1022 Evergreen Place - Debbie Macomber [36]
“He’s worked in almost every medium,” she said, and seemed unable to keep her admiration at bay. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as versatile as Larry. Well, actually, we haven’t met, not officially, but I’m familiar with his work and I almost feel I know him through you. It’s such a privilege to finally meet him.”
Will was growing tired of this. “I’ve known Larry for years. We met in Atlanta in ’96, at the unveiling of a painting he did for the Olympics,” Will said, bringing the conversation back to himself. He’d been involved in organizing the cocktail party and subsequent press. Truthfully, Georgia had done much of the work, but she preferred to remain in the background, whereas Will enjoyed the limelight.
Shirley nodded. “Were you aware Larry used to do cover art?”
“Cover art?”
“For novels.”
Will hadn’t known about that part of Larry’s portfolio. “Really?”
“At one time he illustrated children’s books, too.”
He arched his eyebrows in a show of surprise. “He doesn’t anymore, does he?”
“No. He’s priced himself out of that market and probably the commercial art market, as well.”
Will murmured something noncommittal.
“I’m so thrilled to have this opportunity to meet him,” Shirley said, sounding more animated than he’d ever heard her.
Will crossed his legs and suspected now might be a good time to reinforce the fact that her entrée to the great Larry Knight was due to him. “Like I said earlier, we’re old friends.” He didn’t mention that the artist had lost his wife five years before, because it gave Larry and Shirley a common bond, which didn’t do anything to set his mind at ease.
“Oh, I know,” she said reverently.
He nodded, basking in her appreciation.
“If I wasn’t for you and Larry, Shaw would probably still be working at Mocha Mama’s.”
Some of his tension ebbed. Shirley understood; he hadn’t invited her so she could fawn over Larry Knight. She was his date.
The Seattle Art Museum was already crowded when they arrived. The walk from the ferry dock up to First Avenue had been exhilarating. It was a beautiful spring night, and the “glitterati” were out in force. Will felt he and Shirley blended perfectly with the rich and cultured art lovers making their way to the event. The tickets hadn’t been cheap, and Will hoped Shirley appreciated that he’d put down serious money for this opportunity. He’d also made dinner reservations at an expensive restaurant.
When they entered the gallery, Larry was standing with a group of people, all chatting and drinking a variety of high-end wines, if the bottles on display were any indication. Larry was a tall man, two or three inches over six feet. He wasn’t big or muscular but he had a commanding presence. These days he sported a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard and tonight he wore a Western-style jacket. His hair, a bit too long by Will’s standards, was combed back from his forehead.
“Come on. I’ll introduce you,” he said, steering Shirley in Larry’s direction. Knowing how many people Larry met, Will hoped there wouldn’t be an awkward moment before he recognized him.
He waited politely until Larry was free, then stepped forward. “Larry, I’d like to introduce my friend, Shirley Bliss.”
“Will Jefferson.” Larry shook hands with him. “Wonderful to see you again.”
“You, too,” Will told the other man, hoping his relief wasn’t evident.
Next, Larry turned to Shirley and extended his hand. “Shirley Bliss,” he repeated slowly. “I recognize the name. You’re an artist?”
Shirley blushed profusely and seemed too tongue-tied to answer.
“Shirley is a fabric artist from Cedar Cove,” Will said.
“Shirley Bliss,” Larry said, as if the name had suddenly clicked in his mind. “Of course. I’ve seen your work.”
“You have?” Shirley seemed stunned by this revelation.
“Yes. Will here sent me a photograph of his gallery, and I had an excellent view of the dragon, which he said is currently on display. An incredible piece.”
“Why…thank you. That’s one of the biggest compliments of my career.”
“Red wine or white?” Will asked brusquely.