Chapter Two

 “Lizzie, it's a Gustave Loiseau,” Jane gasped, her hand to her mouth as she stared in wonder at lot number 327 of the auction. A lovely seascape hung on the wall. I could almost smell the warm sea air coming from the white sandy cliffs.

"It's very nice," I told her. I had no idea who the artist was, but Jane he impressed Jane. Art was her thing, not mine, but I could see the love in her eyes for the small painting. It was more than just something lovely to look at for her. It was an expression of life itself.

“Are you sure I can't borrow twenty thousand dollars?” Jane asked, not taking her eyes from the painting. “This would look amazing in our living room.”

"I have twenty dollars, and I'll buy you a print," I told her with a gentle smile. "Because you are right. It would look amazing in the living room."

Jane sighed and kept staring at the painting. Paintings, specifically old French ones, were her passion. When she wasn't working at her painting restoration job at the museum, she volunteered at the New York Met and taught art classes to children on the side. I wished I had the funds to purchase something like this for her. She would be one of the few people in the world to really appreciate it.

“There's a Monet over there,” I told her, pointing to the next auction lot.

“Oh, I need to be rich,” she murmured, her eyes lighting up as she moved to the next painting. “It's so perfect.”

I chuckled and followed behind her as she joined a man inspecting the small painting. I paused to check the price tag on the Loiseau just in case. It was so far out of my price range that just looking at it hurt. The only way I would ever get Jane nice art was at the art museum gift shop.

“Look at the way he captures the light and the movement of the water,” Jane said to the man, thinking he was me. Her hand moved through the air to demonstrate.

“The individual brush strokes are so beautiful,” the man replied, motioning to the painting. He looked to be about the same age as Jane. “Precise, and yet imperfect.”

Jane's eyes lit up as she turned to the man. “Yes! That's what makes a Monet a Monet. He was the first to use this style.”

The man grinned at her, thrilled at finding a kindred soul. “What do you think about his use of color in his later paintings?”

That's when I carefully turned away. If he was going to ask Jane about one of her favorite topics, there was no way I was going to interrupt them. I knew very little about art compared to Jane, so I knew I wouldn't be able to contribute to the conversation anyway.

I wandered the auction a bit longer. There were some things that I was actually interested in. An antique writing journal, some glass earrings, and a massage at a local spa. They weren't bid on yet, so I had a chance to win them. I was considering the journal as a gift for my father. If I could win it, it would make the perfect gift for the upcoming Christmas.

I chewed on my bottom lip as looked into the small box containing the journal. It was leather bound with elegant aging script inside, and the information card stated it was from the eighteenth century. It was definitely something my Georgian Era enthusiast collector of a father would love.

I wanted Jane's opinion on the journal before I bid, though. She knew my father well since we'd grown up together. He'd basically adopted her as one of his own kids after her parents died a few years ago. She would know if it was the right gift.

I found her at the Monet painting still talking with the man from before. Her eyes were bright with excitement, and she had a look I only saw on her face while she was working. It was delighted bliss.

"Lizzie," she called to me as I approached. "I'd like you to meet Charles Bingley. He's an art fan. Charles, this is my roommate, Elizabeth."

The man held out his hand. He was tall and thin with reddish hair and an eager smile. He looked like something out of one of Jane's art books he was so handsome. His handshake was firm yet gentle, and there was a kind sparkle in his eyes.

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” I told him. Something about his name tickled my memory. “Wait, are you the Charles Bingley that just bought those old hotels?”

“Guilty,” he admitted. He glanced around the hotel. “Don't tell the competition I'm here.”

I chuckled, already liking him. “You wouldn't also happen to be renting a penthouse near 96th by any chance, would you?”

"How did you guess?" he asked. His green eyes were surprised but happy. "I only just moved in."

“That's my building,” Jane told him, her smile getting bigger. Her hand fluttered near her necklace with excitement. “You moved into my building.”

Charles grinned wider. “Then I think I made an excellent choice. We can have more discussions about Monet. I'd love to get your perspective on Degas addition to the field.”

Jane grinned and made a small excited noise. She was usually so reserved with her emotions that just that giggle and smile was the equivalent of jumping up and down and whooping with joy.

“If you like art, Jane will talk your ear off,” I told him. “She's a painter herself.”

“What? You didn't tell me that,” Charles said, turning back to Jane.

“I dabble,” she replied with a small shrug. “I restore art. Sometimes, I paint.”

“Painting is my real love, too.” Charles looked at her like he'd won the lottery. He had to shake himself slightly so he could stop staring at her. “Unfortunately, I'm not very good at it yet, so I can't quit my day job.”

"If what I've read is correct, you happen to be very good at your day job," I said, trying to keep the conversation going. If I didn't say something, the two of them were going to just stare and smile at one another. "You own a hotel chain and several nightclubs."

Charles nodded. "Yes. But, I would love just to paint."

"I'd love that, too," Jane told him. She blushed hard. "I mean, someday, I'd like just to paint."

Charles' eyes went back to her, and it was like they were the only two people in the entire room. I could have sworn I heard Cupid's arrow whoosh past me on it's way to the two of them. They both grinned at one another.

“Did you see the Loiseau?” Charles asked Jane.

“I did, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on it,” Jane replied breathlessly. I knew it wasn't just a line. She really did want to hear what he had to say.

I chuckled and took a quiet step back. I was forgotten by the two of them, and I was very okay with that. Jane looked happier than I'd seen in a long time. She looked comfortable walking around with Charles, despite the fact that I knew she didn't like crowds much.

She was lost to her art, and he was right there with her. The crowd didn't matter here.

I watched them for a moment, seeing the attraction between them grow with every word. It was beautiful and incredibly sweet. I could wait to get Jane's opinion on the journal. I didn't want to interrupt her falling in love.

I gave the happy couple one more smile before turning and walking back to the party. I wanted another drink and to see what else the party had to offer. Besides, I needed to check on Lydia and make sure she hadn't terrorized the rich and famous too much.