a narrator ready to explain, so I don’t know if it’s good or bad.”
“It’s good, Taylor, very good. You have a way of making me care about this woman. It’s like she’s embroiled in a series of heartbreaks and pain that’s going toward . . .” He paused, tapping his finger against his chin as he studied the paintings again. “Not happiness. I wonder if she can get there. Maybe self-peace?”
Relief flooded through her. Oh God, he understood! Her subconscious had been obsessed with a woman who haunted her dreams. She saw her everywhere—on the cliffs, on the beach, on the road, in the kitchen. But there was pain and brokenness and a restlessness that made Taylor wonder if she could ever find peace. She hoped the last paintings would reveal some type of closure to the woman’s journey, but Taylor had no idea how they would turn out. She never knew until she began painting.
Pierce had spent the entire time in the background, quietly reflective. She waited for him to speak, but he just kept gazing at her work, his expression hard to read. He owned one painting from the series that she’d painted a while ago and then had given to him for his office. Unease trickled. Did he not like them? She figured he’d be the most vocal, since he was usually so supportive.
She refused to prod, turning her attention back to Carter. “What about the other two?”
“Something’s missing.”
Taylor stiffened. Her gaze swept over the last ones she’d been working on. Dammit, she’d sensed something was off, and now Carter had confirmed it. “Yeah, that’s why I wanted you to look at them before I moved on. Do you know what it is?”
“Emotion,” Pierce said suddenly.
She tilted her head and stared in surprise. “Really? These two were focusing on heartbreak. I figured I’d nailed that part.”
The paintings were a dual set in black and white. In the first canvas, the woman was dressed in an evening gown, her silhouette in the doorway while she watched from across the room as a man and woman danced. The inside of the ballroom was in color, and the background faded to shadow. In the second, she was framed in the bedroom watching the couple make love. A silent, pained voyeur, frozen in time.
Carter made a noise in the back of his throat. “Interesting assessment. Technically, it’s a visual feast. But there’s something on her face that doesn’t resonate with the rest. Her expression is . . . lacking.”
She squinted and analyzed each feature of the woman’s face. Taylor had tried to evoke the agony of losing the one you loved, but apparently it hadn’t hit. Was she missing something basic? Was it a technical issue or something deeper? She’d been blocked for a while and hoped she’d pushed through, but obviously she’d failed.
“It looks forced,” Pierce said. Regret flickered in his eyes. “Not as true as the others.”
“No matter,” Carter said, swiping his hands together. “You’re right on track. Play a bit with these two and see if you can tweak them. You should have no trouble getting the others done in time—remember, I need them shipped by the end of next month. You’re taking the one from Pierce’s office, right?”
Pierce laughed. “She can borrow it for the big art show, but I hope it doesn’t sell. I’ve gotten attached.”
“Hmm, you’ll need to pay her a hell of a lot more, then.”
“It was a gift!”
Carter threw up his hands. “I’m not her manager, but Luis may insist she sell it with the set and paint you a new one.”
Taylor pushed her disappointment away and reminded herself she still had a solid foundation. She needed to paint two more pieces to finish the Woman and the Cliff series. Then she’d go back to these and see if she could figure out what had gone wrong. She wouldn’t rest until she knew they were perfect. “Don’t worry, I’ll paint you another naked woman as a replacement.”
Pierce gave a snort.
“What happened to your eye, man?” Carter asked. “Looks wicked.”
“I walked into a door.”
Carter turned to her with a questioning look, clearly not buying it.
“Pierce was defending my honor from an overeager admirer. He got caught in a surprise attack.”
Pierce glared at her. “I thought we were keeping that to ourselves.”
“Carter’s family. He doesn’t care.”
“No shit?” Carter asked. “I haven’t gotten into a fight in a long time. Who won?”
“Pierce did,” Taylor said.
“Actually, Taylor did,” Pierce muttered. “Kicked him in the balls and took