Page 2 of Balancing Act (Soulmate #1)

ONE

BETH

Under the soft lighting of the Emerald City Art Gallery, Beth stood on a stage, all eyes on her as Sean Cassidy, her longtime representative and friend, spoke.

“Thank you all for coming out here this evening for the final installment of Bare Essence,” Sean said to the partygoers dotted around the gallery. “None of this would have been possible without the absolute brilliance of the artist herself, Beth Walsh.”

At least a hundred people stood before her. Beth had tried to gauge quickly, but she kept losing count.

“I’ve had the pleasure of representing Beth since discovering her years ago, and since that day, it’s truly been one hell of an artistic adventure.

Now, Beth, what do you say? Can you give us a few words before we kick things off?

” Sean gestured toward her, and a gentle applause rose from the crowd.

She took a deep breath, the sense of accomplishment coursing through her veins.

This was it. She had done it. She’d secured and completed a year-long national tour of her art, and tonight was closing night.

This night, this huge accomplishment in her career, had been years in the making, and she was electrified.

That feeling took over as it spread throughout her body to the tips of her fingers, wrapping her in warmth. Time to shine.

“Thank you.” Beth held a steady hand up, waiting for the gentle applause to die.

“Thank you.” She raised her hand, and a hush fell over the small crowd before her.

The soft, dim gallery perfectly illuminated and accentuated her artworks’ vivid hues and textures.

Shadows cast over the exhibition attendees, obscuring their features, and she felt the unmistakable weight of everyone’s eyes fixed on her.

“Welcome to the final show of Bare Essence,” she said, with a sweep of her arm, gesturing to the canvases on the walls around her.

She took a moment—just a moment—to calm her nerves before continuing.

“The collection I’ve curated for you tonight is a passionate exploration of the female form, diving deep into the abstract emotions evoked by our bodies and the people we share them with.

” The words began to flow a little easier.

“It’s not only about what you see, but also about what you feel.

The textures, the hidden whispers of intimacy.

The unbridled rawness of human desire and how it can build us up, while also illustrating the precariousness of love and longing and the power it has to destroy us.

Every brushstroke is an invitation to experience and celebrate the innate sensuality of the divine feminine. ”

Beth paused, a smile on her lips. She looked around the room, making eye contact with those faces closest to her.

The ambient hum of the gallery faded as an almost palpable magnetic force pulled her gaze toward a figure at the edge of her view.

Amid the cluster of guests stood a woman with dark features and chestnut curls cascading over the sharp lines of a perfectly tailored emerald-hued velvet suit.

Their eyes locked, an electric charge passing between them, and for one short moment, Beth felt a small heat rising in her cheeks.

“Dive in,” she said, lingering on the dark eyes that held hers with unflinching intensity. “Lose yourself.”

She felt a familiar pull stir deep within. With a sultry tone, she continued. “And remember, art, like passion, is best enjoyed without inhibitions.”

Beth flashed a confident, mischievous smile, and elegantly lifted her champagne glass in a silent toast to the captivated audience.

Still, her eyes never left the brunette.

The woman tilted her head toward the crowd’s edge, her lips curling into a subtle, knowing smile.

Beth felt her pulse quicken. It wasn’t her imagination, and this wasn’t a passing glance or polite acknowledgment.

This was deliberate. Her heart beat faster, her curiosity now impossible to ignore.

As the clapping subsided, the jazz band resumed its performance, its soft melodies floating effortlessly through the gallery. Sean handed Beth a fresh glass of champagne, and she felt the weight of the night finally settle over her.

Conversations filled the room again as people began to mingle, and Beth scanned the space, hoping to see the woman in the suit.

She had every intention of walking right up to her and introducing herself.

She spotted her, and Beth made to move in the woman’s direction, but a gentle hand on her back guided her toward a small group of gallery patrons.

“I hate to interrupt whatever moment you’re having,” Sean whispered in her ear, a hint of amusement in his tone, “but I need to borrow you. There are a few people I want you to charm the pants off—or at least charm enough to invest in your art. And don’t forget, Lane Walker is here tonight.

” He drained the champagne flute he had been holding in one gulp. Beth’s ears perked up at that name.

“Lane Walker is here?” she asked.

Sean nodded, an excited glimmer in his eyes.

“How did you manage that?”

Beth had told herself this night was about celebrating her success, but the reality was clear: landing Lane Walker’s attention could open doors to opportunities she’d been chasing for years.

“I’m incredibly good at my job, darling. Plus, Lane owed me a favor. I saved their ass after that installation mishap at LACMA two years ago, right after they became head curator. I cashed that favor in for you. If you want a spot on the residency program in LA, Lane is the one to impress.”

As Sean led her toward the patrons, Beth glanced back over her shoulder. The woman was still there, her gaze steady and unreadable. Beth bit the inside of her cheek, already making a mental note to find her later. She had to know who she was.

She hated this side of being an artist—all the small talk, schmoozing, and listening to people drone on and on about things she frankly didn’t care about.

But Sean was right; this was part of pursuing painting as a career.

So she put on her best I’m actively listening face and smiled gently at the older woman Sean had introduced her to.

Beth had already forgotten her name. Still, she smiled and nodded as the woman rambled on about all the artwork she had collected over the years.

Beth’s attention shifted the minute chestnut curls crossed into her view.

The woman in the green suit. She caught herself stealing glances, her eyes tracing the contours of the woman’s figure before she forced her attention back on the potential patron in front of her.

Her mind was spinning, trying to think of a reasonable excuse to get her out of this discussion and free to pursue what she hoped would be an interesting exchange with the brunette.

Her eyes drifted back toward the woman who was unknowingly—maybe knowingly—taunting her through proximity alone.

This time, though, the woman was joined by a petite redhead.

From Beth’s vantage point, the soft light of the gallery illuminated the brunette’s features, giving Beth a clearer glimpse of her face.

Deep-set eyes and striking cheekbones framed her face beautifully.

The redhead must have said something funny, because a slow, easy smile spread across the other woman’s face, punctuated by the most adorable dimples Beth had ever seen.

The sight sent a warm, fluttering pull through her, stealing her breath for half a second.

Oh, she was in trouble. She was swooning—hard.

“Beth?” Sean’s eyes were on her as he waited expectantly.

She snapped her attention back to the group. She hadn’t realized how long she’d been zoned out.

“Yes. Yes, my apologies. Something you said sparked a creative thought that I allowed myself to indulge for a moment.” She flashed the group a smile. They seemed to accept her excuse without question and continued the conversation.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice what had you distracted,” Sean hissed slyly, as they moved away from the group. “Creative thought my ass.” He shook his head in mock disapproval, causing Beth to smile.

“Can you blame me? Did you see her? She’s gorgeous. And the way that suit fits...” She sighed. “Perfect.”

“You’ve always been a sucker for a brunette in a suit. You know what? I say go for it. She’s cute, and you’ve earned it.”

Beth rolled her eyes at Sean. Who did he think he was, trying to give her permission? “Funny, last time I checked, I didn’t need your approval.”

“Well, before you do or don’t do anything, there are a few more people I need to introduce you to before the night is over.”

She threw back the last of her drink, finishing it in one gulp. “Let’s get it over with.”

As much as Beth hated Sean’s interruptions, she knew he was right, but by the time Sean had finished introducing her to his special guests, her cheeks hurt from fake smiling her way through each handshake and resulting conversation.

There was only one person left to talk to—Lane Walker, who, every time Sean and Beth approached, seemed to be deep in conversation with someone else.

“I need a break,” Sean declared. The attendees had thinned slightly as the evening wore on, but many people remained.

“Let’s reconvene in an hour. I’ll grab you if I can manage to snag Lane.

Now go, mingle, and don’t forget, be charming .

” She glared at him as he turned and made his way toward the bar, leaving Beth alone for the first time in an hour.

“I’m always charming,” she mumbled, eyes scanning the room carefully, looking for a specific shade of emerald.

Beth spotted her, and she couldn’t help the grin that instinctively pulled at her lips, seeing that this time, the woman was alone. She grabbed another champagne flute from a passing waiter and took a long sip before deciding it was now or never. As Sean had said, she had earned this.