You Say It First
Page 46
He bent closer and studied the stars. They weren’t decorations, they were buttons, with glass centers and some kind of enameling surrounding the glass. The colors were perfect—teal and purple, with a hint of creamy yellow.
“The design is Indian,” Violet told him. “They’re antique—if I had to guess, I’d say they’re maybe three hundred years old. Aren’t they amazing?”
“Where did you find them?”
“Oh, I have buyers all over the world sending me buttons. It’s a real thing,” she added as he stared at her. “An expat found these in a market. They were just sitting in a box, gathering dust. So she sent them to me. I’ve had them a couple of years. I’ve been waiting for the right project.” She sighed. “I’d thought this was it.”
“It still is. Nova and Joel will get married.”
“I know, it’s just I wanted to be there to see the dresses being worn.”
He walked to the sink in the corner of the studio and washed his hands, then returned to the dress. He studied the beadwork at the neckline, then the decorations. “You have any extras of these?”
“Sure. In case one falls off or something.” She pulled several headpieces out of the suitcase, then a small clear plastic box with several glittering buttons inside.
He liked the way the glass caught the light and reflected it back against the enamel. The combination of bright against dark was exactly what he’d been looking for. He hadn’t known how to make it happen in two-dimensional form until now.
“The dress,” he said.
Violet shivered. “You are not painting that beautiful wedding gown. You can’t.”
“I hadn’t started when she called to cancel, but that’s only because I couldn’t figure out what to do. You’ve given me an idea.”
“Then I take it back.”
“Wait and be amazed.”
He pulled an overhead projector on a cart out of a deep closet and wheeled it to the center of the room, facing a blank white wall. Nick used an extension cord to plug in the projector. While Violet watched, he dug a file folder out of his desk and started slapping clear plastic sheets on the top of the projector. The image of blown-up lace appeared on the wall.
“Here’s the basic pattern of the lace on her dress,” he said.
Violet walked to the wall. Her knee-high boots clicked on the concrete floors. She raised her hand to outline the lace.
“I thought it was a simple pattern that repeated, but it’s not. See how this is almost a modified fleur-de-lis but on the other side, it’s more swirly.” She smiled. “You’re the artist. What’s the technical term?”
“Swirly works.”
“So how does this relate to my buttons?”
He replaced the black-and-white sheet with one he’d painted. “The tones are off,” he said as he walked to the screen. “The teal is too dull. And the yellow blows. I thought it was the paint hue, but looking at your buttons I’m thinking that’s not it at all.”
He opened a cabinet filled with small tubes of paint. Violet followed him and moaned when she saw the messy display. “Oooh, I want that. I could never justify the cost of so many paints, but still. I have envy.”
“I’ve never heard that before.”
“Paint envy? It’s real. We don’t like to talk about it much. You know—the stigma.”
Violet was pretty enough, he thought absently. It would be easy to steer the conversation from friendly to flirty. All it would take were a few words and the right tone. Only he didn’t want to. While he wasn’t willing to put a name on what he had with Pallas, she was important to him. He would never hurt her or disrespect her.
“There’s probably a twelve-step program for your paint obsession,” he told her. “You could get help.”
“I’ll suffer in silence.”
He found the color he was looking for. A milky opal that had a touch of iridescence. After grabbing a small brush and a square of cardboard, he returned to the overhead and studied the button.
“It’s the way the light hits the enamel,” he said, more to himself than her. “The glass and the...”
He squeezed paint onto the cardboard before dipping his brush and dabbing it onto the plastic sheet. “That’s not right.”
He collected more paints and a palette, then went to work blending. Violet picked up several brushes and sheets of thick, white paper. Together they worked with the teals and purples until they found the right combination of light and dark, with the slightest hint of glimmer.
Nick put a blank sheet over the painted one and quickly outlined the lace with a permanent marker. He filled in the various colors, following the sample they’d created. When he was done, he looked at the wall.
“That’s it,” Violet breathed. “Oh wow. That’s it.” She reached for the marker and touched it to the painting, creating dark dots. “I’ll put the extra buttons in these spots. I have enough. They’ll pick up the paint.”
“Perfect.” The dress would be unique to Nova and Joel’s world, but elegant. “You should sew those on first. I don’t know if the paint will crack on the fabric. Best not to bend it too much before the wedding.”
“You have the dress?”
He nodded at a closet. “You can take it with you and bring it back when you’re done.”
“Should I sign a receipt or something?”
“Because you’re going to steal it?”
“I guess not.”
The door to the studio opened and Ronan walked in. Nick was surprised. Since the fight, they’d been careful to avoid each other. But with limited workspace, they were bound to cross paths.
Ronan took one look at him, glared, then turned on his heel and left. Violet cleared her throat.
“He doesn’t know me from a rock, so I’m guessing I’m not the one he’s mad at.”
“Ronan and I are working through some issues.”
“It’s not going very well, is it?”
“No.”
“Carol and I couldn’t be more different, but we’re still close. You and Ronan need to work out your stuff.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
“Fine. Ignore me. I don’t mind. I’ll talk to Pallas and she’ll bug you about it.”
“You know that we’re seeing each other?”
Violet grinned. “She’s my friend, Nick. In fact all her friends know. We just don’t talk about it to you.” Her humor faded. “But I will admit that if it comes to a floor fight, we’re all team Pallas.”
“So am I.”
* * *
PALLAS HAD EXCEEDED her allotted mope time and yet still found herself bummed about the canceled wedding. She wasn’t sure why she was so upset. Of course she felt bad for Nova losing her father so much sooner than expected, but it was more than that. She had a nagging sense of having lost something important.
Monday night she made her way to The Boardroom for the weekly tournament. She was hoping some fast-paced fun would improve her mood. If nothing else, she would hang out with Nick and that was always good.
She arrived and found he had already claimed a table. He was chatting with Mathias and Natalie, which gave her the chance to simply watch him.
The man made her heart beat faster, she thought with a sigh. Not just because he was pretty to look at but because of how she felt when they were together. He was an unexpected find and her feelings for him told her she wasn’t as ready to give up on love as she’d thought. Somehow she was going to have to get over the whole “love must be earned” thing she had going on so she could find someone to fall in love with.
“The design is Indian,” Violet told him. “They’re antique—if I had to guess, I’d say they’re maybe three hundred years old. Aren’t they amazing?”
“Where did you find them?”
“Oh, I have buyers all over the world sending me buttons. It’s a real thing,” she added as he stared at her. “An expat found these in a market. They were just sitting in a box, gathering dust. So she sent them to me. I’ve had them a couple of years. I’ve been waiting for the right project.” She sighed. “I’d thought this was it.”
“It still is. Nova and Joel will get married.”
“I know, it’s just I wanted to be there to see the dresses being worn.”
He walked to the sink in the corner of the studio and washed his hands, then returned to the dress. He studied the beadwork at the neckline, then the decorations. “You have any extras of these?”
“Sure. In case one falls off or something.” She pulled several headpieces out of the suitcase, then a small clear plastic box with several glittering buttons inside.
He liked the way the glass caught the light and reflected it back against the enamel. The combination of bright against dark was exactly what he’d been looking for. He hadn’t known how to make it happen in two-dimensional form until now.
“The dress,” he said.
Violet shivered. “You are not painting that beautiful wedding gown. You can’t.”
“I hadn’t started when she called to cancel, but that’s only because I couldn’t figure out what to do. You’ve given me an idea.”
“Then I take it back.”
“Wait and be amazed.”
He pulled an overhead projector on a cart out of a deep closet and wheeled it to the center of the room, facing a blank white wall. Nick used an extension cord to plug in the projector. While Violet watched, he dug a file folder out of his desk and started slapping clear plastic sheets on the top of the projector. The image of blown-up lace appeared on the wall.
“Here’s the basic pattern of the lace on her dress,” he said.
Violet walked to the wall. Her knee-high boots clicked on the concrete floors. She raised her hand to outline the lace.
“I thought it was a simple pattern that repeated, but it’s not. See how this is almost a modified fleur-de-lis but on the other side, it’s more swirly.” She smiled. “You’re the artist. What’s the technical term?”
“Swirly works.”
“So how does this relate to my buttons?”
He replaced the black-and-white sheet with one he’d painted. “The tones are off,” he said as he walked to the screen. “The teal is too dull. And the yellow blows. I thought it was the paint hue, but looking at your buttons I’m thinking that’s not it at all.”
He opened a cabinet filled with small tubes of paint. Violet followed him and moaned when she saw the messy display. “Oooh, I want that. I could never justify the cost of so many paints, but still. I have envy.”
“I’ve never heard that before.”
“Paint envy? It’s real. We don’t like to talk about it much. You know—the stigma.”
Violet was pretty enough, he thought absently. It would be easy to steer the conversation from friendly to flirty. All it would take were a few words and the right tone. Only he didn’t want to. While he wasn’t willing to put a name on what he had with Pallas, she was important to him. He would never hurt her or disrespect her.
“There’s probably a twelve-step program for your paint obsession,” he told her. “You could get help.”
“I’ll suffer in silence.”
He found the color he was looking for. A milky opal that had a touch of iridescence. After grabbing a small brush and a square of cardboard, he returned to the overhead and studied the button.
“It’s the way the light hits the enamel,” he said, more to himself than her. “The glass and the...”
He squeezed paint onto the cardboard before dipping his brush and dabbing it onto the plastic sheet. “That’s not right.”
He collected more paints and a palette, then went to work blending. Violet picked up several brushes and sheets of thick, white paper. Together they worked with the teals and purples until they found the right combination of light and dark, with the slightest hint of glimmer.
Nick put a blank sheet over the painted one and quickly outlined the lace with a permanent marker. He filled in the various colors, following the sample they’d created. When he was done, he looked at the wall.
“That’s it,” Violet breathed. “Oh wow. That’s it.” She reached for the marker and touched it to the painting, creating dark dots. “I’ll put the extra buttons in these spots. I have enough. They’ll pick up the paint.”
“Perfect.” The dress would be unique to Nova and Joel’s world, but elegant. “You should sew those on first. I don’t know if the paint will crack on the fabric. Best not to bend it too much before the wedding.”
“You have the dress?”
He nodded at a closet. “You can take it with you and bring it back when you’re done.”
“Should I sign a receipt or something?”
“Because you’re going to steal it?”
“I guess not.”
The door to the studio opened and Ronan walked in. Nick was surprised. Since the fight, they’d been careful to avoid each other. But with limited workspace, they were bound to cross paths.
Ronan took one look at him, glared, then turned on his heel and left. Violet cleared her throat.
“He doesn’t know me from a rock, so I’m guessing I’m not the one he’s mad at.”
“Ronan and I are working through some issues.”
“It’s not going very well, is it?”
“No.”
“Carol and I couldn’t be more different, but we’re still close. You and Ronan need to work out your stuff.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
“Fine. Ignore me. I don’t mind. I’ll talk to Pallas and she’ll bug you about it.”
“You know that we’re seeing each other?”
Violet grinned. “She’s my friend, Nick. In fact all her friends know. We just don’t talk about it to you.” Her humor faded. “But I will admit that if it comes to a floor fight, we’re all team Pallas.”
“So am I.”
* * *
PALLAS HAD EXCEEDED her allotted mope time and yet still found herself bummed about the canceled wedding. She wasn’t sure why she was so upset. Of course she felt bad for Nova losing her father so much sooner than expected, but it was more than that. She had a nagging sense of having lost something important.
Monday night she made her way to The Boardroom for the weekly tournament. She was hoping some fast-paced fun would improve her mood. If nothing else, she would hang out with Nick and that was always good.
She arrived and found he had already claimed a table. He was chatting with Mathias and Natalie, which gave her the chance to simply watch him.
The man made her heart beat faster, she thought with a sigh. Not just because he was pretty to look at but because of how she felt when they were together. He was an unexpected find and her feelings for him told her she wasn’t as ready to give up on love as she’d thought. Somehow she was going to have to get over the whole “love must be earned” thing she had going on so she could find someone to fall in love with.
