Cracked to Death (24 page)

Savannah and Keith looked at each other for a second. Keith motioned for Savannah to answer.

“It's extremely important that the glassworks in the museum stay dust free. It's not such an issue in Seattle, but here in hot, sandy Florida, it's quite a challenge. Each visitor brings in a bit of the outside and it's impossible to control that. So someone needs to dust the priceless and very fragile exhibits without breaking them. That's what students learn to do.”

“Oh.” Edward looked sheepish. “Duh.”

“Don't feel bad.” Savannah squeezed Edward's arm. “It's not particularly obvious.”

“Anyway,” said Keith, “I'm here to check up on the program and also to help one of them with setting up an exhibit booth tomorrow at Spinnaker.”

“You have a student in the show?”

“Yes, he was admitted in good time so that we could arrange the intern position with the Chihuly Museum. Another of my former students, Megan Loyola, has also been accepted into the festival. She reminds me very much of you.” Keith nodded toward Savannah.

“How so?”

“She's wicked smart and has a genius for inventing glass techniques to form something completely different and spectacular. I can't wait for you to see her work.”

“Hey, you're not trying to influence a judge are you?”

Keith shook his head. “No chance. You are your father's daughter; he was unbelievably ethical. The interns are Vincent O'Neil and Leon Price. Vincent is a good craftsman with broad technical and mechanical knowledge. Leon, however, is a bit of an uptight urbanite and that rigidly controlled approach comes out in his work. They're sharing living and travel expenses. Leon is the one who has an exhibit booth at the Spinnaker Art Festival. Vincent applied, but didn't make the cut.”

Edward shifted a bit and signaled the bartender for another round. He turned to Savannah. “Have you told Keith about your new project?”

“Not yet.” She looked crossly at Edward. “I'm still in the investigation stage.”

“What new project?” Keith drained the last of his beer.

“I'm going to open a new glass studio in this area. It will be the largest in the South once I've got it up and running.”

“Wow, that's the kind of success we hope our students will achieve after they leave. Will it be in this area of town?”

“Only a few blocks south of here in an up-and-coming new industrial park district. It will be an artist's loft space with reasonable rental rates on a month-by-month plan. As an incentive to the eternally cash-strapped prospective client, I'm offering the space without a long-term lease.”

“How much square footage?”

“I'm thinking over ten thousand square feet. Part of that will be an exhibit space. That will give my students a transition phase between student and professional artist. There will also be a media room for presentations and tutorials.”

Edward shifted in his seat. “But you're keeping the original Webb's as well?”

“Absolutely.” She sipped her beer. “That building has been in the family forever and is the anchor store in that block. It's absolutely perfect for beginners—but not for the intermediate- to advanced-level artists.”

“Wow, Savannah,” said Keith with emotion cracking his voice. “I predicted great things from your skill and talent, but this fantastic news is beyond my expectations. What are you going to call it? Where is it going to be?”

“Webb's Studio is the working title I'm using until I register it as a business name and have my accountant file the corporation paperwork. He'll organize a name search to make sure it's unique, but I think it is.” She smiled. “I've been looking at some available warehouse properties a little south of where we're sitting. I think I've found a candidate location.”

Edward lifted his glass. “A toast to the success of Webb's Studio.” The three glasses clinked in perfect harmony.