The Lottery Winner by Emilie Rose Read Free Book Online Page B

lack of response kinked nerves in her belly. Sharing her work—her serious work, not the stuff she doodled with her students—was hard. Really hard. The sensation of nakedness returned full force. She scanned her collection.
    â€œI, um...like to experiment with different mediums. Acrylics, charcoals, watercolors, pastels...”
    â€œYou did all these?” he asked without lifting his gaze from her favorite representation of the deer family.
    She took a deep breath. “Yes.”
    His gaze drilled hers. “Why don’t you sell them?”
    â€œWho would want them?”
    â€œJessie, your execution is excellent, and these have the local flavor that tourists love to take home to remind them of their trip. Would you be willing to sell them?”
    She’d never sold a painting and couldn’t believe anyone would want to pay good money for one. “I guess...I might.”
    â€œThe same paintings have hung in Miri’s restaurant for as long as I can remember. They’re dated and faded. We could swap some of her old art with yours and market these to tourists. I’m sure you’ve seen similar setups in other restaurants with discreet price tags nearby.”
    She struggled for words and found none. As a child she’d dreamed of becoming an artist, but once she’d reached college her father had said, “Choose a steady, reliable career that pays the bills and comes with benefits. Artists starve.” She’d compromised and decided to teach art. Teaching gave her an opportunity to instill her passion for creativity in others. Between the hours she taught and those spent preparing for each class, she’d had little time to pursue many personal projects until she’d been banished to the Keys. Now all she had was time.
    The interest in her work was shocking, but doubly so from Logan Nash. “Why are you being nice when you’ve been nothing but confrontational up until now?”
    â€œBecause fresh art might bring more business to the Widow.”
    â€œMiri already has more traffic than three waitresses can handle.”
    â€œThe staff shortage is a temporary situation.”
    Fear battled eagerness. “I wouldn’t know how to price them.”
    â€œI do.”
    His offer sounded too good to be true. “What’s your take?”
    â€œMy take? You mean like a commission? Nothing. And I doubt Miri will want one, either. But none of these are signed. Sign this one.” He pointed to her favorite Key deer picture. “Bring it to work tonight.”
    Her heart beat double time. She bit her lip, dug her toes into the plush rug and searched his face. He looked sincere, and she really wanted to believe his compliments. She was tempted—so very tempted—to test her fledgling artist’s wings.
    What would her father and Brandon say? She ached to call and ask their advice. But she couldn’t. Telling them about this opportunity meant telling them about her job—something they definitely wouldn’t approve of.
    â€œJessie, at least show this one to Miri. If she doesn’t agree that your work could be an asset to the Widow, then you’ve lost nothing.”
    Except her pride. Logan had gotten her hopes up. How would she feel if no one wanted it? She had to take the chance or forever regret it. “Okay.”
    He nodded. “See you in a few hours.”
    She walked him out then caught herself checking out his broad shoulders and strong back as he descended the stairs. She shut the door a little harder than necessary and locked it, then pressed a hand over her pounding heart. She didn’t release her pent-up breath until he’d boarded his boat and driven away.
    Logan liked her work. Someone outside her family actually liked her work. What’s more, he thought that others might, too. Joy and pride bubbled inside her. She danced in place, then sobered.
    Putting herself out there meant possible criticism.