The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga) by Tommie Conrad

when deep in thought.  But momentarily, another voice from the past interrupted him.
    “It’s hard to believe one man can possess so much talent.”  His mouth changed into a quick smile and he pulled her into a hug.  When he placed a kiss on her cheek, she blushed.
    “Miss Alice,” he said with reverence.  “I’ve been waiting here for you all day.”   
    “You clean up very nicely, young man.” She brushed imaginary dust away from his coat lapels.
    “Why thank you, ma’am.”  He laughed.  “See anything you’d like to buy?”
    She waved her hand at him.  “Most of it is outside my pric e range, young man.  I wouldn’t say no to a free sample, though.”
    Chandler nodded.  “For you, I’ll paint the Grand Canyon.”
    “You flatter me, sweetie.”  She checked from side to side, made sure no one was within earshot at the moment.  “Thank you again for giving Taylor this job.”
    “Think nothing of it, ma’am.  She earned it with her level of experience.  It was a stroke of luck that she applied when she did, because I was just about ready to give up on it.”
    “That would have been a very bad idea,” Alice mused, “because you’re clearly smitten with her, and I think the feeling is mutual.” 
    He was mildly perturbed by her insinuation, because it held more than a grain of truth.  “Miss Alice, you can’t live in the past.  What we had back then, it was great, but it’s over and we’re different people.  This is a simple business arrangement and I w on’t do anything to make her feel uncomfortable.”  Famous last words, his conscience retorted.
    “You always were a gentleman,” Alice rejoined.  “Speaking of which, I think I’ll go praise your mother for raising such a kind young man.  If you’ll excuse me…”
    “Of course,” Chandler said, for lack of anything else.  “It was great to see you again.”
    “You too, Chandler.  Don’t be a stranger.  Stop by the house anytime.”
    He blew comically from the corner of his mouth, the puff of breath fluffing his eyelashes for a second.  Everyone loved his art, but they clearly thought his love life needed a fresh coat of paint.
    ***
    Late in the day, with the public gone and only family and friends remaining, he gathered them all in the middle room for an informal message of gratitude.  Taylor stood at his side, not quite sure of her place otherwise but knowing that it felt correct to be there, at his right hand.
    He cleared his throat and smiled.  “I’d like to thank each and every one of you for being here today.  I’d like to thank you for the sage advice and wisdom you’ve given me over the years, and the care you expended raising me.  Mom and Dad, I know I put a few of those grey hairs on your heads.”
    Chase laughed.  “It’s not grey,” he pointed out for his son’s benefit.  “When you’ re blonde, you go platinum.”
    Chandler grinned with pride.  “I’ll try to remember that.  Sometimes I was difficult to live with so to my siblings and their wonderful spouses, I owe you big time.”
    “Remember that next time I need you to muck out the horse stalls,” CJ joked.
    “I may end up regretting that,” Chandler observed.  “I’d like to thank Scott for his wonderful photography, once again.  You were the first artist I ever met.”
    Scott laughed.  “Thank you.  By the way, the check will clear, right?”  Everyon e laughed at the good-natured ribbing.
    “It will, Scott.  I promise.”  Chandler turned toward Taylor and smiled warmly.  “The person I need to thank the most is standing here next to me.  She took a big leap of faith on me this week, and not for the first ti me in our lives, so I think Taylor Holt deserves a big round of applause for turning this place from just another hobby for me into a rousing success in just six days.”  He put his hands together and everyone did the same.  She wasn’t quite sure how to respond, for she hadn’t expected such a