Every Night (Brush of Love 1)

“Guilty as charged. I actually tried the diner a couple days ago. They have tremendous—”

“Milkshakes?” he asked.

“Yes. Oh my gosh, they’re splendid. And their whipped creams have different flavors.”

“I love the pistachio whipped cream,” he said.

“Oh, I’m a sucker for anything banana,” I said.

We laughed lightly for a little bit, reveling in the tidbit of information we had in common. His eyes seemed to sparkle with the smile that rolled across his features, and it was a lot like the sparkle in his brother’s eyes whenever John would wipe his paintbrush across a canvas.

I felt a pang of guilt boiling in my stomach as Bryan’s voice ripped me from my trance.

“What are you building here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“An art gallery,” I said.

“An art gallery.” He nodded as he glanced around the room. “I could see it.”

“Oh, you can, huh?” I asked.

“Well, I’m an architect by trade, and I own a construction company here in town, so part of me was interested in what the new owner was turning this into.”

“Wait, you do construction?” I asked.

“I do,” he said, grinning.

“Come here.”

I took his hand and yanked him into the middle of the room. Finally, someone with some knowledge of the subject I could use to bounce my ideas off of.

“All right, so here’s my vision,” I began. “Floor tiles the color of onyx and cream-colored walls. The canvases that will be showcased on the walls for sale will be encased in bird's-eye maple.”

“Bird’s-eye maple?” he asked.

“Yep. I want to have other frames in different types of wood, though. All different sizes eventually. Purpleheart, Cocobolo, East Indian Rosewood, and so on.”

“Sounds beautiful,” he said.

The man couldn’t have paid me a better compliment if he had actually tried.

“They’ll line both sides of the shop with one or two, in particular, being displayed without a frame in the window.”

“You’ll have to build a platform into the wall that can house the displays,” he said. “And from the looks of the sheetrock you’ve torn away, you’ll need some seriously updated electrical as well as some help fixing insulation. I would think the humidity from the ocean would warp your paintings if the place isn’t properly insulated.”

“Yes, it would.” I actually hadn’t thought about that, but it was a good idea. I was interested in hiring someone who had good ideas, especially someone who could find little things like that that hadn’t crossed my mind yet.

“The register will be here in the back, and this little alcove area will be curtained off.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Well, I don't want people seeing a place they pay at when they first walk into the gallery. That’s tacky to me. Eventually, I want to use the broad space in the middle for art classes and therapy.”

“Therapy?” he asked.

Shit. I’d run my mouth for too long.

“I’ve lived in various places, and every time I go to a new place, I always seem to attract people who need help. So, I started using the one thing I knew I was good at. I started teaching people how to paint and draw, and all they had to do was show up.”