“Interesting soft brush technique,” I mused.
“You recognize that on sight?”
“Art History major,” I said, handing back the portfolio.
“Really? What have you managed to do with that?”
“I’m the art director at a successful graphic design firm in Las Vegas,” I said without bragging.
“Gosh! Handsome, talented, and a great job! This one’s a keeper, honey!”
I was glad to have so impressed Dixie. Shae’s parents still didn’t like me much, though Chester showed it a lot less than Diane, whose seething malice was almost palpable. However, Dixie was the one whose opinion Shae seemed to hold in the highest regard, and she struck me as someone who didn’t suffer fools gladly, or at all. Definitely a win.
We were the last to leave our table as it turned dark, most of the attendees rushing inside, no doubt to gossip about Dixie and her numerous acts of rebellion. One of those was most likely being friendly with me, the home-wrecking interloper — despite the fact Shae was already divorced when we met.
“You’re not going to leave me for Grandma Dixie, are you?” Shae asked as we made our way to the house.
I hummed a minute as I held her hand. “Well, she clearly likes younger guys and, judging by her portfolio, could definitely use some younger models.”
She gasped playfully. “I knew it! You’re trying to steal my grandma away!”
“Guilty as charged.”
We both laughed, and I kissed her gently. It was the most fun we’d had in a while, the stress of the upcoming reunion weighing down on both of us. The worst of it was over, and we had made it out alive. It felt terrific to be making such a close connection to Shae and her grandma. I was starting to see where Shae got some of her wildness that was beginning to show itself.
We went to our room and I penny locked the door, putting a chair under the knob for good measure to keep us from being disturb. Particular if Shae was feeling frisky. Alone, at last, we gently undressed each other until we were both naked.
Shae took my hand, leading me to bed, where we cuddled until we fell asleep. She was a bit too drained for any funny business. As I listened to her softly breathing beside me, I realized that I had gotten a hint of what it might be like to be in a family who really understood me and my mad devotion to art.
Chapter Eleven
Shae
I was awake first. It was something of a rarity but I was so excited I could understand why. Chris had morning wood like he usually did. I gave a moment’s thought to climbing up on him for a nice wakeup call but decided to just let him sleep.
Undoing Chris’s extra security, I pulled on some sweats and a T-shirt over my wonton nakedness, left the safety of our room, and ventured downstairs. I knew I was going to have to have it out with Ellis eventually, and I might as well get it over with and out of the way. He would probably be upset and definitely huffy, but I didn’t care. I’d seen him huffy before and was no longer afraid of him.
There was no one around when I got downstairs. It must have been very early indeed. Both Mom and Dad were used to waking up with the rooster. I checked out the window to make sure it was actually light, confirming I hadn’t just imagined the whole thing. I was, in fact, in the living room of my family’s lavish two-floor lake house.
Through the almost total silence, I heard a light brushing sound coming from the dining room. Figuring it to be some poor creature trapped somewhere, I went to free it, finding Grandma Dixie instead. She had everything set up for painting and was sitting at the head of the table near one of the big windows.
“Oh, good morning, darlin’.”
“What are you doing, Grandma?”
“Paintin’, what does it look like?”
“Now?” I asked, going around to see what she was painting.
“The light is best at this time of day.”
I had nothing to say to that and not only because Chris was the subject of her most recent painting. I comforted myself with the fact that at least he wasn’t naked. His body was actually a bit of a blur at the time, but the face of the painting was very well rendered and immediately recognizable.
“I would like to see some of his advertisements,” Dixie said, not looking away from her work.
As though it were a magical command, I got my phone from the pocket of my sweatpants and looked for some of the firm’s work online. There were a few still images from billboard campaigns and a handful of videos of Sure Things’ advertisements. I wasn’t sure what to show her until I came across a sort of montage, including several pieces from the last few years. It was part of a series called The Art of Advertising hosted on a free streaming site.