Page 15 of The Artist

She let out a shaky breath.I know he’s up to something.What problem he’s setting me up for now?Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and grounded herself again.She would not let him ruin her day.

Peter’s face swam into her mind.She sighed.He’d left for the cabin he’d rented, but he’d promised to do a painting for her.She wondered if she’d see him again before he delivered the painting.

Two daysafter leaving Alexis’s cabin, Peter stood back, his brush and palette in his hands, and stared at the painting.He’d painted a new character for Ranger’s Walk video game series.This one he called Angel.She was tall, with ample curves and flaming red hair.He’d drawn Alexis, but he couldn’t get her out of his mind.

He still felt her soft, full lips on his as he held her body close.Her curvy figure was just as he liked his women.But even so, she was different.She didn’t seem to realize how beautiful she was.She didn’t even wear makeup and yet she was the most beautiful woman he’d seen in a very long time.

He wondered if she would recognize herself as Angel.Would she be pleased?Or would she dislike the liberties he’d taken with her figure in the skin-tight uniform he’d painted her in?

Shaking his head, he put down his brush and removed the palette from his hand.He’d painted nonstop for two days, and exhaustion was catching up with him.He’d never painted so fast in his life.The feeling was almost as if his fingers had a mind of their own.But he couldn’t stop, not until he had finished with her.He’d had to get her portrait as perfect on the canvas as she was in real life.

He headed for the master bedroom for a midday nap now that the painting was done.The soft colors soothed him as he removed his clothing before climbing under the covers.The room was done in shades of blue, from the deep navy blue of the curtains to the soft dusky blue of the duvet.The carpet was the palest blue he’d ever seen, almost white.

Peter lay on the crisp white sheets.After a nap to restore his energy, should he go to The Armstrong Gallery?Or maybe he should visit Horace’s and see what the competition was like?

Peter’d donean internet search for art galleries in Aspen.There were two.The Armstrong Gallery and Aspen Valley Gallery.He got the addresses and discovered they were very close to one another.From the map that Google showed him they were only two doors down from each other.He pulled into the lot behind Horace’s gallery.He hoped Alexis wouldn’t notice his car and wonder where he was.But then he remembered that Alexis didn’t know what his car looked like, so he was safe.

He walked to the building and wondered if he should go around when he saw a door with the gallery’s operating hours of the gallery painted in fancy lettering.Peter shook his head.Did the man think this made the gallery seem more upscale?Walking through the door, he was greeted by soft music that sounded like a string quartet.

A man approached him carrying two glasses of champagne.“Welcome to Aspen Valley Gallery.I’m Horace Beecher, the owner.And you Peter Kincaid.I’d recognize you anywhere.”He handed him a glass, then he extended his right hand.

Peter knew Horace was looking at him as a potential customer and donor of a painting.He took a glass and then shook the man’s hand.“I’m just here on vacation, and I’m due to leave tomorrow, but I’ve been skiing or hunkering down during the blizzard, so I haven’t had a chance to embrace any of the Aspen culture.”

Horace’s smile widened.“Well you came to the right place for culture.We have the most beautiful and thought provoking paintings in town and the greatest number, as well.”

Nodding, Peter took a sip of his champagne.“I think I’d like to look around, if you don’t mind.”

“No, no.”He held up his free hand.“Of course not.In fact, I encourage it.When you find something you like, I’ll be here.”

“Great.”Peter walked away and began glancing at the works on display.He saw nothing fascinating.A few of the pieces he recognized, he knew the names of the artists and knew they weren’t very well known or well liked.The paintings were too mundane.The difference between art and paint-by-number pictures was flair and design and vision.Even the simplest model could become beautiful art if done right.None of the paintings he’d seen so far contained even one of those items.They were, to put it mildly…boring.

Suddenly he heard the door open and Alexis’s voice.

“What are you doing here?”She stared at him with both hands on her hips.

Peter put up his hands, one palm out and the other holding the glass of champagne, as he walked toward her, knowing she would think he was betraying her with Horace.“It’s not what you think.I’m not here to help him.I just wanted to see your competition.”

She narrowed her eyes.“Why don’t I believe you?Why do you want to check out Horace’s gallery?He’s the enemy.You shouldn’t be here.”

Horace chose the moment to appear.“Alexis.I can’t have you harassing my customers.I must ask you to leave.”Though his words were mild, his hands were in fists at his side.

Peter set his glass on a shelf and raised his hands in supplication.

“Don’t worry I’m leaving.”She spun on her heels and stalked toward the door.

Alexis—” Peter started after her.

Horace grabbed his arm.“Don’t worry about her.She’ll cool off.”

Peter clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes before he pulled his arm free.“I need to explain?—”

“Explain what?Were you were spying on me?”Horace crossed his arms over his chest, emphasizing his enormous belly.

How could Alexis have been involved with such a man?Peter stood casually, his hands in his pockets.“I wasn’t spying on you so much as getting the lay of the land.”

“For her?She already knows everything about this gallery.Maybe you should just keep to her gallery from now on.”He pointed toward the back door where Peter had entered.“Now, get out before I call the police.”

“What would you tell the police?That I’m a spy for Alexis Armstrong?Why would I be?I barely know the woman.”Definitely not as well as I would like.And if I can’t fix this, I won’t get the chance to know her better.