felt like you didn’t fit in?” I ask her. I recognize how stupid that sounds and don’t wait for her answer. “That was me. But art was . . . accepting. It made me feel normal.”
“Whatever that is,” she teases, and I smile back, relaxing. Maybe this is about the museum and the possibility of an exhibit. Those are safer zones that I can talk about for hours.
“What about Carter? What brought you two together?”
Danger! What do I say?
I wish Carter were here to handle this question. He’s better at non-answer answers than I am. But then I remember what I told Carter . . . keep it simple. Stick to the truth. It’s easier on your brain, but it’s also easier on my heart.
“My brother, Zack. Carter and he are best friends, have been for years.”
“Ooh, was it love at first sight? Did your brother pitch a hissy fit or was he on board?” Elena shimmies her shoulders, looking for juicy gossip.
I laugh at her eagerness. “More like hate at first sight. And second, third, and fourth. It was years before I even liked Carter, but his charm got to me, I guess.” I smile, thinking back. Though Elena probably assumes it was long ago, I’m truly only thinking of weeks ago.