Luca checked his watch for the third time and scanned the hall for the familiar rich auburn hair. Rafael joined him after breaking away from a gaggle of ladies nearby.
"Claire's late," he voiced Luca's thought and pouted.
After their cliff diving session, Luca had planned for them to visit a local eatery and talk about their relationship, when Claire was called back to the hospital for an emergency procedure. They had shared a quick passionate kiss before he drove her to her workplace and she promised to meet up with him the following day. But he had not seen her since then.
She did call him during a brief lunch break two days ago, sounding extremely tired, "I can't leave for a while. There was staff shortage and Marie's assistant had fallen ill. I haven't been home for two days actually. I'll be lucky if I can go home tonight."
"It's okay. Will you be able to make it for the exhibition this Friday?"
"I won't miss it for the world," she had reassured.
Luca adjusted his navy blue tie and breathed in deeply. He had chosen to wear a white pinstriped shirt with his black pant suit and shoes for the event. He would have gone for his normal black tie, had Claire not suggested they wear something of similar colour.
"She'll make it somehow."
Rafael gave him an amused look before they joined the crowd who had turned up for the Parisian National Biennale.
The art festival was held every two years to commemorate art from all corners of France and Paris was chosen to host the event this year. The theme was "Belle Rose" to coincide with the spring season as Paris was famous for its rose gardens. The Lambert Manor was transformed into a temporary art gallery for the event. Guests were allowed to access certain areas of the gardens adjacent to the mansion that were lit with fairy lights to admire the blooming flowers.
While many would go for cherry blossoms and spring paintings as observed throughout the hallways of the art gallery tonight, Luca wanted something different. He wanted to paint a series of painting over the four seasons, projecting emotional growth over that period of time, not necessarily unlike that of an actual rose. Rafael had been particularly taken in by this aspect of his proposal when he presented it to the committee. Luca was immensely proud to be selected to represent their prefecture and now as a finalist in the juried exhibition.
"Luca, congratulations on being a finalist!"
"Thank you, Mr. Moreau."
The elderly man, who was part of the judging panel, looked around covertly and leaned down to half whisper, "I'm not supposed to say this, but your portraits have garnered very positive interest among the juries so far. I have a very good feeling about this."
"You think so, sir?"
Rafael looked more excited at the prospect of winning the competition compared to him. It would boost our cultural status throughout the nation. Not that we needed it.
"Now, where is your muse? I must meet her. Ah, there is Mr. Alexander Mercier. He's one of the juries this year. Come, we must greet him."
Luca was steered over before he could say anything. Mr. Moreau introduced him and Luca greeted him formally.
The crimson-haired man returned the greetings accordingly. It felt like an act, pretending he did not know him. The man still had that same penetrating look. He wore a black pant suit with a white shirt and black striped tie underneath, which accentuated his red hair.
"How are you enjoying the night, Mr. Mercier? Everyone's excited about the winner tonight. Not to mention the auction right after," Rafael made conversation. Luca could see the glint of interest in his blue eyes.
