One Last Dance | R. Grayson

[01] Art And The Artist

Erica's life was contrastingly much more tranquil compared to the fast-paced life Richard led.

Her mornings started with an hour of meditation and a mild aerobic workout at home. After that, she would take a light breakfast and then go to her studio where she spent most of her time painting.

The studio she worked in was a spacious room with large windows and no furniture. Easels were set up with one stool that could be used with either of the canvases. In the corner was a small table for placing materials if needed.

She had been busy recently and spent entire days holed up in her studio. Her work was going to be displayed at a private art gallery that week so she was finalizing the art pieces that had to be exhibited there.

Erica wasn't new to the world of art and curators. She had promoted several young artists herself, being an active curator for a well-known art gallery a few years back. But now she preferred watching the new talent from the sidelines, contributing occasionally with her paintings as well for fundraiser projects or private exhibitions.

As a result, her life was very peaceful and rippled forward as a calm water stream bound on a fixed course.

She had settled way earlier than other people her age did and was content in the solitary yet independent life she led, feeling that there was nothing more she could ask for.

But fate has a habit of proving the short-sighted human mind very wrong and that happened with Erica as well when her simple life got intertwined with the adventurous life of the young and ambitious detective Grayson.

Her first meeting with Richard Grayson was at the precinct headquarters where her cousin Walter Jones was the captain. After that, she had occasionally seen him whenever she was called in to make a sketch or sometimes he would stop by the coffee shop near the headquarters where she too stopped by for a snack whenever she was in the vicinity.

Other than that, Erica seldom left her cozy little apartment so her connection with the outside world was to a bare minimum.

So she was mostly detached from the current affairs of the city but was up to date with the crimes recorded as her help would often be needed at the headquarters.

That evening she had to attend the opening night of a private art gallery where she was exhibiting her work alongside several other artists. The art gallery belonged to Monica Hughes, a well-known art collector who had bought several paintings from Erica in the past.

She had reached before the gallery would be opened to the public as she was looking after the arrangements as well. Being the only artist who had the experience of managing public events as the rest were quite new to the field, she had to be the one guiding them.

Her paintings were put on display and she was making sure that the new artists felt comfortable. In a short while, the chief guests arrived for the inauguration and the exhibition officially began. She looked happy, meeting people from her field and past acquaintances in the form of art dealers and collectors.

It seemed like her kind of event; a place she was comfortable in, doing something she loved and meeting people she felt comfortable with as she knew them to some extent.

As she was making sure that everything was going smoothly, she caught sight of another familiar face among the people passing by the exhibits. She paused as she had not expected him to be there. But before she could think of approaching him, she felt a hand touch her arm lightly and turned to see Monica.

She smiled as she greeted her, maintaining a light conversation with the woman who was ecstatic to see the turn-up of visitors at her art gallery.

By the time Erica looked back, he seemed to have vanished.