Page 7 of Family Affair

“Hello, Rosa. What a wonderful evening. Thank you for inviting me.”

“But of course.” Rosa’s gaze dismissed her and flickered to Dan. “And how are you, Dan?" Her voice practically dripped sugar. "How’s Maureen?”

Dan smiled politely and inclined his head. “Very well, thank you. Congratulations on your new place. I’m sure Mother would love to come take a look one day soon.”

Rosa's thin painted lips puckered in a coquettish pout. “Tell her she should. We have a ton of beautiful paintings and a very talented new sculptor. A fresh perspective.” She patted Dan on the sleeve. Her gaze skimmed over Coco. “Enjoy the party, Coco. I didn’t know you and Dan are an item. You never said.”

Rosa gave Dan another one of her thin-lipped smiles and moved to chat with the next group of people.

Frowning, Coco followed Rosa with her gaze. In her two years of volunteering here to learn the art world’s business side, Coco had not once been called “dearest” by Rosa. Her relationship with Dan musthave elevated herin the gallery owner’s eyes.

“What’s the matter, love, why so serious?” Dan lightly touched her nose.

“I’m thinking about showing my own work. I guess I’m ready for exposure if I want to sell.”

“Your illustrations?”

“Oils, Dan. I work with oils. Sometimes watercolors. It’s called art.”

“Sure, of course. Who are you going to sell them to?”

“To people who like them. Like this.” She swept her hand around.

“You mean, at a gallery?”

Taken aback by his surprise, she spoke with conviction, “Why not? I’m no different from the artists you see here tonight.”

“The artists I see here are professionals. They have skill and the talent.”

“I have the skill,” she argued defensively. “I took classes in studio art. And I’ve been praised for my talent. What I need at this point is exposure.”

“And you want to get it here, at La Vedova?” He gave a dry laugh and drank from his glass.

Coco didn’t find his condescending tone amusing. Dan judged her abilities on the basis of what, exactly? He couldn’t tell Van Gogh from Caravaggio and understood zilch about art of any form, he had acknowledged that himself.

"You’re right, La Vedova’s top notch. So of course, I’d want to show here. In fact, I may have a chance. Come fall, I’m going to have a small show in Arizona, and their gallery’s even bigger.”

His forehead wrinkled. “Why in Arizona?”

“One of my works won an annual Fine Arts Contest in Sedona. With an award like that under my belt, La Vedova might very well offer me a deal.”

Knowing Rosa, it was a long shot, but Coco wanted Dan to believe in her abilities. It was imperative that he did.

He patted her on the arm. “I get it, you’re serious. I just don’t want you to be heartbroken when you don’t sell as well as you imagine you should.”

“If I don’t try, I’ll never know. I wish you saw my works before you pass judgment. Actually, you’ve seen them. Those landscapes that hang at my mother’s?”

“You’ve got pictures in your house?”

“Never mind.”

Tension thick enough to cut with a knife permeated the distance between Coco and Dan as they walked outside.

“Thanks for coming,” Coco said, ready to go home. She searched for and found her car keys in her bag without looking at him. “I will call you later.”

“Wait, Coco.” Dan followed her to her car.

She ignored him. She needed time, maybe a day or two, to think things through on her own, to decide whether Dan’s attitude changed anything.