Playing the Devil by R.J. Lee

Author:R.J. Lee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2019-12-08T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

Hollis Hornesby’s art gallery—preciously named Hollow Horne—occupied one of the many brick and lacework buildings scattered around downtown Rosalie, this one on Locust Street. Unlike the other brick and black lacework structures, however, Hollow Horne’s balcony and delicate columns had been painted white for as long as anyone could remember, and that gave them a distinctive flair. Several Rosalieans had written letters to the Citizen expressing their delight that the long-vacant store had been repurposed for such an upscale, cultural mission. It remained to be seen, however, how those same Rosalieans actually embraced the art pieces inside with their pocketbooks. It was too early to tell if they would end up placing Hollis’s one-note French Quarter studies on the walls of their homes and businesses.

“Welcome to Hollow Horne,” Hollis said in that dramatic fashion of his as Wendy came through the glass-paneled front door. He then executed a fanciful twirl with a wide gesture and wineglass in hand. “These are my earnest offerings to the world, reflecting images of my vivid life down in the French Quarter for all those many years. You’re more than welcome to browse to your little heart’s content. My Mardi Gras section is to the right, and my French Quarter Street section is to your left. Is this your first visit to my little shop?”

“It is,” Wendy told him, noting that several lighted votive candles on the checkout counter were filling the room with a strong vanilla fragrance. “Please don’t hold that against me, either. I’ve been so busy with my work that I just haven’t been able to work it into my schedule.”

“I wouldn’t dream of holding such a grudge. It’s beyond juvenile. Being devoted to work is something I completely understand. If I could just get Mother to slow down a bit out at the RCC, though. She’s so driven to make everything perfect. Nothing ever will be in this world, you know, but Mother keeps holding out hope that it will happen for her if she just tries hard enough.”

“I can be somewhat of a perfectionist, myself,” Wendy said.

Hollis starting talking out of the side of his mouth, and his eyes shifted to one side. “Mother’s been looking for a real project she could sink her teeth into ever since Father died. She liked it well enough, but being an accountant really didn’t do it for her. Now, though, she’s totally hooked on running the RCC. Pretty much nothing stands in her way. She’s her own little caftan-wearing bulldozer.”

“Do you mind if we sit?” Wendy said, bringing out her notepad and pen from her purse.

Hollis looked as if he might faint and fanned himself. “Please, please forgive me. Where are my manners? There’s a table right over there against the wall. Oh, and would you like some of this wine I’ve been drinking? It’s just one of our drier Rosalie muscadines. I’m not a big fan of the sweet ones. They cloy on my palate. Or I also have some sparkling water or cider chilling in the mini-fridge in the back room if you’d prefer that.

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