Wild Irish Soul (19 page)

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Aislinn ran her
sweaty palms over her purse, nervously chewing at her lip. Her entire body hurt and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed with a pint of ice cream and a fluffy romance novel.

Romance, she snorted to herself. Right. Like that would help her frame of mind.

"Everything will be just fine," Cait murmured from behind her and Keelin whipped her head around.

"What? Is she thinking about Baird again?" Keelin asked.

"I'm right here," Aislinn said, raising her hand.

They were in the car on the way to the show, sandwiched together in the rows of Flynn's sleek SUV.

"You look fantastic. Have we mentioned how great you look? All because of us, of course. I think that we should be stylists, don't you, Cait?" Keelin asked sweetly and Cait rolled her eyes at Keelin. Aislinn knew that she was trying to distract her and was grateful for it.

"The red was a good choice," Cait agreed.

At the last moment, Aislinn had slipped from the purple beaded column dress to the red dress that made her look like she was on fire. To her, red signaled power. She didn't want to let Baird take her power from her.

"That necklace is fabulous," Keelin said, running her hands over the linked circles that had taken Aislinn more hours then she wanted to think about to create. It was a piece of art in itself and the dress showcased it perfectly.

"It's a one and only. I don't know if I have the patience to make another."

"If you do, let me know. I know about a million people back in Boston who would fall all over themselves for it," Keelin said.

Aislinn smiled at her and then gasped as Flynn turned the corner to the gallery. Keelin squealed and gripped her arm tightly. Aislinn grabbed her hand and held it, clenching tightly, forcing herself to breathe shallowly through her mouth as she gaped at the long line of people that stood waiting to walk the red carpet into the gallery.

"Is this for me?" Aislinn whispered.

"Aye, it says Red on Green Gallery outside," Shane said.

"Shane, stop it. She knows it is for her. She's having herself a moment," Cait said, narrowing her eyes at her fiancé.

Shane motioned zipping his mouth shut as Flynn slowed to a crawl behind a long line of cars.

"Do you want to walk the red carpet or go around back?"

Aislinn thought about it. What she really wanted to do was sneak in the back door. Which meant she needed to walk the red carpet. As an artist, she'd learned that when something made her uncomfortable, that meant that she needed to push through it. Taking the comfortable route never led to breakthroughs or personal growth. She took a deep breath.

"Red carpet," Aislinn said. 

"I'll get out and run ahead, talk to security," Shane offered and slipped from the SUV. Aislinn watched him approach two men in suits and then gesture to the car. They nodded and waved towards the door. Aislinn saw Martin step from the front doors of gallery and she smiled at his gray paisley suit. The man had a style all his own, she thought.

Martin waved their car forward and panic gripped Aislinn.

"What if I trip?"

"Then you get up, silly," Cait said easily and Aislinn stopped herself.

So what if she tripped? That was what life was all about. The moods of her paintings reflected that. The ocean whispered her secrets to anyone that wanted to listen. Pain, joy, love, anger, and sadness….all were a part of the human experience. The point wasn't to avoid the emotions. It was to embrace them and live life through them, as majestically and flamboyantly as the dramatic waters of the sea did.

A chill swept over Aislinn and for a moment, she felt like something soft brushed against her cheek. Instantly, a calm settled through her and she straightened her shoulders, shifting herself to turn so that she could easily step from the car.

"Ready?"

"I'm ready," Aislinn said and waited until the door opened before stepping into a blinding flash of light from the crowd of cameras that lined the red carpet. She'd never experienced anything like it before. Martin was immediately by her side, hooking his arm through hers, and she was grateful for his support. Cait snagged her purse from her and together, she and Martin posed for reporters and answered questions.

"You look magnificent, my dear. Like a flame that is devouring itself," Martin whispered to her and she turned to smile at him, grateful for his support.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't get here earlier," she whispered.

"No need, your show is flawless. One of the easiest that I've ever had to set up," Martin assured her and they swept through the slick doors of the gallery and Aislinn gasped.

"Oh…oh I'm going to cry," Aislinn whispered and Martin immediately pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.

"It was Morgan's idea."

"It was spot on. I need to give her a raise," Aislinn said. She had wondered where Morgan had disappeared to earlier today.

What looked like thousands of candles ran the length of the room, clustered on driftwood-style pillars and small tables. Clear glass votive holders lined pathways through the gallery while larger pillar-style candles were clustered in odd groupings on the tables. It was the only light in the gallery aside from the soft lights that highlighted the paintings and the effect turned the gallery into a mystical, enchanting underwater cave. Her paintings raged across the walls while the candles flickered softly, the movement of the light seeming to make the waters of her paintings roll and dance.

It was the most exciting and humbling thing that Aislinn had ever experienced.

"I can't believe that these are mine," Aislinn breathed.

Martin nodded in agreement. "Every great artist has a tendency to step back, as though emerging from a cloud, to look at what they've created and wonder…how did that come from me?"

Aislinn nodded at Martin. He understood.

"That doesn't mean you are a fraud, my dear. It just means that you are so immersed in your work that you don't always step back to see the bigger picture. And, this, oh this bigger picture, it's magnificent," Martin purred and pulled her through the line of candles as her paintings writhed in emotion around her, to her masterpiece.

The Revelation.

The panels were hung perfectly on the wall, and what had to be a thousand candles lined the floor in front of it, creating a barrier between people and the painting. The light danced across the panels and the painting was haunting, ethereal, and like a punch to her gut.

Aislinn looked at the glow from the cove and the softly lit figures that walked the sand beach. Turning, she looked at Martin.

"Sell it," she said flatly.

Martin drew back, his eyes wide in awe…and concern.

"You're quite sure?"

"Yes," Aislinn said simply and turned to where a line of people stood at the doors. "Shall we get started?"

"Of course, let's get you set up over here with your friends to start." Martin motioned to where Cait and Keelin and the others stood in the corner. She saw Morgan peeking out from behind the group, clad in a black knit dress, looking like a model having just stepped off the Paris fashion runways.

"Morgan!" Aislinn exclaimed and ran to her, wrapping her arms around the girl and pulling her in. Morgan stiffened for just a moment and then allowed herself to be hugged by Aislinn. It was a big improvement from her earlier days of refusing to be touched, Aislinn noted and then drew back from the girl.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. You've brought my show to life," Aislinn whispered.

"No, it was just an idea; your paintings needed a moody sort of lighting is all that I could think." Morgan shrugged it off but Aislinn grasped her arm and turned her to look out at the gallery.

"No, look at this. Really look at it. You've talent. We are going to talk more about this when we get back home. I think that I have some ideas on a direction for you…if you'd like?" Aislinn raised her eyebrow in question at Morgan and the girl nodded furiously.

"Aye, I'd love that."

Turning, she nodded at Martin and he pushed the doors open, inviting the waiting crowd of people.

"Ready? I'm going to say that I knew you when you weren't famous," Cait declared and snagged an appetizer from a passing waiter with a tray.

Aislinn laughed at her and turned to greet the incoming crowd of people.

A
n hour later, Aislinn's head was dizzy. She'd had her cheek pinched, her shoulder patted, and more than one invitation to dinner. People had congratulated her, condescended to her, and asked to commission her work. Her head spun at the craziness of it all.

Stepping back from the latest art buyer, who was trying to discuss painting technique and her motivation for one of the fury paintings, she reached for a glass of champagne to cool her dry throat.

The crowd swirled around her and Aislinn could see more than one discreet SOLD sticker on the paintings that lined the walls. She couldn't bring herself to look at The Revelation.

A flash of red caught her eye and she turned to see Fiona sailing through the crowd, her arms full of red poppies.

For a moment, just a brief second, happiness filled her as she thought about Baird. She crushed the thought down, refusing to think about him, knowing that if she did, the cold knot in her stomach would seep through her until it overtook the joy from the experience of her first show.

Fiona stopped before her and smiled up at her.

"Flowers? For me?" Aislinn smiled, refusing to think about how closely they matched the bouquet that Baird had given her just a day ago.

"For you," Fiona said, and as Aislinn reached to take them, she glanced up, across the room.

For a moment, time stood still and she could have sworn that she saw Baird standing in front of The Revelation. Her heart stopped and stricken, she raised her arm to say something, to motion to security to have him removed.

Fiona grabbed her arm and turned her, pulling her towards a quiet corner, Aislinn tried to look over her shoulder, but the old woman was speaking to her.

"There's a card," Fiona said, her words finally penetrating the fog that hung around Aislinn's head.

"Oh, what? Oh," Aislinn said and looked down at the glowing bouquet of flowers in her arms. The petals so closely matched the color of her dress, it was hard to see where one stopped and the other started. Dipping her hands into the blooms, she pulled a small card from the depths of the bouquet.

I believe in you. Can you believe in us?

Aislinn's heart clenched and tears threatened to fill her eyes. Fiona reached out and grabbed her arm, and as a small tingle of energy washed through her, Aislinn's eyes cleared.

"I don't usually do that, but there should only be tears of happiness tonight, my child," Fiona said and Aislinn raised her eyes, grateful for Fiona's help.

"He's here?" Aislinn breathed.

"He'll not disturb you. But the question on the card is valid," Fiona said.

"What? You're on his side?" Aislinn raised her eyebrows in shock at Fiona.

"I'm on the side of love," Fiona said easily, smiling up at her.

"He hurt me," Aislinn breathed.

"Aye, and it won't be the last time," Fiona said. "That's the thing with love…with emotions. It's messy. Things become intertwined, feelings hurt, and it's only true love when you seek to understand the other person's motivations and agree to forgive. That is the type of love that grows over the ages. A lasting, forgiving love."

"So you want me to forgive him?" Aislinn asked.

Fiona laughed and gestured around to the paintings that raged across the walls.

"You need to look to yourself for that answer, my dear. But, ask yourself this…why didn't you tell him that you loved him? What are you afraid of?"

Aislinn stopped, ready to defend herself, and then her eyes went to the trio of paintings across the room.

"I'm afraid that he won't love me or accept me…all of me," Aislinn whispered.

"And what happens if he doesn't?"

Aislinn shrugged her shoulders. "Then I pick myself up, paint through my heartbreak and move on."

"Exactly. The world won't stop for you. But what if he does…love you. All of you?"

Aislinn felt a warmth flow through her and she smiled at Fiona. "Then my world opens up, my life moves on, but with him by my side."

Fiona nodded at her.

"Exactly. Two different paths through this world.  In both, you'll find your way through. One way might bring your more happiness, is all." Fiona reached up and kissed her cheek. "It seems to me that you have a decision to make."

"You're right. And, here I am, acting all hurt and heartbroken when I never even told him that I loved him. And, he all but did everything he could to help make this show a success." Guilt churned at Aislinn suddenly.

Fiona turned a commanding gaze on Aislinn. "I'm not saying that the man doesn't deserve a little butt-kicking. I'm just saying that you have some thinking to do. Oh, and that I am so incredibly proud of you. Would you just look at this?" Fiona swept her arm out to the packed gallery, illuminated by candlelight and the emotions of her paintings. Aislinn caught a glimpse of her mother flirting with Martin and smiled. "It's beyond words. You, my dear, are a power to be reckoned with. Never have I seen such emotion simply bleed from paintings before. I've already purchased one and I'm considering another."