The Art of Love

  Quint Emm Ellis

  Copyright © [Year of First Publication] by [Author or Pen Name]

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

  Independently published

  Cover Design Assembled by:

  Quint Emm Ellis

  Contents

  <3

  Also By This Author

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 2

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Epilogue

  Join the Journey!

  About the Author

  I love witnessing caring, mature, mutually respectful relationships develop between compassionate men and women; and I appreciate relating to the many frailties and burdens that both will bring to the table. If you do, too, join me on this journey as I continue to explore that remarkable dynamic.

  Click here to Join the Journey

  Also By This Author

  Books by Quint Emm Ellis

  The Bonfire Circle Series

  Whatever it Takes

  Bound to Love

  Tender & Kindling

  The Sisterhood of the Tiny House Revolution Series

  The Dream & The Real Thing

  Letting Loose & Letting Love

  For Better & For Worse

  I Was Blind and Now I See

  The Books of Love Series

  The Sum of Love

  The Art of Love

  A Taste of Love

  The Gift of Love (coming soon)

  Chapter 1

  Collin sighed as he placed his phone, face down, on his desk. Indulging in a moment of self-pity he planted his face in the palms of his hands, massaging the muscles in his cheeks and temples before dropping his hands to his lap and allowing himself to fall backwards into the cushioned support of his office chair. He released one last gust of air before inhaling deeply through his nose.

  Eyelids closed, he allowed the silence of his empty store to calm him for the duration of a few quieting breaths. Finally, he leaned forward and reclaimed his phone, looking up the number for his girlfriend.

  “Hey Jules. How are you? I’m good. Well, actually, not so good. Just got word that my lead for the night is going to be out on leave for while. Came down with Covid while on vacation, so he’s isolating for a couple of weeks. Yeah, it’s unfortunate; the only good part is that at least no other staff or customers were put at risk. Still, he needs to take care of himself. But, no one else is available to take his place tonight—and that’s on top of the crew members who resigned as of a couple days ago to prepare to move back home for summer break. So, we’re going to be severely short-handed tonight.” He nodded as she responded.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry to have to postpone our dinner plans, again. I don’t know what else to do, though; it’s part of owning a small business. I’ll make it up to you, somehow. Yeah, I know I always say that. But I always mean it.” He sighed, “Yeah, yeah okay. Could you call to cancel our reservations? Well, because I have to get prepared for the evening. I know this is my fault, I just need a little help—nevermind. I’ll call. And uh. Yeah. Alright, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Collin didn’t know what he dreaded most; the stressful night ahead or the tension he’d encounter upon meeting up with Julie tomorrow.

  A groan escaped him as he allowed his head to rest against the back of his chair, once more. Sucking in a deep breath, he held it for a moment before releasing it and the stress mounting upon his shoulders.

  The store. The relationship. Both required his attention for them to work. And…maybe he just wasn’t capable of juggling both, right now.

  Maybe he and Julie needed to talk.

  The empty seat beside her continued to nag at Everleigh’s senses. It was almost like the more she attempted to ignore it the more room the vacant space occupied in her mind—the space that her online date should be occupying at that very moment.

  She wondered at his absence; wondered what he’d decided was a better use of his evening.

  Or maybe…

  Maybe he’d gotten into a car wreck, like in that classic romantic film featuring Cary Grant. And even now, her date was in a coma. Or maybe he’d lost his car keys. And his phone. And he was lamenting over the loss of never having met the woman with whom he’d connected online.

  Everleigh’s lips tightened as she dismissed the romantic straws her mind was desperately grasping onto. With a roll of her eyes that lasted as long as a blink, she admitted the truth to herself.

  As sure as the painting in front of her was ugly as sin, she’d been stood up. Plain and simple.

  Welcome to singlehood.

  Despite the fact that her last relationship had been rather lackluster, she’d mourned its loss. She’d found a man who’d sincerely shared her Christian values, including fighting to remain abstinent before marriage. Though, part of the problem was that it hadn’t been much of a fight for either of them.

  But they’d been together so long.

  And they'd been comfortable together.

  Was ‘comfort’ really so bad?

  Sure enough, just months after her ex had called it quits, his facebook page announced a wedding engagement to a woman he’d met just a few weeks prior.

  A few. Weeks. Prior.

  And Everleigh had stared and stared…and stared at engagement photos plastered all over his Facebook and Instagram profiles. She’d wondered at the man in the pictures, whom she barely recognized; a man she’d never had the honor of viewing throughout his and her romance.

  A man in love.

  What was worse is that Everleigh had been happy for him; even while she’d been thrown into months of depression.

  What was wrong with her? Was she just unloveable? Was she incapable of, truly, loving another outside of her family?

  It’d taken months to rebuild, but over time Everleigh had finally felt ready to tackle the ominous specter that loomed over any potential relationships.

  And yet…the stream of disappointing online dates she’d experienced was telling her otherwise.

  This latest dud was a guy with whom she’d been exchanging messages and facetime sessions. He’d suggested this Brush Strokes & Beverages event for their first in-person meeting.

  Initially, Everleigh had been thrilled and impressed with his creativity. But, now, she suspected this was the guy’s go-to suggestion for dates, just for that reason.

  The fact that he’d asked her to make the reservations probably should have been a small red flag about his commitment to said outing.

  Shaking her head at herself, Everleigh turned her attention away from her thoughts. Looking to her left, she spotted the evening’s instructor guiding participants, such as herself, through step-by-step instructions on how to recreate that evening’s selected portrait.

  As the instructor spoke, Everleigh’s attention wandered over to the most notable aspects of the event: the full bar bearing both alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

  What Everleigh wouldn’t do for something strong and warm, right then. But her being a lightweight and driving herself home tonight, probably meant that wasn’t a good idea.

  Her eyes skipped around until they found what she was looking for. She recalled from the website that, on some occasions, the facility would offer delicious dishes that could be ordered and delivered right to your table so that you could paint, sip and dine all in one fun night. On other nights, such as this evening, a well-stocked, self-serve snack bar was available.

  Maybe she should grab one of those chocolate chunk cookies that were tempting her with a ‘come hither and partake of my calories’ look. She needed to do something with her hands other than continue work on the disaster she was calling a portrait. Besides, she needed to treat herself. Obviously, she’d be the only one doing that for a while.

  “How are things going here?” came the perky voice just to her right, as one of the event’s attendants lightly placed a hand on the empty seat that sat there, mocking her. Leaning towards Everleigh’s canvas, the assistant nodded, wisps of her blonde hair falling from her high bun. “Looks like you’re running a little low on clean water to rinse your brush off with, let me change out that water for you.”

  Everleigh smiled her gratitude to the young woman who returned the grin before dashing away to exchange the cup. With the small crew that was on the floor being pulled in multiple directions, Everleigh had to congratulate them on their ability to remain congenial and attentive to the crowd of, at least, twenty or so patrons. And she would have done just that, had she not been so embarrassed at the predicament that she was now facing; being abandoned and left alone to deal with a painting of her own making that was already portending its own doom.

  She tried to skirt around the niggling thought that the painting was a sign. That the whole night was a premonition. But it was no use. The comparison to the future of her romantic life took root.

  No, she determined. Only the Lord truly knows what the future holds for us all, Everleigh reminded herself. Trust in Him to define it, not your insecurities. Not your past. Not someone else’s tainted opinions; not even your own. Let Him be God, Everleigh. Don’t assume that job for yourself.

  With her dipping water being removed, Everleigh had an excuse to sit and actually take note of her surroundings. She’d been so wracked with
nerves about the night that she’d only barely absorbed the room’s arrangement. Pushing her glasses up the ridge of her nose, she took in the scene. Warm lights glowed along the wall, softening the lights above, which helped the room of novice artists clearly view their progress. The dark, wood benches on which they sat matched the tables, whose surfaces gleamed under the thick, translucent plastic covering that protected them from stray paint. Everleigh imagined that the room must be quite beautiful when the tables had an opportunity to shine without being folded in giant seran wrap.

  Looking at her dilapidated painting, she inhaled deeply and let the breath flow out of her, along with her negativity.

  She would make the best of this evening. Of this painting. And by God, she would freakin’ love her singlehood, if it killed her. Because, she was done with this online dating nonsense.

  She swiped up her phone and uninstalled all of its three dating apps. Her gaze returned to her portrait as she returned the phone to the table with a decisive thud.

  If, and when, the Lord wanted something different for her, then He sure enough better make it plain and simple. As plain and simple as the fact that she’d been ghosted.

  Taking her eyes from her painting, Everleigh caught sight of the attendant who’d approached her earlier as the young staff member made her way from the backroom, a cup of clean water in hand.

  “Oh, finally, just what I needed!” came the voice of a woman seated at a table near the attendant. As the assistant continued past her, the patron's voice increased in volume. “Miss, Miss! I could really use that water, Hon,” the woman insisted, waving a hand. As she gestured toward the staff member, light glinted off the smooth, slicked down sides of her short cropped brunette hair, and skipped along the bed of gelled curls that stood stiffly upon the crown of her head.

  The attendant halted in mid-stride, careful not to spill the water that threatened to spill over the lip of the cup. She craned her neck to acknowledge the customer. “Oh, of course. I’ll be right there, Ma'am. This is for another customer. I’ll be back with yours asap.”

  “Well, since you’re right here, I don’t see why you can’t just give me that one and go grab another cup?” she asked, chuckling emptily as she turned toward a woman who sat beside her. “Or do I have to do it myself,” she asked her neighbor, loudly.

  “I apologize for the delay Ma’am.” the attendant responded, hurriedly. “I’ll be right back. For sure.”

  “For sure,” the woman mocked, dismissing the young attendant with a wave as she continued her conversation with her seated neighbor. “This is the worst paint event I’ve been to. I mean, why would you have just a handful of people? Just a minute ago they only had three people out here and now there’s just two!” she continued in a loud volume.

  Everleigh rolled her eyes and before she knew it, she found herself standing. Not being the confrontational type, all she’d intended to do was meet the young attendant halfway and retrieve the cup, freeing the attendant to serve the other woman.

  What she found herself doing is retrieving the cup, smiling politely at the attendant, and continuing forward to set the cup down beside the complaining woman. It’d taken a great deal of patience to avoid passively-aggressively sloshing the water across the woman.

  But if she was going to show her annoyance, she’d rather be upfront with it.

  Turning, Everleigh addressed the attendant. “You’re doing a great job,” she assured her. “Is your manager here? It’s apparent you all are short-staffed.” She paused, allowing her silence to punctuate her words. “So instead of being a hindrance, how can I help?” She finished with a shrug. “I’m available.”

  The young woman’s jaw went slack and her skin, a shade of egg-shell, grew pale. “I-uh–he was out here. He-he went in the back to check on something, I think?” she finished in a squeak as she pointed to the door she’d just exited.

  Everleigh nodded and screwed up her courage as she submitted herself to the line of action her mouth had committed herself to. Shaking her head, she wondered at her ability to talk herself into trouble.

  Walking to the threshold, she knocked on the door before cracking it open.

  To her left she saw a desk with no one seated at it.

  Slowly, she crept the door open before gingerly making her way into the compact backroom, noting the rack of aprons that hung neatly by the door.

  She continued her foray deeper within, fascinated by the shelves of painting materials organized along the perimeter, neatly and meticulously labeled. The two large aluminum sinks whose surfaces gleamed. Though they, like the clean, linoleum floor upon which she walked, bore scattered multi-colored streaks and dots; the reminder of old paint.

  In front of her, was the closed door to the facility’s sole bathroom. And as she neared it she could hear the sound of sloshing water and grunts.

  Eyes widening, her mouth formed an “O” as she began to quietly tip-toe her way back the way she’d arrived. She was just a few feet away from her point of escape when the sound of the toilet flushing reached her ears. The clang clang of the paper towel dispenser being used soon followed. Just as she was about to jerk the door open to make her escape, she heard the click of the bathroom door as it opened behind her.

  “Oh, Uhm. Can I help you?” came the baritone voice behind her.

  She spun around, shaking her head as she watched the man before her wipe his damp hands with brown, paper towels.

  “Nothing. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Her voice trailed off, and she was unsure if the heat in her cheeks were due to the situation or caused by the gorgeous man who regarded her.

  His brows rose, then, and he gestured to the bathroom. “Oh, no. It was…someone had clogged the toilet. And I just needed to take care of it. It wasn’t…I wasn’t…”

  “Right,” she nodded, in agreement. “Of course.” Someone.

  The corner of his lips twitched. “Comes with the territory of being the owner. Sometimes you’re also the plumber, the accountant, and the janitor, among other things. Now,” he said, twisting his upper body around to throw the wadded paper towels into the trash can in the bathroom.

  Turning back to face her, he rested his hands upon his narrow waist and graced her with a genuine grin. “How can I help you? Were you waiting for the ladies’ room?”

  “No, no. Actually, I was here to offer you some help.”

  Shifting his weight to one side, he regarded her, his thick, brunette eyebrows dipping as his brow knit together.

  “I just noticed that you were short-staffed. At least that’s what it looked like. And I figured I could chip in. You know, fill water cups.” She chuckled. “It’s not like my painting is going to get any better no matter how much time I have left, tonight. So I can help,” she finished with a small smile.

  Collin’s expression relaxed, an even wider and warmer version of his grin emerging like a dawning sun. In response, Everleigh felt her own reservations melting.

  How in the world had she missed this man on the floor with his staff?

  “Well, this is a first, I gotta say,” he said, walking toward her. “A really kind ‘first’.” He stopped a few feet away from her, pausing as his eyes traveled across her coffee colored skin to visit every feature on her face, from her bespectacled eyes to her round cheeks, full lips and petite chin.

  Looking away, he took a step toward her, not missing her sharp intake of breath as he did so. Reaching past her, he lifted an apron from the rack and looped the paint-stained frock around his neck before fastening its waist ties behind his back.

  Stepping backwards, he found himself staring again before finally clearing his throat. “I really appreciate that, Miss…”

  “Everleigh,” she offered.

  He grinned. “Everleigh. That’s a beautiful name.”

  “I like it,” she responded, honestly, matching his smile.

  He blinked, feeling a little silly in face of the silence that followed. Breaking eye contact, he pointed his smile downward. And Everleigh found she could breathe again…that is until he swung his crystal blue gaze back to meet hers.