He peers at the paper, blinking. “What’s this about?”
“The show will feature contemporary and historical works made right here in Allentown. We have a long tradition of artists working in a wide range of media, from painting and sculpture to dance and video. Have you heard about the exhibition?”
When I look up, I see the mechanics coming down the street. Little Joe waves a crab claw at me and shuffles toward us, and I subtly shake my head and direct him away.
Luckily, the man doesn’t seem to notice me. He folds the paper and tucks it in his jacket. “Photography, too?” he asks, and turns his eyes to me.
Remembering a display I saw at the bookstore, I nod. “This region has a long history of landscape photography, and Buffalo has been a real hub.”
Finn looks to me, impressed, and the man nods.
“Perhaps I’ll check it out,” he mutters, then casts a disparaging glance at the chaotic scene unfolding down the street before he climbs into the car and departs.
Finn lets out a deep breath. “Disaster maybe temporarily diverted?”
“Smart idea, telling him about that art show.”
He nods. “Thanks for thinking to get me, Riley.” Finn quickly, briefly touches my arm. The pressure of his hand is gentle and warm, and it breaks me down the middle when he pulls it away. “I should get back to the shop I abandoned.”
“No problem,” I manage, and my voice catches. “Glad I could help.”
Finn takes off, and I’m left standing there, head spinning and heart in my throat.
And wanting him so badly, I don’t even know how to admit it to myself.
