excitement makes me think he’s an artist too.
“I have no idea.” He looks around but the smile doesn’t fade. “I’ve never been to a place like this.”
“Oh, an art virgin too?” I extend my hand. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one. I’m Amy.”
“Nice to meet you, Amy.” His hands are soft but the splotches of paint on his nails confirm my artist theory. “I’m Andre.”
“Well, Andre, what do you think of the stuff you’ve seen so far?” I step toward a photo of two boys holding hands in the middle of a wrecking yard.
“It’s amazing.” He says the words with reverence as he steps up to me. “I can’t believe people like this are willing to pay so much money for these kind of pictures.”
I was thinking the same thing. The price tag is $800 but the emotion it conjures makes me think it’s worth at least twice that much. “I’d buy it in a heartbeat if I could.”
“Really?” He looks at me again with new eyes. “Why? What do you see when you look at it?”
Mason joins us but doesn’t interrupt as I look at the photo from different angles. “It makes me think that even in the most desolate environments, if you can accept who you are and are willing to open yourself up to happiness, that it’s possible. You can let everything else go and just be happy with what you have.”
Andre nods and looks at a man talking to Ms. Bach. The man looks like he’s his older brother but the doe eyed look Andre gives him makes me think there’s more than brotherly affection there. When the man catches his eye and waves him over, Andre’s face lights up.
“I’ve got to go but it was nice to meet you, Amy.”
“You too, Andre.” I watch the boy walk up to the man and get introduced to the gallery owner. The awe on his face makes me smile.
“That’s sweet.”
“What is?” Mason follows my gaze to the group ahead of us.
“That kid. He’s in love with that guy and it looks like he’s meeting his hero right now.”
“He told you that?” Mason looks between Andre and me with a confused expression on his face. “In the two minutes I was gone?”
“No, he didn’t really say anything. I can just tell.” I take Mason’s hand and we walk toward one of the photos by his baker. “You can see it in the way he looks at him.”
“So, you’re saying you can gauge a person’s interest by the look in their eyes?” He has a smirk on his face that doesn’t hide his disbelief.
“Yup. For example, look at that couple over there.” I point to a couple in line at the bar. “Look at how he watches her mouth when she talks and the way she keeps a hand on his arm at all times. They’re obviously so in love with each other they can’t keep their hands off.”
“Okay, so what do you think about this couple?” Mason holds out his glass to my left so I turn in that direction and come face-to-face with Nate. Again.
I smile at Mason while I pinch his forearm. Hard.
Nate is just inches from us but now he has a tall woman on his arm that looks like she’s straight off the runway. In heels, she’s just about Nate’s height and has beautiful brown hair that shines like she just had a keratin treatment.
Nate still looks pissed but he has a smile plastered to his face now. “Mason, Amy, I’d like you to meet Audrina. She’s visiting from the U.K.”
I hold out my hand to her. “Hi, Audrina. It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s lovely to meet you as well.” Her accent is smooth as butter as she shakes my hand then looks to Mason. “Mason, did he say?”
“Yes,” Mason takes her hand and brings it to his lips, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Are you fans of this type of art?” She looks around the room as if there are cockroaches on the walls.
Suddenly, I don’t like her or her snooty accent. “I do, in fact.” I wrap my hand around Mason’s arm and tug him back a few inches. “I find the rawness moving and I don’t usually react to art in that way. I’m
Naomi Mitchison Marina Warner