Page 48 of The Artist

“Ah.”Veronica nodded.“He does tend to forget everything and everyone when he gets into thatzone.”

“Well, he’s in the zone.I’m not even sure he’s sleeping at all.”

“If he is getting any sleep, it’s on that old couch in the studio.You can’t do anything to get him out of that zone when he’s there.”She reached over and placed a hand on top of Alexis’s where it sat on the counter.“It’s not that he doesn’t want to be there for you.He just can’t right now.Wait for a few days and he’ll be right as rain.”

“I can’t.He knows where to find me, if he wants to.”

Alexis returned to Aspen.She oversaw the rebuilding of her gallery and had never been more miserable in her life.

This is where I belong,she told herself every night before she cried herself to sleep.I could never fit into Peter’s world.The ball proved that.While I had fun, and it was nice being Cinderella for a night, that’s all it was.One night.How could I do that all the time?I couldn’t.I’d hate it and I’d resent Peter for making me do it.I don’t want that.I love him too much, to be a pain in his side.And when it really comes down to it, I’m not willing to give up my dreams in order to live in his world.

Two monthslater

Peter stayed mostlyin his studio, trying to lose himself in his art, but he couldn’t.He painted Alexis.Her face smiling at him.Exhilaration as she was fitted in the dress for the ball.At the ball as they danced.He remembered every smile and every laugh.He’d never been as happy as he was that night when he held her in his arms.He never wanted to let her go, but he hadn’t any choice.

When he’d awakened that morning, ten days after the ball, he found the dress she’d worn was spread out on her bed and she was gone.She’d stayed the ten days she promised and then, when he tried to get her to stay, she left him and went back to Aspen.

He’s rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“She’s gone,” said Veronica.“She called an Uber and left about five o’clock this morning.She me this note for you.”She handed him a folded piece of paper.

He walked to the table and sat.His hands shook as he opened the note.

Peter,

I couldn’t stay.You know that.I had a wonderful time with you.A vacation from my real life, but that’s all it was.I would never fit into your world, probably filled with more balls and charity events than I can even imagine.My life is in Aspen, at my gallery.It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember and I can’t give it up, no matter how much I love you.

Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.

Alexis

His pulse pounded in his head as he slammed his fist onto the table.“She loves me.Veronica, she said she loves me, but how can that be true if she left me?”Didn’t he mean more to her than that?

Veronica let out a deep breath and stopped kneading the bread she was getting ready to bake.“Sometimes it’s easier to let go of the person we love than let go of our dreams.While you were painting, she and I spent quite some time together.She’s had the dream of her own gallery since she was a child.She told me how much it meant to her.It was her whole life and after her husband died, it was her only reason for living.You can’t expect her to give that up.And she would be if she moved here.She’s only known you for a few weeks and yes, she might love you, but it’s not enough,” she lowered her jaw and looked at him.“Especially when you don’t love her.”

“How do you know I don’t love her?”How do I know if I love her?

“Do you?Can you stand there and tell me that you love her enough to do whatever it takes to be with her?Can you give up flying to Hawaii for a showing during her busy season?Or flying to Cannes like you have been for the last two years?”

“I…I…” He ran a hand through his hair.“I don’t know.”

“Well, when you know, you come see me.”She went back to the bread she’d been kneading.

Peter sighed, took the note and went to his office.Do I love her?Why don’t I know?

Even after all this time, as miserable as he was, he wasn’t sure.What if she had learned she didn’t love him?

And why was he being so selfish?Did he love her?Yes.A resounding—yes!Why had it taken him so long to realize it?Did he have to make himself miserable first?Was he some sort of closet masochist?He must be if he put himself through all of this, when he could have just gone to her.But what if it was too late now?He was meeting with A.J.today and he would leave for Aspen after that.He had to know if A.J.had found anything to use against Beecher.After that he was out of there.He went upstairs to pack.

When he was done, he brought the single bag downstairs and left it at the bottom of the staircase.Then he went to his office to wait on his P.I.And to pray that he found something to take Beecher down.

A.J.Watson drove up to the home of Peter Kincaid.The mammoth three -story log home was no less than what he expected given Peter’s wealth.Though he’d worked for Peter before, he’d usually met him in Denver at his art studio when he was in town.He’d met him in Aspen, last, but that was an unusual circumstance.Given the size of this property, A.J.had to wonder why he needed an art studio in Denver.

The door opened and a small dark haired woman stood there.

“May I help you?”

He nodded.“I’m A.J.Watson.I have an appointment with Peter Kincaid.”