Canvas Skies (Reliance on Citizens Makes Us Great!) (12 page)

“You want me to threaten him?”

“Nah, I can do that myself, but there might
be an easier way to get what I want.”

“Go on.”

“He's friends with Mr. See No Evil, Speak No
Evil.”

“Shit, news travels fast!”

“And he's been watching you. I think you
already have him rattled, just by being here. Care to step it up a
notch?”

I hopped down off the stool, so did Cole. He
leaned in and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I hugged him
back.

“Congrats,” he whispered.

“Thanks!”

On my way back to the large booth in the
corner, I took a detour. As I passed the man Cole had indicated, I
ran my fingers lightly across his shoulders. When I sat down next
to Guy, I noticed the man had left. Cole smiled at me, patted his
pocket and ducked out the door.

My transceiver buzzed. I turned on the
vidscreen and answered the call.

“Hello?”

Keira appeared. Red curls framed her face.
People hurried past in the distance. A wig and a public
transceiver.

“Brody, I can't see you anymore.” Her eyes
shifted this way and that.

“What?”

“I think we've been spotted at the Dry
Martini.”

“Wait, I...”

“Goodbye, Brody.” She severed the
connection. Was it really over? A year of friendship, gone?

I left my office in a daze and noticed
Irene. Had she been listening in? Had Keira counted on that? I
walked directly to her desk.

Irene studied my face for a moment, then
asked, “Is something wrong, Mr. Delaney?”

I shook my head but otherwise didn't
respond.

“Can I get you something?”

“A cup of tea. Thank you, Irene.” I returned
to my office and ignored the next few calls, but I remembered
Keira's advice and didn't drink the tea Irene set on my desk.

After work, I went to the Dry Martini as
usual. The night was uneventful, how every night used to be.
Drinking alone was never much fun. Later, I returned to my
apartment and listened to some music, but the notes sounded flat. I
tried to read, but the same sentence danced before my eyes. I
should have told her when I had the chance.

Monday morning brought a few surprises. The
first was Irene's resignation. She'd left it on my desk. I
immediately promoted a secretary from the finance department by the
name of Miss Ellis. Then I returned to business as usual and tried
to keep busy. A few hours later, I received a call from the head of
the finance department. If they were calling because I'd snagged
their secretary on such short notice, heads would roll.

Instead, I was informed that a man was
waiting in the conference room with a business proposal. CalTech
was doing just fine, but as a courtesy, I'd listen to his
offer.

“Miss Ellis, would you please join me?” I
explained her duties as we walked down the hall. “It will be your
job to make note of their offer and detail any parameters. They
usually have it in writing as well, but it never hurts to have too
much information. You are to remain silent unless I ask you a
question.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Today's meeting will be good practice for
you. I have no intention of accepting this particular offer.”

“I understand, sir.”

I opened the door and stepped into the room.
With my hand still on the doorknob, I froze and turned to dismiss
Miss Ellis. “I was mistaken. This will be a closed meeting. You may
take an early lunch.”

The final surprise of the day was the
invitation he handed me before he left.

My golden skirt brushed against my legs as I
moved around the room. The lighting enhanced the artwork. It made
each piece stand out, brought each to glory. When I reached the
sound system and pressed “play,” a smooth classical melody provided
the finishing touch.

“It's perfect!”

I turned toward Keira. “I agree. Thank you
so much for being here tonight.”

“Are you practicing your lines?” She smiled
and handed me an official looking black leather folder.

“Maybe a little. Is everything ready?”

“It looks like it. The caterers are.” Keira
tilted her head toward the back room.

“Alright then. This is it!” I walked over to
the front door and released the lock. Not five minutes later, the
first of the artists arrived.

“Kendra, come here. I'd like you to meet
Hisoka Watanabe. He painted the picture we were talking about the
other day.” Keira didn't turn to look at the painting titled “Rainy
Day.” Instead, she remained intent upon the artist. She smiled and
held out her hand.

Hisoka paled slightly. “It's a pleasure to
meet you, Miss...”

Keira didn't speak.

“Miss James,” I finished.

Keira lowered her hand without receiving the
expected handshake.

My brows furrowed. “I'll just leave you two
to get acquainted.”

As I walked away, Keira said, “Mr. Burke
will be here tonight too. Don't act so surprised when you see
him.”

The Burkes were fashionably late. They
paused inside the open doorway and observed the full gallery. A
cool evening breeze meandered by and made my skirt dance. Guy
turned to close the door.

Keira stood on the other side of the room
talking with artist, Natalie Kozlovsky. She created sculptures from
copper wire and glass beads. Keira focused on one in particular, a
unique and beautiful piece. She completely ignored the latest
arrivals.

Guy began with introductions. “Miss LaFleur,
this is my father, Richard Burke, president of Burke Investments.”
Mr. Burke, Sr. stood tall at about six feet and had straight jet
black hair and penetrating blue eyes.

I bowed my head respectfully then looked
into his eyes as an equal. “Thank you for your assistance in making
tonight possible. I must have taken up a good deal of your son's
time.”

“I'd say it was time well spent, wouldn't
you?” His gaze never left my face. I felt like a mouse about to be
devoured by a bobcat. A shiver ran all the way down to my toes as I
realized, this man is a predator.

I signaled to one of the caterers, eager for
a distraction. A young woman appeared at our side and offered
drinks.

Wine glass in hand, Guy continued, “This is
my mother, Beatrice. She has always been supportive of the arts.” A
shimmering blue evening gown enhanced Mrs. Burke's tall slender
frame. A sprig of tiny white flowers was nestled tastefully in her
sandy brown hair.

I smiled warmly at Guy's mother. “Mrs.
Burke, you might enjoy the three paintings in the front display.
They were created by a local artist named Hisoka Watanabe.”

“Hm...” was Guy's only response.

“Thank you.” Beatrice turned to her husband
and curled her fingers in the crook of his arm. “Richard dear,
let's begin in the front and work our way around.”

The next person through the door was a
surprise. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Delaney. It's nice to see you
again.”

He removed his coat and folded it over his
arm. “The place looks wonderful. Your hard work has certainly paid
off.”

“I hope so. There haven't been any sales
yet.”

“Where did you get your training, if I may
ask?”

“At the Art Institute of Parisio. I'm from
Mediterra.” My voice faltered as I noticed Guy's father staring at
me from across the room.

“So you're new in town?”

I nodded lamely.

“You'll have sales,” he said. “Let me be the
first.”

Mr. Burke flew from my thoughts. “But you
couldn't possibly know what you want yet!”

Brody smiled. “Which piece is your
favorite?”

“That one.” I pointed to the sculpture Keira
had been admiring. She now stood on the opposite side of the room,
her full attention on a painting of a waterfall. Guy drifted away
from his parents and toward her. I returned my attention to Brody.
“Would you like to meet the artist?”

“I would love to!”

A minute later, I introduced him to artist,
Natalie Kozlovsky. By the time I pulled myself away, Keira and Guy
were in the middle of a friendly discussion. His parents noticed
and moved in their direction. I walked closer too and pretended to
adjust the label of a nearby painting.

“Richard,” his father said, putting a hand
on Guy's shoulder. It was the only prompt Guy needed.

He turned toward his parents but kept Keira
at his side. “Mother, Father, I would like you to meet Miss Kendra
James from Vanover. She and Miss LaFleur met in Parisio. They're
roommates.”

“Roommates?” Beatrice Burke asked.

“Yes.” Keira's eyes darkened. “After the car
crash, and then my parents...” She began to tear up. “I needed
somewhere to stay, and I didn't want to stay alone.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Guy's mother actually
sounded concerned.

“Parisio?” Mr. Burke's deep voice cut in.
“Do you have family there?”

“Yes, my aunt and uncle. While I was there,
I took some classes at the Art Institute. My mother had hoped I
would develop some skills. She thought it would be a good hobby for
me. Unfortunately, art isn't one of my talents.”

Was Keira actually looking demure? I'd never
really had the chance to watch her work before.

Brody was at my side again. “She's a good
actress.”

I nodded.

“Is she a true friend?”

“The best,” I said.

“I can hardly wait to meet her.”

I turned and looked at him. Keira told me
she'd had to break off the friendship for his safety. Did he really
mean to forgo her sacrifice? Was that why he was here tonight?

“I need a sold sign. Natalie said you have
them.” Brody handed me a cheque.

“Oh, yes. Here you go.”

“She healed up nicely, didn't she?”

“What?”

“From the gunshot wound. You'd never know by
looking at her.”

While Brody went to post the sign, I
returned my attention to Keira. Then he moved closer to them. A
short while later, they were all talking like old friends, and I
was once again left standing alone.

I moved around the room and began
socializing with artists and guests. Brody's prediction had come
true. Paintings and sculptures alike were selling. Tomorrow, I
would carefully package the artwork and hire a delivery service,
but tonight...tonight was for mingling.

Hisoka was telling me about his plans for a
series of paintings featuring prominent Gov buildings throughout
Tkaron when I noticed Brody standing nearby. As soon as we hit a
natural break in the conversation, I politely excused myself. I
wanted to hear more about Hisoka's inspiration for his artwork, but
he would be here all evening.

Brody smiled as I approached. “I wish you
the best of luck with your business, Miss LaFleur.”

“Thank you.” Although my back was to him, I
could feel Hisoka's gaze.

“May I take you out to lunch tomorrow to
celebrate?” Brody asked.

“Um, I guess that would be all right. What
time?”

“How about noon? Will you be here?”

“Yes, I'll see you at noon then.”

He nodded once and turned to go. I watched
as Brody walked out the front door and into the darkness beyond.
Only when he was gone did I return to my conversation with Hisoka.
Again, I felt eyes on me. I turned and saw Beatrice Burke scolding
her husband.

An hour later, only a handful of people
remained. The caterers were just about done cleaning up, and the
artists huddled in a corner near the door, talking amongst
themselves. Guy hadn't left Keira's side since he'd introduced her
to his parents. At some point in the evening, Keira had told me
he'd graciously offered to drive us home. His parents still
lingered, and I remembered they had arrived with him.

I was gathering my coat and purse from the
back room when I heard a slight noise from the doorway. I
turned.

“Would you like to join us?” Hisoka spoke
quietly.

“Us?” I pushed one arm into the sleeve of my
white spring jacket. Hisoka stepped forward and helped me with the
other. Although he stood close, it wasn't uncomfortable.

“Yes.” He never broke eye contact as he
tilted his head toward the other artists who waited near the front
door. “We're going out for some dessert before heading home. You
should join us. After all, our success tonight is because of
you.”

I smiled shyly. “No, no. It's because of all
of you. Your talent is what brought the people here tonight.”

“No. Your talents are what brought them
here. Hopefully, our talents will keep them coming back. So, will
you join us?” He stepped away, leaving the decision entirely up to
me.

I began to shake my head but then looked
past him. Guy's father was once again staring at me. I reached for
Hisoka's arm.

***

“What a success!” Keira said as we entered
Art Fantastique the next morning. Her eyes sparkled as she looked
around at all of the “sold” signs.

“Yes, it was.”

“How does it make you feel?”

“Really good,” I admitted. In the back room,
I set my coat and purse on the table and indicated a pile of
flattened cardboard boxes, soft packaging material and thick rolls
of tape. “Help me bring all this to the front.”

I grabbed my black leather folder with the
list of addresses, and we set to work on the first painting, a
landscape of a meadow in full bloom that was going to the
Burke's.

“How did it go last night?” I asked. Keira
had been asleep by the time I returned home.

“Good, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“It's just Beatrice. She's so condescending.
And Guy's father is a patronizing pig!”

I laughed. “Why don't you tell me how you
really feel?”

Keira threw some packaging material at
me.

“But you expected that, right?” I continued
in a more serious tone.