The Inspiration Read Free

gallery business.” I smile, remembering those early days getting to know the Kesters. “It’s been very exciting to work in the art world. It’s one of my great passions. But it can be discouraging too, as you know, especially with the Mrs. Stanhopes of the world. It’s eye-opening to learn it’s merely a business to so many.”
    “Unfortunately, a majority of the people,” he agrees.
    “I’ve loved the experience of getting to know the artists. And seeing how people create sparked that feeling in me to create something too. I’m not an artist, but I do have a gift with words, so now I spend a lot of my free time writing. I recently was accepted into a writing group, so it’s helping me develop my craft and share my work with my peers. It’s nerve-racking, but fulfilling at the same time.”
    “That’s cool. It’s so easy to get off-track when real life gets in the way, but always remember, there’s nothing more important than following your passion.”
    As he smiles, he skims his fingertips back and forth across the tabletop and I watch, mesmerized. What if it were my bare skin instead?
    His face is so alive, so handsome, and the way he’s looking at me makes me feel as if I’m the most important person in the world. As a result, I’ve lost my will to fight my attraction to him.
    There are certain moments of clarity where you can feel your world shift, and that’s how I feel in this moment. This complicated man has pushed me off a cliff. The free-fall is terrifying yet exhilarating because I feel a crack opening my heavy heart. I’ve never felt so wide-awake. It’s dangerous and joyful and wicked and deep—the realization that I’m under the spell of Maxfield Caswell—and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

Chapter Two / Paint by Numbers
    Art is the only way to run away without leaving home.
    ~Twyla Tharp
    “A re you going to get in trouble?” Max asks with a mischievous grin.
    The waiter delivers the check, and Max picks it up immediately so there’s no question who’s paying. The interruption has succeeded in snapping us back to reality before I have a chance to share any more of my story.
    “Trouble, why?” Has he been reading my mind? The idea that he knows my illicit thoughts horrifies me, but then I realize he doesn’t and instead studies his watch with a frown.
    “We’ve been here over two hours.”
    “Good God!” I exclaim, sliding out of the booth. “Adam’s going to kill me. I need to get back.”
    “Slow down, Cinderella,” he says with a laugh. “I won’t let our carriage turn into a pumpkin or anything. We’ll get a cab and I’ll call Adam and make up an excuse.”
    The restaurant staff showers us with a medley of warm good-byes as we make our way out the door.
    It takes a few moments for our eyes to adjust to the bright light after the dim restaurant. The bustle of traffic and people rushing past only amplifies the stunned feeling. I notice a group of exceptionally thin and good-looking people talking to our left. I assume it’s a bunch of models from the agency just down the street, although I can’t be sure.
    As we step toward the curb, one of the women turns toward us. Max looks at her, and they both immediately gasp and share wide smiles.
    The tall beauty runs over. “Max!” she squeals as she wraps her arms around his neck.
    He hugs her, swinging her off her feet. “Katya! It’s been forever. Where’ve you been, beautiful?”
    She stays in his arms while they talk and she runs her long fingers through his hair. Meanwhile, his fingers are clasped together behind her back, holding her in place. It’s intimate and makes me uneasy. I feel like leftovers from an all-you-can-eat buffet.
    During the time I’d spent with Max, he’d aimed a glowing spotlight on me. Now it’s shifted to
Katya
and I’m left standing in the dark. It’s abrupt and startling, as if I’m not even here, and I feel myself slowly seeping into the cement of the gray,