When they got there, there were already quite a few people, holding glasses of wine and munching on cheese and crackers. Angela and Krysta didn’t wait too long to help themselves. Free food was always good. Adam was standing by his largest piece, in deep conversation with a well dressed older man.
“I’d better leave him alone. Maybe he’s making a sale,” Krysta told Angela as she stuffed her face with baby spinach crostinis.
“You’re having a much better time raiding the appetizer table anyways,” Angela joked.
“You know me – I like checking the crowd.” She gave a closed smile to her friend. Angela knew exactly what she was talking about. She had no shame.
“But aren’t you in a serious relationship with Adam?” she teased.
“Not quite yet. Not quite yet.” They walked slowly, perusing the different works.
Large block canvases were everywhere on the walls and flowing from the ceiling, hanging off wires; city landscapes in muted colors. Collages of black and white photographs printed on paper, mixed with digital media and watercolor renderings. They were striking; poignant and soft.
“He is quite talented though,” Krysta added.
“Definitely,” Angela agreed. Adam may not have been the nicest guy on the planet but he was definitely talented.
“Wow.” Krysta whispered.
“What?” Angela asked, curious.
“Check out that guy. I would definitely not kick him out of my bed for eating crackers. Hot.”
“You wouldn’t kick anyone out of your bed,” Angela joked. She was intrigued and turned around to see exactly how hot this man was.
He was dressed in a black suit, more formally then most people there, in conversation with a slender woman, holding a glass of red. Angela would have recognized that smile anywhere. Her pulse quickened. She felt flushed.
“Oh God... that’s him,” she told Krysta.
“That’s who? Who is he?”
Angela took her friend by the arm and led her behind a large canvas, out of Michael’s sight.
“That’s Michael,” she whispered. “I can’t believe it.”
“Michael?” Krysta stretched her neck to get a better look.
“Oh... you didn’t do him justice with your description.Thatis more than ‘all right’, girl.”
Angela peaked over the canvas. He did look gorgeous. He and her had been much too intimate lately; not on a physical level but on an emotional level.
“Why are we hiding?” Krysta laughed.
“What are you, six years old? You’re a piece of work, Angela.” She set out to meet this Mister Charming. If Angela wasn’t going to introduce her, she would introduce herself.
Angela ran after her, incredibly concerned, her heart beating even faster, her high heels not quite keeping up with her.
They walked up to Michael and his mystery date.
“I wonder who the woman is…” Krysta whispered.
“Probably his date,” Angela suggested.
They stood behind them about five seconds. Krysta, not being the most patient person, finally spoke. “That’s my personal favorite.”
As Michael turned around, he immediately saw Angela who offered him a shy smile.
She looked fantastic. And that dress. There was no one else in the room.
