The room was crawling with every important business person imaginable in the artistic world. From auctioneers to the artists themselves, all were wandering around, peering at the various displays of art. Dressed in elaborate clothing, glasses of champagne in one hand, petites amuses geules in the other, most were making small talk while hoping to make hopeful business partners for future dealings. Everyone was making it an issue to be polite, some of their mannerisms forced. Being a manager to some of the artists whose works were being displayed this evening at the gallery, it was my job to be welcoming, and search for new talent. As for fake smiles and pleasant compliments, I had had my share, and had become accustomed to such masks worn by the general community present in this large room. The actual room had been greatly decorated, and had smaller adjacent rooms breaking off to the sides, all containing more works of art. The walls an egg shell white were a great contrast to the polished hard wood floor. The large Louis IV windows were what truly gave the area its charm and beauty, along with the wine red curtains, some of which had been pulled close to keep the night lights of New York city out, and the bright regulated lights as well as the room temperature regulated. The atmosphere being regulated at fourteen degrees celcius was important for it was what kept the paintings intact and fresh looking.
Holding a champagne flute between my slender fingers, my eyes were kindly smiling at the eager middle aged man in front of me. A potential client? No, but a potential buyer. With my award winning smile, and bleach white teeth, I nodded emphatically at the gentleman before me as he lapsed on about his latest buy. An original Piccaso, or so he claimed, was what he had spent the last couple of years searching. Taking a sip of my beverage, I averted my gaze off to the side where an elderly woman stood staring at a Monet inspired oil painting. Returning my firm gaze to the man, I apologized for my sudden distraction, and that I had thought to have seen someone I knew. The man smiled, and continued where he had last stopped, something about looking to invest in something different.
"I want to turn away from cubism. I'm looking for something more...more..." he stumbled along his words, searching for the right terminology.
"Down to earth?" I offered, tilting my head to the side. Nodding enthusiastically, he grinned.
"That's it! My wife Charlotte loves these nature scenes, and I was thinking of perhaps purchasing one for her birthday."
"Well Mr. Smith, I assure you that you will most likely find something to your liking in this exposition. The theme this evening is wilderness" Smiling yet again, I excused myself, and made my way over to the elderly woman standing near to the Monet styled work. The conversation took on the same colours as the first, except this time it was not a wife, but a granddaughter going off to university, first time away from home, and the grandparents wanting to offer something as a going away present. Thoughtful was the only word that came to mind at that exact moment.
My business partner smiled from across the room, giving me an encouraging thumbs up. Carol, always uplifting and encouraging was she herself, stuck between a rock and hard place. Instead of trying to settle a deal, she was more like trying to sort out a dispute between a young rich couple. I gave her a sympathetic look. 'You look great' she mouthed from her corner. Smiling, I mouth a thank you. My choice of dress had indeed been nice, but appropriate all the same for the event. The black knee length cocktail dress had screamed at me from behind a clothes rack at Macy's earlier that morning. Sleeveless and with a decent v-neck, it was enough to set any young man's blood on fire, especially with the low back. Just when I was about to pass another mouthed comment to my partner in crime, her mouth gaped open, and she made a decent head jerking motion to my right. Turning, I noticed for the first time, the man standing near a particular small painting in one of the smaller rooms. Despite his back facing me, I had no doubt as to whom this man might be. Longish raven hair that reached past his shoulders, broad shoulders, slim waist...
"Mr. Danvers, I am so glad you could make it this evening" I said, my hand shaking his. His dark fathomless eyes stared into mine, practically emotionless except for a small glint to them. Almond in shape, probably a hint of his lineage are what gave him an almost impish look, creating an exotic flare about him.
"My schedule cleared up" he nodded grimly.
"It is a real shame we were unable to have any of your works on display. They are quite remarkable"
"Thank you"
"So what do you think of these wolves?" I motioned to the one he had been peering at for some time. His gaze became intense as he stared at every brush stroke. After a few minutes of examination, he responded.
"The painting itself is well presented, but there are some essentials that are either missing, or simply not well orchestrated"
"What do you mean?"
"Ms. Simmons, have you ever seen a wolf before?" I stared up at him, his height towering over my smaller frame. I nod. "Have you ever seen one in motion, the look in its eyes, the intrigue?" Sort of like what you are Mr. Danvers, I ponder, an intrigue.
"Not exactly Mr. Danvers. I'm a city girl, and you must therefore excuse my slight ignorance" I manage to grin. He nods curtly.
"The expression is wrong"
"If you are ever interested in actually having any type of art work on display, please, I would love to be informed" Smiling yet again, I make my way into the main room again to recommence my small talk with more potential clients.
***
My hands caressed the clay in front of me, watching it as it took form. A wisp of auburn hair falling into my eyes, I blow at it in frustration. Tugging at the clay I work at it until I get the shape I so desire. I have no clue as to what may have inspired me, but I knew that after last night's stressing event, I needed to relax, and what better than to create pottery. Except, what was supposed to be a vase, had turned into something completely different. I front of my slightly trembling hands was a medium sized sculpture of a wolf cub, staring up with curious filled eyes. What was shocking was the intensity of the gaze, the accuracy, as if there truly lay some sort of life behind those immobile eyes. The phone rang, I jumped. Whipping my hands on my stained shirt I often used while painting or sculpting, I sat on one of the arm rests on my couch, and pick up the phone from its receiver. The voice was soft and soothing, with a Zen-like quality to it. Pressing on a button, I let the door downstairs in the apartment building buzz open. Hastily, I made my way over to stare into a mirror. Auburn hair tied up messily into a knot that practically sat on top of my head, bright winter green eyes, a multicolored stained button down shirt, and a pair of jean shorts... lovely. I looked like a disaster. Then came a sudden rap at the door. Turning the knob, I stared up at my visitor.
"Mr. Danvers, how ever did you find my home? You might want to be careful, or I might think you are trying to stalk me"
"A source was helpful in aiding me scout you out" he replied, eyes searching my face.
"Well, come on in. I can't have you standing in my doorway for the neighbors to see" letting him in, I closed the door behind him. Motioning to my couch, he waited for me to sit down before he took a seat before me on a salmon colored couch. "So why exactly are you here Mr. Danvers?"
"The job proposition, were you being sincere?" I stared in shock, eyes widened slightly.
"Sir, if I were someone else in my current field of work, I might feel insulted by your lack of faith in me. I would assume you to believe me worthy of trust after all the works I have created and organized that are listed in my portfolio at the main office"
"You must understand my concern Ms. Simmons. It was my sister who first directed me towards you. I have never expected anything to come out of my work. To me it is just a hobby. When she told me that I should sell, I had a difficult time believing that my artistic abilities were of such a caliber. Needless to say, when she referred me to you, I felt somewhat uneasy. I have never met you before, but only heard snippets of your grandeur. Your works are known throughout the state of New York, Maine and Vermont. Yet, you have so many clients, and I do not sell my works, preferring to keep them. It is said that you tend to be quite frivolous, jumping from one job offer to the next, depending on which one is the most intriguing"
"Let me get this straight for you. I go where I see there is potential and where I judge there is enough for me to work with. The work also must be of high quality if not there are few chances of working with me. I would also like to add that I may have many clients, but once I give my word, I always hold it. I have seen your work Mr. Danvers through my own sources, and let me assure you, you are one of a kind. Your works are truly amazing. Not many can do what you do" I stated, arms crossed over my chest, eyes boring into his. "If you are truly interested in seeing your works exposed in a gallery, then I will see to it that they will. If not, you are wasting your time as well as my own"
"My sister, she is a friend of yours, no?" he asked, peering up at me from behind long lashes. Nodding, I tilt my head to the side in thought.
"Christine Danvers?" I ask, my attention returning to his ever calm stance. Nodding, what could be deemed a grin tugged at his solemn facial expression "She is a well known business partner of mine. We have worked together in the past and have even shared a glass of wine or two"
"She assured me that you were worthy of trust. I do not seek to sell my works Ms. Simmons, I desire only to participate in an exhibition from time to time. Christine deems it fit that I throw my name into the onslaught of the everyday torrent of society" Advancing to the edge of my seat, I gently place my hands on his clasped ones.
"Mr. Danvers, if you so wish, it would be an honor for me to take care of you and your creations"
I hope you have enjoyed a little taste of what is to come. I do not own any of Kelly Armstrong's characters except for my own despite my great appreciation for her books. Please do review and let me know what you think of this story so far despite it only being chapter 1.
Adar