Stealing Sunshine Page 2

  When the man raised his glass between them, the spell was broken and the woman looked away. Tara felt a cool rush of loss flood her body, and she stepped forward in a desperate attempt to regain the connection. But her movement was stopped by a melodic chime overhead and a firm grip on her arm.

  “Are you ready?”

  Tara blinked and glanced over at Cate. “What?” She was caught off guard both by Cate’s sudden return and the swirl of unfamiliar emotions within her.

  “The show. We should get to our seats.” When Tara didn’t move, she leaned in close. “Tara, is everything all right?”

  “Huh? Yeah. I’m fine. Is it time? We should go in,” Tara said before she looked back across the room where the woman in the red dress no longer stood.

  Chapter Three

  Belle selected a track on her cell phone’s music player and pressed play. She slipped the phone into her back pocket and pushed an earbud into each ear. Belle hooked several wire leads to the back of her work belt and headed up the ladder toward the ceiling mounted hanging rail. Belle was an exhibition and art technician for the Emily J. Grayson Museum of Art. While it wasn’t one of the museum’s most glamorous positions, it was one that Belle loved and enjoyed immensely. She spent most of her time moving, hanging, or storing some of the world’s most valuable and priceless artworks. She reveled in the opportunity to be as close to a painting as the artist himself—close enough to see the painter’s delicate brushstrokes or even a stray paintbrush bristle that the artist left behind two hundred years earlier.

  Belle had begun her journey in the art world when she was seventeen. The Grayson Museum was her escape, her haven from a mad and harsh world. When she looked back on her life, it was void of any true connection except for those moments when she surrounded herself with the beauty and majesty of the greatest art of masters. Belle found a home at the Grayson, something she never had anywhere else.

  She slipped two wire leads into the rail, and they swung loosely against the wall. They would soon hold the weight of both the art and its history. Belle climbed down the ladder and eyed the empty space that would soon be filled with a gilt framed Degas. She could see the detail of the painting as if it already hung before her. She sang along to the song that played in her headphones as she shifted the ladder to her next position.

  Most modern art galleries and museums preferred the isolated display methods for their art. This allowed the viewers to absorb the art’s beauty and delicacies without the intrusion of the other pieces in the room. Belle preferred a more robust method of display known as a salon style. She wanted to be overwhelmed and bombarded with the beauty of the pieces all at once in a grand display of passion and brilliance. It reminded her of Hubert Robert’s painting of the Design for the Grande Galerie in the Louvre. Although she understood how, in a world overwhelmed with technology and instant access, the more personalized approach would be favored. Maybe it was because she often got as much one-on-one time with a piece as she wanted.

  Belle climbed down and once again stepped back to inspect her spacing when she bumped into something. Ever cautious of her surroundings, she spun around to make sure it wasn’t a rack of priceless art. She screamed in shock when she came face-to-face with Kyle. She ripped her earplugs out and shoved him. “What the hell!”

  Kyle laughed at her startled reaction. “Hi. Whatcha doin’?” he asked in his most innocent voice.

  “I hate when you do that. And I’m working. What the hell does it look like I’m doing?” Belle despised being scared or startled, especially when she was in full concentration.

  “Sorry. So, are you at a stopping point for lunch? I just finished proofing the last marketing pamphlets, and I am starving.”

  Kyle was the director of development for the museum. Whenever there was a free moment in their day, they would walk downtown for lunch or sit in the park and people watch. “Sure. Do you want to get a sandwich from Eli’s Deli and go to the park?”

  “You read my mind, as always.”

  Belle and Kyle picked up their lunch from the restaurant and headed to their favorite spot under one of the large oak trees that lined the park green. Some families gathered on blankets and watched their children play tag, while others tossed Frisbees and tennis balls for their dogs. Belle and Kyle sat on a bench with their meals and enjoyed the sunshine and smiles in the park.

  Kyle was the first to break their companionable silence. “Andrew and I are meeting some of his company friends at The Lamb later tonight. I think you should come.”

  Belle looked over at him with trepidation. “Oh, I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Belle. It will be fun. We’ll get out, get some drinks, have some laughs.”

  Belle knew she wouldn’t win any argument she put up against Kyle. He never took no for an answer, most often when it involved getting her out of the museum or the house. “You know I get so weird around Andrew’s dance friends, with their perfect hair and even more perfect bodies. They aren’t human I tell you.”

  “Give me a break. They aren’t any more beautiful or perfect than you are. They’re just people. And they like you.” Kyle never passed up an opportunity to make Belle feel good about herself. He looked at her with a stern yet endearing face.

  Belle laughed at her defeat. “Fine, I’ll go.”

  “That’s my girl.” Kyle flung an arm around Belle’s shoulders and pulled her in for a tight squeeze.

  “One of these days I will tell you no and mean it.” Belle said it, but not even she believed it. The truth was that she liked going out with her boys, and for the most part, their friends were hers, too.

  Two men pushed a stroller past them, and they both cooed in unison. “I want that,” Kyle said.

  Belle felt a small knot twist in her gut, but she took a deep breath and pushed it away. “I think you would make wonderful parents.” She meant it. They knew no bounds on loving or being loved, and Belle couldn’t have imagined two people more deserving or more capable of parenthood. “You should do it.”

  “What?” Kyle looked at Belle with surprise.

  “You should. I think it would be fantastic. I’ve always wanted to be an auntie.” Belle had no siblings. Aside from Kyle and Andrew, she had no one, so they were her family. “Aunt Belle.”

  “I don’t know if Andrew is ready for that. I mean, he just made principal. He’s at the top of his career. I don’t think he’d want to give that up to change diapers and get spit up on.”

  “Well, it’s something you two would need to discuss, but I wouldn’t count him out. You don’t have to give up on your dreams just to have a family. “

  Kyle and Belle looked back toward the men. They sat on a large blanket under a bright rainbow umbrella while they laughed and played with their daughter. Kyle’s sigh was filled with hope. “Maybe.”

  *

  Tara and Cate reclined in their lawn chairs and watched the children that splashed and squealed in the pool. “Aunt Tara, come in the pool!” Two identical bright-eyed girls peeked up from the side of the pool with ear-to-ear grins.

  “Eden, Olivia, go play. Your aunt doesn’t want to get in the pool right now,” Lucy Atwater told her daughters. The girls groaned in disappointment at her dismissal. She handed Tara and Cate their drinks and sat on the end of Tara’s chair.

  Lucy was Tara’s sister, more specifically, her twin sister. Although Tara most often referred to Lucy as her older sister since she’d been born first. Tara looked around her and comforted the twins. “Maybe later, girls.” The response elicited a renewed set of squeals before they swam off to race each other across the length. Tara smiled. “I just love them.”

  “Enough to spend the day with them on Friday while Charlie and I go meet with a client in Tampa?” Lucy raised her eyebrows in hopes that Tara would say yes.

  Of course Tara was going to say yes, but the way Lucy asked made her feel a little peeved. “Why do you say it like that? You know I would spend all the time in the world with them if you needed
me to.”

  “I didn’t mean anything, T. I just didn’t know if you would be…available.”

  Tara knew that was Lucy’s segue into bringing up Tara’s career choices, or lack of them. “Yes, I’m available. I work tonight and Saturday so I can take them all day.” She still had to sit through dinner with the family so she wasn’t in the mood to discuss the inevitable topic of her life twice in one day.

  The housekeeper appeared with towels for the girls and announced that dinner was almost ready. Lucy patted Tara on the leg. “Thank you. The girls will be very excited to spend the day with you.” Lucy helped the twins out of the pool and rushed them inside to change for dinner.

  “I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it,” Cate said as she slipped her shirt on over her head.

  “I know she didn’t. But you know they will.” By that, she meant her parents, as it had in effect become a family dinner tradition.

  As expected, dinner went just as it always had and ended when Tara announced she had to leave for work. She didn’t stick around to hear any further comments regarding how she was wasting her talents and time on odd jobs and women. She’d heard it all before, and she finished the lecture in her mind as she drove to the club.

  Of all the jobs Tara had ever had, the one she held on to was her bartender position at The Lamb. It was the one that her parents hated the most. They had often told her that being employed as a bartender at a nightclub was not something they believed to be a reputable position for someone of her status. They would have much preferred that she live solely off her trust fund than serve mixed drinks and beer to rowdy bar patrons. But Tara needed more than that, and being behind the bar gave her a small sense of freedom and individuality that she lacked in the other areas of her life. It wasn’t a job she saw herself in forever. Mostly because she didn’t see herself finding any one thing that could hold her attention for that long. The idea of choosing one path, one job, or even one woman filled her with a sense of permanence that she knew would suffocate her.

  Tara slipped past the bouncer at the door and patted him on the shoulder in greeting. The smell of stale beer and wet mops hit her like a brick, and she smiled. “You have problems, Tara,” she said to no one in particular. It was going to be a good night; she already felt it. And if she was lucky she would end her night with a gorgeous and willing woman on her arm. Fingers crossed.

  As soon as the doors opened, she had no shortage of eligible and interested ladies lined up at her end of the bar, and it would stay that way all night. Tara could work any crowd she was in, whether it was at a ballet fundraising gala or a two-for-one ladies’ night. The one difference between the two was the location. She knew everyone and everyone knew her, or at least they knew as much as she wanted them to. That was the freedom she got from being the mysterious bartender with no commitments and pretty good drinks.

  Chapter Four

  Belle waited in the short line to get into the club. Standing alone in a line of people who all knew each other was awkward. It was something Belle hated, but it was the price she always paid when she insisted on driving herself. On the other hand, having the ability to leave whenever she wanted gave her a sense of contentment in an otherwise nerve-wracking environment. She got her wristband from the doorman and slipped inside.

  It wasn’t hard to spot the tables that Kyle, Andrew, and all his friends hovered around. When Andrew saw her he smiled and waved. He met her halfway. “Isn’t this place great?” He wrapped her in a hug and kissed her cheek.

  Belle looked around the bar. “It’s something.” The music was loud and the bass thumped in her chest. It was an awkward, yet invigorating feeling, and she welcomed it. The room was filled with hundreds of people split into their own island groups throughout the club. Some stood, some danced, and some sat, but not often did two of the cliques intersect. There might have been a stray that could flit between two or more groups, but for the most part the islands floated alone. Belle had to wonder how anyone ever met anyone, especially a potential partner, in such an environment. The odds weren’t much better than expecting a Papa John’s driver to deliver true love with a large pepperoni pizza.

  Andrew led Belle over to the rest of the group and introduced her to the one person she didn’t recognize. Hazel, a tall, slender woman with fire-red hair, shook Belle’s hand that she held out in greeting. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” Hazel said with a slight accent that she couldn’t quite place. Belle didn’t have a chance to ask before Hazel’s attention was drawn to an attractive group of women that passed by.

  Belle was a little rebuffed by Hazel’s action, but she wasn’t surprised. She was there for reasons beyond socializing with Belle. Belle couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take for the gorgeous woman to find what she sought. When a handsome woman approached and offered her a martini, Belle had her answer. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever been hit on, probably because there wasn’t a single time in her recollection that she had been. Belle wouldn’t have even known what to do if she had been approached by a random woman and offered a drink. She was a mix of both thankful and disappointed at the lack of such an experience.

  She was intrigued by Hazel’s confident interaction with the potential suitor. When Hazel thanked the woman for the drink and dismissed her, Belle couldn’t help but ask, “Not your type?”

  Hazel giggled. “Let’s just say that if I were interested, I’d have let her know long before she ever realized she wanted it.”

  Belle was floored. “Wow. Well, I imagine no one’s ever accused you of not knowing what you want.”

  “No. They haven’t.” Hazel winked and sipped on her free drink.

  Belle wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had told her that her mouth was agape. It wasn’t, but she was most shocked by the woman’s arrogance and a tiny bit impressed by her brash confidence. Belle looked over at Kyle and Andrew with a silent plea to be rescued. They both laughed at Belle’s distress before Kyle made his way over.

  “How’s it going, ladies?” Kyle asked.

  “Good. Hazel and I were just discussing the finer points of the dating game.” Belle’s voice oozed sarcasm, but Hazel was too busy prowling for her next drink to notice.

  “She is very—” Kyle began to say before Belle interrupted him.

  “Voracious? Arrogant?” Belle offered.

  “I was going to say abrupt.”

  “Of course you were.” Belle and Kyle laughed. “I need a drink.”

  “I was just headed over to the bar.” Kyle motioned behind him, and that’s when Belle saw her. It was the woman from the ballet, the one that took her almost three entire days to get out of her mind. And even then, parts of her lingered in Belle’s memory.

  “Oh, shit. What is she doing here?” Belle grabbed Kyle’s shoulders and lined him up between her and the bar.

  “What is who doing here?” Kyle attempted to turn around to see what had Belle on edge, but she jerked at him.

  “No. Don’t turn around.”

  “What the hell?” He shrugged her off and looked behind him. “Is that…?”

  “Yes. It’s the girl from the ballet. Stop staring.” Belle turned around so that her back faced the bar and the woman who stood behind it. She wore a tight black tank tucked into a pair of low-slung jeans. Her hair was smoothed back and tucked casually behind her ears where its medium length brushed against her long neck.

  “Why are you hiding from her? There are a hundred people in here. You’d have to be standing right in front of her for her to see you. And that’s not a bad thing, sweetie. She is hot!”

  Belle knew exactly how gorgeous the woman was. She didn’t need Kyle to point that out to her. “She is. I’m n—”

  Kyle stopped her in mid-sentence. “Don’t even say it. That’s bullshit and you know it.”

  “Kyle, she would never—” Belle started to say before he cut her off again.

  “I’m going to the bar to get drinks. Co
me with me.” He grabbed her arm, but she pulled it back.

  “No way. I’m quite content waiting right here with Hazel.” Belle stepped back over to where Hazel had just reeled in another woman.

  “Really?” But Kyle knew there was no way Belle would go with him. “Okay. Maybe I’ll bring her back with me.”

  Fear flashed through Belle. “Don’t you dare.” She was serious, but she also knew that Kyle was joking, sort of. “Please don’t,” she begged.

  “Oh, sweetie. I’m kidding. I would never do that to you. What would you like to drink?” He rubbed her arm in comfort.

  “A sunrise and a shot of Patron.” She needed more than that to slow her racing heart, but it was a start.

  Belle watched Kyle cross the room. He waited at the bar for the woman to take his order. She greeted him with the most dashing smile Belle had ever seen and her stomach fluttered. A voice in her ear startled her, and she jumped.

  *

  Tara leaned over the bar and kissed one of her regulars on the cheek, when over his shoulder, she recognized a familiar face. It wasn’t just any usual face she would have expected to see that night. It was the woman in red she’d seen at the Arts Center. Once again, out of the hundreds of people in the room, Tara was instinctively drawn to her. She wore a low-cut blue blouse and jeans with her long, dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Tara would have kept staring if not for the customer who appeared between them. Tara blinked the woman into focus. “What can I get you?” Tara said.

  “Vodka tonic,” the woman replied with a sly grin, but Tara didn’t notice.

  “Sure.” Tara mixed the drink, slid it across the counter, and took the cash that the woman held out. “Change?”

  The woman’s face expressed a disappointment at the impersonal service she was not used to. “No. But—”

  “Thanks.” Tara turned toward the register. When she turned back, neither the bar customer nor the woman across the room were still there. Before Tara could scan the room for her, another customer was in front of her.