The Wedding Setup, page 18
“My friend Jonathan’s piece. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It really is. It’s really incredible how many talented artists live in this little town.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”
She laughed. “I don’t mean to sound like a snob—it’s surprising, is all. I mean, who’s heard of this city? You hear fine art, you think New York, Paris, not Loveland, Colorado. No offense.”
He continued to stare at her, one eyebrow raised, and then he laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m just giving you a hard time. Of course it’s surprising. That’s part of the charm, I think. People in cities get so used to being the epicenter of the world. But actually, talented, lovely people exist everywhere you go. And small towns can really surprise you.”
“I guess you’re right.”
She followed him inside, more surprised by what he’d said than she let on. They’d spent their teen years complaining about their small town almost endlessly, both desperate to escape. Then, once in the city, Stuart had really dived into gay New York life. He’d been more of a New Yorker than she was, really. He explored more, knew more cool hotspots to hang out, and had lived in various, hip places all over Manhattan and Brooklyn. She wouldn’t know half the venues she frequented without his introduction to them.
When he’d lived there, he’d seemed to love it. And now here he was, waxing poetic about small-town life. It was a complete and entire reversal. She’d certainly known he thought this way now, at least to some extent, as he was clearly happy here, but hearing him say it was another thing entirely. It made her suddenly melancholy about losing him all over again. Some part of her had always hoped he’d come home, and she understood now that it would never happen.
Once inside, Stuart took her coat and ushered her into the studio spaces, pointing out the work of his fellow artists, all of which was in various stages of completion. Some of the artists were here, but many of the spaces were empty except for the partially finished work. She saw a wide array of different styles, ranging from a few artists who did people, another who did animals, like Maddie, and others, like Stuart, who did more abstract pieces. Altogether, fifteen artists were in residence, with several interns and students.
“This is really something, Stuart,” she said. She was impressed despite early misgivings. She’d been afraid she’d have to fake enthusiasm. Instead, what she saw was like something out of the high Renaissance—a significant collective of talented artists working together in a shared space. She’d never heard of anything like it on this scale outside of a major city.
“Isn’t it cool?” He was beaming, clearly excited. “Just wait until you see my new piece. It’s back here.”
He literally dragged her forward, her shorter legs struggling to keep up, his hand pulling hers with eager haste. They rounded a corner, and she knew his work at once, even though she’d never seen this piece before. It was enormous—larger than anything she’d seen him work on. It stretched nearly to the ceiling of this large warehouse, so twenty or more feet high. It was clearly incomplete, but she had a sense of the piece immediately. It was made of tall, thin pieces of metal, each overlapping another slightly taller piece. It looked, from this angle, like an enormous wildfire, with leaping, tall flames that almost seemed to crackle with heat. But when they circled to the front of the sculpture, the fire transformed into a forest of pine trees.
Stuart’s expression had become deadly serious, troubled even, and he was watching her closely. She walked back to see the fire again, only to move a few feet to the right before the trees appeared once more. Tears welled up in her eyes, a strong pride sweeping through her and tightening her throat.
“I don’t know what to say, Stuart.” She could barely talk, and her words came out almost as a whisper.
“Do you like it?” he asked, his voice also quiet, pinched.
“It’s one of the most remarkable things I’ve ever seen.”
The smile that cracked his face then was like the sun breaking over the mountains. He leapt at her, pulling her into a fierce hug, and the two of them hopped up and down a couple of times, laughing. Pulling away, they both had to wipe at their eyes.
“Jeez,” she said. “Warn me a little next time before you completely blow my mind, would you?”
He laughed again, throwing an arm over her shoulder and squeezing her. “Okay. The next time I make something half as good, I’ll let you know.”
“How does it work?”
He began explaining how he’d created the optical illusion, showing her from different angles how each piece of hammered steel could be two things at once. They climbed ladders to see the piece from higher up, so she could see the different side of the same piece of metal—one a part of a flame, the other, a part of a tree. He was clearly thrilled, and she continually caught herself remembering that uncertain, worried expression earlier. It was almost as if he hadn’t believed in it himself until she’d told him how good it was. Now, permission given, he was genuinely elated, yammering away so quickly and boisterously that some of the other artists came by to listen to his lecture, clearly interested in hearing about the piece themselves. Eventually, they began asking him pointed questions about technique that she couldn’t follow. She stood to the side, watching him gesture and speak, her heart swelling again. Someone touched her elbow, and she turned to see Maddie’s smiling face.
“He’s incredible, isn’t he?” Maddie asked.
“He really is. I don’t know when I’ve ever been so proud of someone.”
Maddie’s smile was almost as wide as Stuart’s. “Me either. I think this will be the piece people will remember him for.”
“Me, too.” She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry, and returned her attention to Stuart to avoid Maddie’s scrutiny.
“Are you here for your studio hours?” she asked, risking another glance at her.
“Nope,” Maddie said. “Just came to pick you up. I finished my last class for the day. The college is right around the corner.” She paused, her gaze dropping down and sweeping up Ryann’s body. “Nice outfit, by the way. Picturing it and seeing it are really something else.”
Ryann’s heart hammered, and she almost reacted inappropriately. She kept silent, and eventually she managed to focus on Stuart’s lecture. She wasn’t surprised to see that more of the other artists and what she assumed were some of the students had joined the crowd. Stuart was obviously very happy to have people interested in his work. She glanced up at Maddie again and saw that she, too, was listening raptly. Ryann flushed with happy pride again. Whatever strange happenstance had brought him to this town, it was clearly the place he was meant to be.
He wrapped up, blushing a little when several people clapped and whistled. A few wanted to shake his hand, and she and Maddie shared an amused look, Maddie rolling her eyes. He joined them a few minutes later, a little sheepish and clearly embarrassed by the adulation, but she could tell he was proud of himself, too, and with good reason.
“That was really interesting,” she told him.
He waved a hand dismissively. “Okay, thanks. I’m sorry I kind of went off on a tangent there.”
“No, it was really cool—what I could follow and what I couldn’t. You should be a professor or a teacher.”
“Ha!” Maddie said, pointing at him. “That’s what I keep saying. I’ve been telling him to adjunct a class or two over at the college, just to see if he likes it. He’d be great.”
“You would,” she said.
He rolled his eyes. “Okay—maybe I’ll think about it. Nothing could happen ’til next fall, of course.”
“Of course,” Maddie said, smiling. “Anytime you want, let me know, and I’ll introduce you to my chair.”
“I’ll do that.” He was deep in thought before shaking his head. “Never thought I’d actually want to teach, but maybe I’d be good at it. I think you’re right, Maddie.”
“I know I am.”
“Okay, know-it-all. Let’s go see your new piece. I want Ryann to see it before you guys leave.”
Maddie’s expression clouded. “Boy, I don’t know, Stuart. It’s going to be a letdown after seeing yours.”
Ryann laughed and took Maddie’s hand. “Oh my God! You artists are all the same. Take me to it, would you? I’m sure it’s lovely.”
Maddie still seemed a little uncertain, but she led Ryann to the art space just beyond Stuart’s. A wall stood between each artist’s area, but they were otherwise open. Ryann saw the dogs Maddie had described, and her heart lifted with wonder. Each of the animals had a distinct personality. The larger one on the right was that kind of messy mutt used in Disney films—no real distinct breed, just wild hair and crazy, lopsided ears. It was standing up, alert, his tongue lolling out, his expression open and friendly. The other dog was sitting in that funny way dogs do sometimes, one hind leg extended forward from its haunches. It had a funny, squishy face with bug eyes—a pug, she remembered.
“Wow,” she said, smiling at Maddie. “They’re amazing.”
Maddie colored slightly and gave her an uncertain smile. “Thank you.”
She walked closer, realizing now that the dogs were made of clay. From farther away, it had seemed like stone. Having seen Maddie’s other piece, she realized now that she must work in bronze almost exclusively. This clay would eventually be covered in a kind of rubber or silicone to make a mold for the metal. Stuart had done a few pieces like this before his transition to hammered metal, but some of his current works were done this way, too.
Up close, she could see individual tufts and strands of fur on the dogs—the detail so lifelike, it seemed almost soft, pettable. The dogs’ expressions were the real magic, however. Both had eyes that seemed alive, mouths ready to lick or bark. She turned to Maddie again.
“They’re incredible. I can barely believe they’re not actual dogs, even standing right next to them.”
Maddie’s face underwent a series of expressions from shock to pleasure to uncertainty and back to pleasure again, and she and Stuart couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re ridiculous,” he said, pushing her lightly.
“You both are,” Ryann added. “You’re both absurdly talented, and you would think you’d know that about yourself. You should both be proud of your work. I am.”
They looked embarrassed then, and she chuckled again before giving them both a quick embrace. Maddie seemed surprised when she turned her way but, after a moment’s hesitation, hugged her back.
“Shit,” Stuart said, glancing at his watch. “If you two don’t leave now, you’re going to be late.”
“Oh, crap,” Maddie said, glancing at hers. “I think we are. It’s clear on the other side of town.”
“The caterer?” she asked, only now remembering the plan. The others nodded. “You’re not coming with, Stuart?”
“No. I’m already seriously behind for the day. But like I said—today’s the last of my obligations for a while except for some phone calls later this week. I’m open after today through to the wedding.”
She remembered that she would miss most of his free time because of her trip to London. She also realized that she hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him about it. I’ll do it later, she thought.
“Okay. Let’s get going then,” Maddie said, taking her hand.
They picked up her coat on the way out, and she thought little of the fact that they joined hands again until they were outside and Maddie was letting go to get inside the Bronco. She might not have even thought of it at all, except that her hand felt strangely empty now, incomplete, without Maddie’s warm one in hers. She squeezed it into a fist, cursing herself and her weakness.
Damn it, she thought.
Chapter Sixteen
They drove in silence, which seemed comfortable on Maddie’s end, to judge from her placid expression. Ryann, on the other hand, was tortured with nerves. Once or twice, she thought to ask Maddie why she hadn’t called or contacted her since the kiss two days ago. She wondered if Maddie, like her, had realized they’d gotten carried away, made a mistake. After all, Maddie had been reluctant to kiss her even then. But then, they’d held hands in the studio, and Maddie had complimented her clothes. It was all so confusing and contradictory.
She watched the town pass without speaking, not willing to risk an awkward conversation or, possibly, a fight. In the end, she didn’t want to know what the woman thought about it all. It was too painful to imagine the kiss or the flirting had meant nothing to her, but on the other hand, that was the best option. If it had meant something more, then where were they now?
They were running about ten minutes behind when they finally made it to the catering company, another anonymous building in the middle of nowhere north of town. She was starting to get the impression that everything here in Colorado was known by word of mouth only. How anyone would see this building and know it housed anything but boxes and crates was beyond her. It didn’t even have a sign.
“Is this the only caterer they’re considering?” Ryann asked as they climbed out of the car.
“Yep.”
She stopped, holding up a hand. “So let me get this straight. They’re considering five bakeries, but only one caterer?”
Maddie laughed. “Not exactly. They actually wanted a choice of caterers, but it was the same problem as most of the other businesses—everyone was booked up. Still, this place is really good. I’ve been to some events that used them.”
“So what are we doing here?”
“Deciding on the main courses, hors d’oeuvres, and sides.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s all?”
Maddie laughed again and then stepped toward her, brushing a curl of hair off her face. She realized, perhaps for the first time in her life, that it was actually possible for her heart to skip a beat. She held her breath, waiting, her lips unconsciously parting. Maddie stepped forward, almost flush, and then pulled her even closer with her hands on Ryann’s lower back before kissing her. Maddie’s kiss began light, almost ghost-like on her lips, before deepening. She heard herself whimper slightly and tried to move closer, meeting Maddie’s passion with her own. Finally, Maddie drew back, her eyes dark, her grin almost smug.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for the last hour.”
“Me, too,” she admitted.
“So why didn’t you call me yesterday?”
She laughed. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I guess I thought you were angry with me. You were kind of drunk. I shouldn’t have—”
She kissed Maddie again to quiet her, and they stood there in the parking lot exploring each other’s lips for an immeasurable beat of time. They might have stayed there longer, but for the sound of someone clearing their throat. They jumped back slightly, embarrassed, seeing a slight, young, blond man standing in the doorway to the building.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt, but are you my two thirty?” he asked.
“Yes,” Maddie said, her face scarlet. “Sorry about that. And sorry we’re late.”
He waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry—I’ve seen it all before out here. There’s something about this parking lot and soon-to-be newlyweds. It, uh,” he cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows, “it has an effect on people.”
All three laughed, and before she could even think to correct him for the misunderstanding, he was gesturing them inside and disappearing behind the door.
“Do you want me to tell him who we are?” Maddie asked as they made their way inside to meet him.
She shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter. This is the last one, so we might as well keep up the charade.”
Maddie’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean ‘the last one’? We still have all sorts of places to go tomorrow and later this week.”
She opened her mouth to explain, then shut it, shaking her head. “Never mind. My mistake.” She didn’t want to get into the fact that she was leaving soon.
Maddie frowned, but she seemed to have let it go by the time they got inside. A long, narrow table was set up in this small front room, the young man they’d seen on the far side. He gestured to the two seats across from him, and before they sat down, Maddie took their coats and hats to the rack. She was always doing that for her, Ryann realized, smiling at the idea of being cared for in that way—silently and without explanation or motive. The young man caught this secret smile and winked at her before Maddie joined them again, and her face reddened at being caught.
“Okay,” he said, bowing dramatically. “I’m Giorgio, and welcome to Love Bites.”
She snorted at the name, and Maddie squeezed her hand a little roughly under the edge of the table to silence her.
“I understand the two of you are under a bit of a time constraint, which means we have to do all of this today. Any dietary restrictions?”
“I don’t eat a lot of pork, but I will today if it makes things easier,” Ryann said. “Otherwise, no.”
“I’m wide open,” Maddie added.
“I hate to say it, but good!” Giorgio laughed. “And I hope you both came hungry. We’re going to begin with the hors d’oeuvres.”
He clapped twice, and several catering staff appeared from two doors behind him, all carrying small silver trays of food. Eventually ten trays were set on Giorgio’s side of the table, each with two of everything on it—one for each of them to try. The last staff member dropped off a pile of tiny plastic forks, and soon the three of them were alone again.
“How many do we choose for a wedding?” she asked him.
“As many as you like,” he replied.
She and Maddie shared a glance, and Maddie looked a little lost. She tried to think back to the last event she’d thrown with hors d’oeuvres, but that had been a lavish, over-the-top affair, and it hadn’t been a dinner, which meant the appetizers had been the only real food besides the charcuterie and crudité table. With a wedding, these were usually served during the cocktail hour before dinner while the wedding party took pictures.
