The Lonely Artist by Autumn Skye

Author:Autumn Skye [Skye, Autumn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-27T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Corrine

I was thrilled that Katrina had agreed to paint my portrait. A portrait, a good one, wasn’t something that could be completed in one sitting. It would require several sessions, which meant at least for the time being I had the perfect excuse to see her. When I thought it over, I wasn’t sure why I believed I needed an excuse. Katrina hadn’t given me the slightest indication that she didn’t want to be with me every bit as much as I wanted to be with her, and she obviously wasn’t the type to play head games, but I nevertheless appreciated having a reason to summon her to my home outside of regular business hours. I supposed some of it had to do with me being plain old lonely. The house was too big for only me and having spent so much time in Europe the past couple of years, I’d drifted away from most of my acquaintances. I enjoyed looking forward to Katrina’s company.

That Saturday afternoon, I dismissed the staff early and set about making lunch for two, baked fish with brown rice and a blend of stir fried vegetables, the only meal I made well. I’d just set the table on the patio when the doorbell rang.

“Katrina, right on time. I have lunch ready and I had the sitting room set up as a studio with all the supplies you said you’d need to do the portrait. Follow me. You can leave your bag on the sofa. No one will bother it. We have the house to ourselves. I sent the servants home early.”

I showed her out to the patio and followed right behind her carrying our two plates. We sat at table overlooking the pool. The surrounding tropical garden included planted palm trees and pink azaleas. It was a manmade paradise, enclosed behind a brick wall, but I rarely spent time in it. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a dip in the pool, probably it had been before my father had died. He’d loved it sitting in the garden and it always felt wrong to be out there too long without him. It was just another reason to sell the place. I couldn’t even allow myself to enjoy the amenities of my own house, but I couldn’t bring myself to part with my childhood home, either. I’d had substantial offers from buyers. I’d considered them all, yet I’d never been able to let the place go.

It was much less lonely with Katrina here, though. She’d certainly brightened up the place with her presence during our evening together. I was at least momentarily content to simply appreciate her company for a while.

“This is delicious,” she said, after diving into the fish.

“It’s my specialty dish, my only dish, as a matter of fact. I never bothered to become a serious cook.”

“If it makes you feel better, I eat a lot of takeout. Other than that, I can make a grilled cheese sandwich and open a can of tomato soup.

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