On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20) by Lisa Heaton Read Free Book Online Page A

kind of money for any kind of art is wasteful.” The look on his face gave her no clue as to his reaction to her words. Continuing anyway, she said, “There are starving children who could eat for years for the price of one painting. Honestly, this sickens me,” she spat, “knowing the desperation of the rest of the world in light of the money in this one room.”
    His heart sank at her words. For a moment, he tried to recall the last time anyone was so brutally honest with him. Maybe Mark on occasion, but never to this level. Scanning the room, the shallowness of it all was just as evident to him, but that was nothing new. The depth of insincerity among those whom he most often associated with had been a source of disdain for quite some time. Finally, his lips formed into a slow smile as he assured her, “That’s a great start.” Feeling, though, as if he’d been hit below the belt, he asked, “Do you think I attempt to be forward-thinking?”
    Blushing, she said, “No, not you.” While she could see that her words settled heavily upon him, they had not been intended as an indictment against him. “I think you live for the deal. I think your company is your mistress and your only passion. I have heard it in several of your conversations so far tonight.” Mocking him, she said in a deeper tone, “We still on, Barry? Got to strike while the iron is hot.” Certain she’d read him accurately, she added, “You couldn't care less about art or even what anyone thinks you think about art.”
    John threw his head back and chuckled. He found Chelsea to be the best thing that had happened to him in a very long time. How refreshing to hear such honesty. If there was ever a season in his life when he needed more than yes men, it was now.
    It was the first time she heard him really laugh, and when he did, several people turned around and stared at them. It was then she felt a little jealous of how one woman was gazing directly at him. Much more forward than what was typical for her, Chelsea reached for John’s arm and looped hers through his. Based on the way he smiled down at her when she did so, it was something he seemed entirely open to.
    Delighted by her company, though suddenly not so much with the setting, he asked, “Have you eaten dinner?” It was just after eight, andhe’d failed to stop long enough to eat before having to meet her at seven. After all, he had made his appearance and made the rounds. There was no reason to prolong their time there.
    “I had a late lunch, so I skipped dinner.”
    “Want to get out of here?”
    When he offered for her to choose the restaurant, John never expected they would end up in a burger joint. Even more than the burger, she wanted a milkshake. And in keeping his promise to her, he insisted she get the milkshake first, so technically she would have dessert first. Watching her eat, like a ranch hand without question, he was satisfied he could not have picked a better place himself. There she was in her lovely cocktail dress, shoes on the floor, and her bare feet curled beneath her in the booth. She made him smile, inside and out.
    “This burger is the best.” Wiping her mouth, she realized he was watching her rather intently. “What?” Wiping her mouth again, she was sure she must have food all over her face.
    “What happened last summer?”
    His look was one she couldn’t read exactly. Somehow, she felt as if he was trying to look within her again. “What do you mean?”
    “You said up until then you planned on a corporate job. What happened to change that?” With his question, he detected a notable change in her expression, maybe even a trace of sadness. There was a softening that he could not quite identify.
    Pushing her plate away, sliding her shake near, she sipped on the straw for a second. When she finished the last of her shake, she told him, “I went on a mission trip, and it totally changed everything.”
    “Where did you go?”
    “Haiti.”
    “Was