It Happened One Christmas: A Special Edition Christmas Collection (Holiday Collection Book 2) by Daphne Lynn Stewart

Author:Daphne Lynn Stewart [Stewart, Daphne Lynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

The weekend passed without my receiving an irate call from the Snowden Mansion concerning an errant or itinerant cat. So either Pickford had let me off the hook or Marjorie Snowden was unimpressed with my antics. Either way I was relieved. However, that didn’t mean that she liked either Lorelei or me. When I saw Harry at the Annex Monday morning, however, he never mentioned the incident so perhaps I was in the clear.

He had come to pick me up to take me to lunch. He had booked a table at Il Fiasco in Dundas, a trendy sort of place with an intimate atmosphere and fine food, but affordable. We were just getting ready to leave when the forlorn form of Lara Lee came straggling into the Annex. I instinctively felt Harry flinch as she walked in the door, the smell that wafted in with her was offensive and he made an effort to hold his breath. So she hadn’t showered in a few days.

Samantha had told me that nothing of hers had sold recently so she was still penniless. I was almost tempted to purchase a piece of her art to assuage my guilt. But when I saw how expensive her art was I knew I couldn’t afford it. I guess like the rest of us she just didn’t sell enough pieces.

Harry pinched his nose as we stepped toward the door. Suddenly Lara Lee swung around, and said, “Excuse me. You’re Harry Snowden, aren’t you? Curator from the AGH?”

Harry gulped uncomfortably before turning. “Hello, yes I am.”

“I’m one of your artists. I show here at the Annex—occasionally.”

He nodded without extending his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

I noticed he didn’t ask her name and oddly she had not offered it right away. I could see she was about to when she realized that Harry was clueless to her identity. But he quickly brushed her off, and pretended not to notice when she shot out a hand. “I’m sorry, but I’m late for an engagement. Perhaps we could discuss your work another day?”

“Yes. Of course,” she said dejectedly, arm swinging to her side. And then she answered more severely. “A busy man like you has no time for someone like me.”

I was a little surprised at her bluntness, but she was honest. I had to say that for her.

She pivoted to me, scrunched up her eyes. “Don’t I know you? I swear I’ve seen your face before.”

I hoped to high heaven that she didn’t recognize me from last night, that I was the one to drop those few measly coins into her hand.

“I’m Lorelei,” I said.

She nodded. “That’s right. The textile artist. I’ve heard all about you.”

Harry was a little startled at her outspokenness. I was stunned that she knew who I was. Talk was fast and cheap on the artist grapevine but I never thought I would be a subject to go viral.

Harry nodded that we were leaving, and I smiled, trying to make things right between us fellow artists.

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