Margie, vibrant in a flowy boho skirt and tank top that showcased her assortment of arm tattoos, waved a hand adorned with chunky rings. “I became a fashion designer.”
“That’s a diverse set of careers,” Jane marveled.
“We like to keep things interesting.” Margie winked, her bangles jingling with the motion. “These days, our competitionhas shifted to buying the best gifts for our grandchildren. We’re hoping to pick up some unique items here in town.”
“Oh, how lovely!”
“It’s our own version ofThe Price Is Right,” Carol joked.
“I think you’ll find exactly what you want.”
Jane’s phone chirped with an incoming text, and she left the ladies to their conversation. Pulling the phone out of her apron, she saw it was from one of her best friends, Maxi.
SOS!Art Gallery Chaos! HELP!
CHAPTER TWO
Jane pushed open the gallery door, stepping into an airy space that felt like a war zone rather than the sanctuary of art it usually was. The room was generous in size, its floor-to-ceiling windows and overhead skylights usually offering an inviting luminescence. White walls, normally the quiet backdrop for vibrant art, today seemed to amplify the tension in the room. At opposite ends stood two artists, each guarding their exhibit as if it were a fortress. Both wore expressions sharp enough to etch glass. Maxi, her long white hair twisted into a messy bun, was caught in the crossfire, standing between them. Her arms moved erratically, punctuating the air as she attempted—unsuccessfully, it appeared—to play mediator.
“What on earth is going on?” Jane said, slipping in next to Maxi.
Maxi’s expression was a mix of relief and exasperation. “Oh, thank heavens you’re here! Meet Gerard, a fine sculptor specializing in blending Native American art with digital installations. And this is Priya, an incredible painter who merges classical Renaissance techniques with Bollywood themes.”
Jane took in the exhibits. Gerard’s space was filled with intricate sculptures that incorporated digital elements—like atotem pole that transformed into a virtual waterfall via a projection. On Priya’s side, richly colored canvases showcased sumptuous Renaissance-styled portraits in saris and turbans, adorned with flashy Bollywood jewelry.
“The problem,” Maxi sighed, “is that they both want the centerpiece spot for their exhibit, and neither will budge.”
“I was here first,” Gerard grumbled, arms crossed. “My installation needs the central space for the digital projections to work correctly.”
“And I should have the central spot,” Priya retorted, “because the lighting there will highlight the jewel tones in my paintings!”
Jane looked at Maxi. “They both have valid points. But why not try to see this as an opportunity?”
“An opportunity for what?” Maxi asked, clearly at her wits’ end.
“Working together maybe?” Jane threw a hopeful look at the two artists.
Gerard threw up his hands. “That’s it! I will not share my space with her primitive pieces!”
Priya shot back, “Primitive? At least my art has soul, not like your superficial pop art!”
“I’m leaving, Maxi. Make your choice,” Gerard huffed.
“And I’m taking my work with me,” Priya declared.
“In that case, I’m leaving first!” Gerard said, marching toward the door.
“No, I am!” Priya insisted, quickening her pace to beat him to it.
The two artists arrived at the gallery’s entrance simultaneously, both hands reaching for the doorknob. They glared at each other, stuck in a comedic deadlock, each refusing to let go. Finally, they pulled the door open and stormed out, shoulders bumping, both muttering under their breath.
Maxi sighed, brushing a stray lock of white hair from her forehead. “Well, that went well,” she said, the sarcasm dripping from each word.
Claire burst into the gallery, her eyes darting from the departing artists to Maxi and Jane. “I got your emergency text. What on earth is going on here?”
Maxi ran a hand over her messy white bun, looking utterly defeated. “Just a minor catastrophe. Those two artists couldn’t agree on exhibit space, and now they’ve both stormed off, threatening to pull their work.”
“Oh no!” Claire adjusted her auburn curls as she glanced back out the window.
