Violet (Suitors of Seattle Book 7) Read Free

like New York it would be different, but in Seattle, there was only one art gallery she could work with, and she'd just been told she'd never work with them again.
    When she walked into the main room, she could still hear the buzz of excitement over the new painting.  Whatever Mr. Smith said, she'd done a good job with this one, and she wasn't going to be ashamed.  She would enjoy her night, and she would sell paintings.  She was an artist, and she was proud of her work.
    Mary looked at Violet with worry in her eyes.  "What did he say to you?" she whispered.
    "He's angry that I painted a private moment he had with his nephew without his permission.  If the moment was so private, why was he having it in a public park?"  Violet sighed and turned as someone came up to her to get her attention again.
    All through the evening, Violet watched her "babies" leave in the hands of their new owners.  There were only a few paintings left at the end of the night, one of them being "Lost Souls."  She was surprised that one didn't sell, but pleased she wouldn't have to give it up. 
    Once everyone else was gone Mr. Allen approached her.  "Miss Sullivan, you were a success beyond our wildest imaginings.  I still cannot believe you sold so many paintings in just one evening.  I would love to see what you could do with a showing in a gallery in New York City."
    Violet shook her head sadly.  "I'm afraid Mr. Smith said he'd never work with me again.  He wasn't pleased with the painting of him with his nephew."  She still couldn't believe the man had been so angry with her.  She'd done nothing wrong.  Why couldn't he see that?
    Mr. Allen frowned.  "I'm not terribly surprised.  I'll talk to him.  I don't think he understood the sheer magnitude of money you made us this evening."
    Violet smiled.  Money wasn't terribly important to her, because her family had been wealthy for as long as she could remember.  She did like the idea of earning her own money, though.  It made her feel as if she'd accomplished something.  "I hate the idea of never again working with the only gallery in town.  Please talk to him.  If I'd know the man I painted was the owner of the gallery, I'd never have brought the painting."  She didn't add that she never would have painted it, because she knew that nothing could have kept her from painting Mr. Smith and his nephew.  Once she'd seen them, she had to paint them.  It was as simple as that.
     
    *****
     
    Violet was still practically floating as she walked down to breakfast the following morning.  She couldn't believe what a wonderfully successful evening she'd had. 
    "Good morning, Mama."  She looked around.  "Where are the others?  Did Iris already go back to school?"
    "Iris was up before I was this morning, and yes, she's back at school.  She said something about having to spend as much time as she could this weekend studying for a big examination."  Mary watched her daughter closely as she fixed her plate from the sideboard and sank into the chair opposite her.  "I'm glad we have some time alone."
    Violet always hated hearing her mother say those words.  They either meant she'd done something to displease her mother or Mary wanted her to go shopping with her.  She hated shopping unless it was for new art supplies.  Her mother always wanted to dress shop, though.  She kept silent and started on her eggs, hoping her mother wouldn't elaborate on what she needed her for.
    "You're not going to get me to keep quiet by not saying anything, Violet."  Mary glared at her daughter.  "Painting that man and his nephew was an invasion of privacy."
    Violet looked at her mother with surprise.  "But they were in public.  How did they expect things to be private?  That makes no sense to me."
    "So if you were in public, say at the funeral of someone you love, would it be all right for someone to sketch you while you were mourning?  Or to take a photograph of you?"
    Violet thought about that