The Artist's Rival: An Enemies to Lovers LesbianSapphic Romance (Her Rival Series Book 2) by Emily Hayes

Author:Emily Hayes [Hayes, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-12T00:00:00+00:00

8

ELLIE

Ellie stares at the waterfall, mad to have decided to continue it either way. The bubbling water springs down, cascading into the lake below. The hills bend over the phenomenon in a manner she finds mocking. As if the hills were bent over her, looking straight into the pits of her artistic soul, looking for substance. She feels empty, bendable like a straw of grass exposed to barely any wind. How come it takes so little for her delicate touch to turn into something violent?

She wipes her hands clean and decides to order dinner in. Afternoon has turned to evening, and she can see the windows of nearby apartments light up. She has always liked to spy on people through their windows, observing their kitchens or living rooms—the scenes of their rituals. Little figures dancing around, preparing dinner or taking their shoes off, coming home from work. As a student, she painted a project meant to imagine her as a little figure stared at from someone else’s perspective. Back then she lived in a little, square studio apartment, and the series of four paintings included the four corners of her room; Ellie cooking soup on her little portable gas stove, Ellie reading a book on her miniature bed, Ellie putting on her socks next to the pile of clothing substituting a wardrobe, and Ellie at her canvas, despairing over some project.

She smiles, thinking it over, a little upset that she has no idea where the paintings went. The delivery man rings the doorbell with urgency, stirring her out of the river of thoughts.

“Thank you, have a good evening,” she says at the door, impatient to eat.

The clouds of steam from the noodles explode in her face, the carton box almost burning her hands. She sits down on the floor, far away from any painting, afraid to grease or stain something of value. The thick strings of noodles slide around her mouth, delicious.

Suddenly, her phone rings. She curses herself for the lack of napkins, having already used the ones provided, and grabs the phone awkwardly, knowing that an unknown number could mean something particularly important.

“Yes?” she utters, right after swallowing.

“Is this Ellie Matthews?” a low-pitched, male voice inquires.

“Yes, speaking.”

“This is George Kirsch calling, from the Kirsch Gallery of Art, I had the honor to see your recent exhibition, and decided to reach out with an, I hope, interesting offer.”

Ellie sits completely still. She knows the Kirsch Gallery, now managed and curated by Samuel Kirsch’s son, George.

“Of course, I’m listening,” she assures, intrigued.

“I want to suggest to you a collaborative project that my gallery would host with pleasure,” he continues, “I propose a meeting tomorrow, if your availability would allow?”

Having settled the hour, they hang up. Ellie looks at the cooled down noodles with disbelief, giddy from excitement. She hopes that a new project will give her some new sense of direction, besides the obvious growth of her recognition. She paces around the studio, impatient for the following days, the mist of late evening darkness seeps into the room, prompting her to leave for home.

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