Free Strawberry Wine by Kristy Phillips Page A

sitting behind a counter with a corrugated metal façade. “Hello,” She chimed in greeting. “Welcome to Black Goat Gallery. I’m Emiline. Please let me know if I can be of any assistance.”
    Alli took in a large canvass and a free standing sculpture as she approached Emiline. “Yes, hello. I was wondering if Mr. Ogden was available?”
    As Alli reached the counter, Emiline’s eyes lit up with sudden recognition. “Oh! Of course! He’s in his studio. I’ll go get him! Please make yourself comfortable.” Emiline scurried around the counter toward a back hallway, then halted and turned back to Alli. “Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?”
    Alli smiled at the girl’s enthusiasm. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
    Emiline nodded and continued down the hallway. Alli watched her leave, then turned her attention to a group of black and white photographs arranged on a near wall. She quickly disregarded them and moved on to a painting. It was a nude of a woman. The perspective was unusual. The painter had set the scene so you as the viewer were peering over the woman’s shoulder. She had a delicate neck, and a gentle roundness to her shoulder as if she were slouching the slightest bit. Her dark hair was swept over her other shoulder, but small tendrils curled down in places at the nape of her neck.
    Alli’s heart started to beat a little bit faster. The artist’s style - there was no denying the familiarity. She tried to calm herself with a deep breath. She could be wrong. It was very likely that she was wrong. Her fingers shook as she ran them along the slope of the painted woman’s shoulder, careful not to touch the canvass. “No.” She whispered to herself. “I’m not wrong. I’ve found you.”
    * * * * *
    “Jason!” Emiline knocked unnecessarily on Jason’s open studio door. “There’s a woman here to see you.” She was out of breath from having sprinted up the two flights of stairs.
    Jason eyed Emiline speculatively. He was confused by her giddy delivery of such mundane news. “Oh? Did she give her name?” He asked.
    Emiline looked nonplused. “I didn’t think to ask, sir, but she obviously knows you.” She gestured vaguely toward Jason’s canvass rack.
    “Hmm. It must be Laurel. She said she might stop by today. You can show her up, please, Emiline.” Emiline nodded rapidly. “Yes sir. Right away.” She paused for a beat, then, “Is she here to sit for you sir? Should I get her a robe?”
    Jason was thrown by the odd question. “Uh, no. That wont be necessary. Just show her up. Thank you, Emiline.”
    Emiline disappeared as rapidly as she had come.
    Jason began rinsing his brushes and didn’t hear Alli come in over the sound of rushing water in the sink.
    Alli’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He had the same broad shoulders and well muscled back that she remembered. Her knees began to quiver uncontrollably and she prayed she’d have the strength to remain upright. She stood in the doorway, waiting for him to turn around, her heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears.
    Jason finished rinsing his brushes and deposited them in a ceramic mug. Taking the mug, he turned to place it near his easel when he caught sight of Alli. He stopped mid-turn.
    Alli had to remind herself to breathe. She was grabbing tightly to the strap of her purse in an effort to control her shaking. She was startled by the loud shattering sound of the mug Jason had been holding. He didn’t even look down at the ceramic shards and scattered brushes at his feet. His expression had gone blank. She could see his throat working, but otherwise he gave no indication of what he was feeling.
    Finally Alli spoke. “‘Ogden’, huh?”
    Jason nodded and cleared his throat. “It is-” He cleared his throat again. “It is my mother’s maiden name.”
    “Oh.”
    “I was starting a business. I couldn’t very well keep the name Taylor. Google is a cruel mistress.”
    Tears pooled in Alli’s eyes,