Leighton took one last bite of her butternut squash soup and glanced around the restaurant. The owners had decorated the windowsills with fall leaves and dotted the shelves with miniature pumpkins. It gave the place a cozy, rustic feel that, combined with the delicious meal she’d enjoyed and the essence of autumn itself, made her sigh with contentment.
Stefan plucked a blueberry from her half-empty fruit cup and tossed it into his mouth.
“Eat all you want. I’m finished.” She pushed the bowl closer to him. They’d gone to lunch at her favorite spot near the atelier. With some effort, she’d convinced him she had no desire to eat at the bakery, and he’d survive giving his crush on the redheaded baker a day off.
“My club sandwich was huge. I’m stuffed, but your blueberry called my name like a post-meal mint.” He leaned back against the booth.
Without a word, a busser cleared their dirty dishes. Stefan’s class didn’t start for another fifteen minutes, so they sipped their coffees in a moment of comfortable silence.
“She’s talented.”
He threw it out there with no preamble, but Leighton needed none. She’d already been thinking about Casey. “Yes, she’s a very gifted student.” Her emphasis would’ve deterred most people, but not him.
He seemed to consider his next words. “That’s not where I was going. She’s extremely talented. If you want the truth, the last time I met a student who had natural skills like hers was the first day of our figure drawing class together in Florence.” His knowing look punctuated his statement.
“She’s good.” Leighton brushed off the last part by tossing her napkin onto the table. “Her portfolio showed that, but the way she approaches her craft, and the decisions she makes—you can’t teach that. Include the depth to which she listens, asks questions, and comprehends, and she could be something special.”
Casey was looking more like a prodigy each day, like the artist Leighton had hoped she’d be. While Casey’s success would reflect well on the atelier in the coming years, that didn’t concern Leighton as much as it had only weeks before.
Lately, thoughts of Casey left her with a pleasant warmth, and only a small percentage of those thoughts had to do with Casey’s talent. Leighton had caught her sweet scent when she’d shown her the palette knife trick, and the memory flooded back.
She’d believed she could snuff out any sparks of interest after the divorce, but the heat that burned within her when Casey was near suggested embers still smoldered, perhaps covered in ash, but not yet extinguished. All it’d take was one healthy dose of oxygen to start them aglow, and perhaps they’d alight when the time was right. However, for that to occur, Casey couldn’t be her student, and Leighton would need to change her stance on dating, which wasn’t happening. She never wanted to experience physical or emotional pain of that magnitude again. She’d be fine, just her and Kalyssa. This attraction to Casey would pass.
“I framed the painting, and I think you’ll like it.” Stefan took a drink.
Leighton found the abrupt change of subject startling, while at the same time, the news exciting. “You did?” She couldn’t wait to see it. “Where is it? You didn’t leave it on the workbench, did you?” Leighton failed to conceal the worry in her tone. What if it’d been damaged? The security cameras would show her. She grabbed her phone and tapped the app.
Stefan covered her hand with his, stopping her. “No, I hung it on the south wall to keep it safe.”
She exhaled slowly, relieved. “You’ve always been excellent at framing. Thank you for doing that for me. I’ll clean your brushes some night to repay you.” She motioned with her chin. “Now finish your coffee so I can see how it looks.”
A short time later, they arrived at the atelier and Leighton insisted they take the stairs, despite Stefan’s grumbling. She liked eating out, but not necessarily the calories that came with it. Plus, the stairs kept her calves firm, and she’d caught Casey appreciating them. Just because she didn’t want any kind of involvement didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy being noticed.
She used her card to badge them into the studio. While the elevator announced newcomers with a ding, the stairwell door did not. She put a hand across Stefan’s chest to stop him. With a finger to her lips, she pulled him back into the small alcove, then peered around the corner. A few students gathered in front of the newly framed painting hanging between two of the southern windows.
“I’d hate to own something that expensive.” Jenna stared at it, her hand on her hip. “I’d spend all my time worrying someone would steal it.”
Devin stood beside her, assessing it. “Maybe that’s why Leighton installed the cameras.”
“I’d get some, too.” Phoenix moved closer. “Stefan wouldn’t confirm if she’d bought it at auction. He was being super secretive.”
Leighton glanced at Stefan. He held up his hands in a don’t-ask-me pose.
Phoenix scratched his chin. “What if she got it off the black market? I’d want a high-tech security system with cameras if I was dealing with unscrupulous characters.”
Despite their absurdity, Leighton admired the piece. With the blackout drapes closed, the small picture light above illuminated the canvas, and the floater frame Stefan had chosen accentuated it without detracting from it. Leighton approved. It looked perfect.
“Where are you getting these crazy ideas?” Casey glanced over from where she worked at her station. “That sounds nothing like Leighton. Even if she did buy stolen art, why would she hang it where everyone can see it? It’s ridiculous.”
Leighton melted a little witnessing Casey stand up for her.
“I don’t understand why someone would pay monstrous amounts of money for something like that.” Mikala turned back to her easel. “It doesn’t appeal to me.”
Leighton gave a little scoff, making Stefan elbow her.
Jenna tilted her head. “Who do you think painted it? The dots and funny little animal things make me think it’s a Miró, but I’ve never seen swirls and splatters like this in his works. They’re almost reminiscent of Kandinsky.”
Are they serious? Leighton looked at Stefan, and he raised one finger in a clear gesture for her to wait.
“I don’t see a signature on it anywhere.” Devin’s nose almost touched the canvas.
Jaiden waggled his finger. “I think it’s a Pollock based on these drips and splashes.”
Phoenix put his hands on his hips. “Nah, but it’s weird enough to be a Picasso.”
“No way.” Jenna’s voice rose. “Not a chance. Have you ever seen a Picasso in person? Picasso was tighter than this, even when painting abstract, and this doesn’t have the geometrical elements that he employed.”
Clearly, Jenna had strong feelings about Picasso.
“Not all of his do.” Phoenix jutted out his chin. “Google it.”
Leighton held back a laugh.
“Hey, folks, don’t you have something better to do?” Erica didn’t look up, instead erasing something on her drawing.
Leighton appreciated her attempt to refocus them, especially since she wasn’t getting paid as a TA for this hour.
“These sort of look like faces.” Jenna pointed to a corner. “It could be a Picabia.”
“It’s not a Picabia.” Erica and Mark spoke in unison.
Devin swung the bottom of the canvas away from the wall. “I wonder if Stefan installed a dust cover on the back.”
“Careful, bruh. Cameras.” Jaiden’s sing-song warning suggested it was a bad idea.
“I’m just taking a peek. If I can spot a signature, we can find out how much it sold for at auction.” Devin lifted the painting off its mount.
Jaiden stepped forward to help him.
Leighton had seen enough. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She strode out of the alcove and over to where they stood.
Stefan hung back and leaned against a column.
With a nod from Devin, Jaiden helped rehang the painting.
“Sorry, Leighton.” Devin seemed to shrink two inches in height.
“We were just curious.” Phoenix straightened the frame and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“What’re you so curious about that you couldn’t simply wait to ask me?” She directed her question to Phoenix.
“Well, we all were—”
“Not all of us.” From her station, Mikala interrupted him.
As Leighton surveyed the room, she lingered on Casey a moment longer than necessary, but she couldn’t help herself.
Phoenix swallowed. “Okay, some of us were wondering how much it cost. We thought if we spotted a signature, we could figure it out. After all, we don’t get the opportunity to see art like this often.”
His feeble attempt to justify their actions made her want to roll her eyes. She frowned instead until a noise from Stefan made her turn. She planted her fist on her hip. “Is something funny?”
“Oh, yes.” He gasped for air. “This has snowballed beyond my imagination.”
“Care to share?” Leighton could hardly wait to hear what he had to say. Knowing Stefan as she did, it was bound to be good.
He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes with a paper towel he snagged from Erica’s roll as he passed by. “Phoenix became interested in your new acquisition while I was framing it. He made some assumptions and theorized a bit.” He stopped beside her. “I didn’t correct him because it’s not my story to tell.”
She turned to Phoenix. “Tell me, please.”
With slumped shoulders and a meek expression, he shrugged. “We knew it was a famous painting, but we wanted to confirm our guesses on the artist.” He shifted from foot to foot, his flip-flops clacking.
“Is that so?” She stared at him. “And what conclusion did you arrive at?” Is this nonsense what they did when she wasn’t around?
“Um, we weren’t sure. We guessed Pollock or Miró, among others.” His volume tapered as he deflated.
“How did you think I came into possession of a famous piece of art?” Leighton looked at them.
Devin took the bait. “We assumed an auction house. I was only joking about you buying it on the black market.”
His earnest demeanor was too much.
“The black market!” Stefan bent over and grabbed Leighton’s arm for support.
She couldn’t help but let her facade slip, and a laugh escaped her. She sneaked a peek at Casey, who returned her smile. Leighton returned her attention to the group before her. “How much money do you think I earn with this school? The cost of tuition is transparent. It’s fair and not inflated in the least.”
Phoenix barely spoke above a whisper. “We thought you…um, well…made a lot of money in your divorce.”
She looked at Stefan, and his eyes sparked with glee.
“So, who is the artist? Is he at least kind of famous?” Jenna hadn’t joined in the laughter. Nor had Jaiden, Devin, or Phoenix.
Leighton tilted her head. “Jenna, I’d expect you’d be open-minded to the possibility it was a female, yet you only listed male artists.”
They all exchanged glances.
Leighton exhaled, only half feigning her dismay at their manner of conducting themselves in her absence. “My four-year-old daughter Kalyssa painted this. She titled it, Ants Eating a Picnic.”
Her revelation sank in, and their eyes flicked between her and the canvas. Everyone’s except Casey’s.
Casey’s attention remained on her.
Leighton’s heart did a little jump. “Its value is inestimable to me, so leave it on the wall, please.”
“Remind me not to entrust you with any secrets, buddy!” Stefan gave Phoenix a playful bump. “You fold like a bad poker hand.”
Leighton stole a glance at Casey as she walked to her office. Casey’s surprise had transformed into a grin. She shut her office door, leaned against it, and closed her eyes.
Now that Casey knew she had a child, would she view Leighton differently? It could go two ways. Casey might get over her little infatuation with her, if one existed to begin with. Or being mothers could give them more common ground on which to connect.
Leighton dreaded the consequences of either option.