An Eye for Art

Chapter Ten

The day was coming to a close as the night blossomed the world to its lavish lives. People partied, drank, leisured expensively at dinners, but this was the first evening the world had access to our collaborated exhibition. At the beginning of December, we were bringing society one focal point in Providence to experience all of the gleeful memories of artists around them, thanks to Zach and I.

The gallery opened up at 7 pm, and people flocked in with eyes reawakening at the art displayed in front of them. Photographs of children playing in the snow, whimsical glass blowings, painted gatherings by the fire, and more decorated the white pillars and walls. Brilliant white lights shined down on every piece of art, highlighting their features against the blue fairy lights dangling around the room. Observing the reactions of those wandering, I stood near the back of the gallery.

"Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?" Zach said, approaching me. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. I didn't think my outfit was that great. . . crimson.

"Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine." He bowed. "So, what are you thinking about your first exhibition?" I shook my head in astonishment, still watching the people gleam at the displayed pieces.

"It's fantastic. There's a multitude of people here, wanting to appreciate the art these artists put out, and that's all I could have asked for." Zach zoned into my words while observing the guests. "My father's life was dedicated to appreciating art. While his work was slightly different than what's in front of us, appreciation was his goal, and I inherited that goal from him. It gives me fulfillment, and I think this is the kind of job I want after college." Turning his head, I could sense Zach's eyes scoping me down.

"This job is yours if you want it after graduation," he offered. Chucking, I firmed my lips together.

"That's funny, Zach. I'm sure I'll probably just find a job somewhere else."

"Why would you do that?" He responded, a ting of hurt riding on his words, "I'm serious about giving you the job."

"I-I. . . I-It's just. . ." I turned toward him. "I've only done it for one season. I would love the opportunity, and I appreciate it, but I think I want to knock out the spring before you extend the position to me." Zach's face was curled into discomfort. His eyes scanned my face before nodding in thought.

"I understand," he sighed.

"Thank you," I gleamed, turning back to observe the faces of our guests. Champagne and appetizers roamed the room with juice for the kids, and artists spoke with gawkers and buyers. Everyone's faces here: the artists, the guests, and the staff. Everyone was jovial.

Ashlan strolled up to me with a young bachelor looped around her arm.

"Hey, Ashlan!" I smiled, stretching my arms out as an invitation. She unraveled her arm from the man and pulled me into a hug.

"Hey! I thought I'd stop by to see your set up, it's looking alright."

"Ha, thanks," I chuckled, "Who's this?" Ashlan rejoined the man's side as he introduced himself.

"Good evening, my name's Scott." I shook his hand; he had a firm grip to match his dominating confidence. His aura synchronized with Ashlan's quite well.

"Good evening, my name is Adilene."

"It's quite nice to meet you, Adilene." Polite. "Ashlan invited me to take a look at the work you've been doing setting up this season's gallery. I do have to say, this is quite splendid for your first time." Respectable, how did Ashlan find a guy like that?