Page 25 of Finding Forever
“How far away is he?”
Eric sighed. “Too far. He overlooked the clue the killer left in the body he examined.”
“You could change the story. Maybe he reviews the file and sees what he missed the first time?”
“That would be too easy.”
I shrugged. “Sometimes the easiest options are the best. Life doesn’t need to be complicated.”
“Maybe you’re right. Do you want some company while you wait for sunset?”
“That’d be great. Apart from Mom and Jenny, I haven’t spoken to anyone all day.” Most people would find that odd, but Eric knew how much I appreciated having time to concentrate on my paintings.
“Did you get plenty of work done?”
I sat on the log, leaving lots of space for Eric. “I did. The paintings should be ready in time for my exhibition.”
“What will you do when they’re finished?”
“I’m not sure. Lorenzo wants me to return to Italy, but I don’t know if that’s the best place for me.”
Eric frowned. “Who’s Lorenzo?”
“The owner of an art gallery in Venice. He’s organizing my next exhibition.”
There was a moment of silence before Eric asked, “I could be reading this completely wrong. If I am, ignore me, but is he your boyfriend?”
I smiled. “Lorenzo would have a heart attack if anyone thought that. He’s sixty-eight years old, has a wonderful wife and five children. But to answer your question, you haven’t read anything wrong. I’m gay, too.”
Eric wiped his hands on his jeans. “I just wondered…you know…if you’re seeing anyone.”
It wasn’t easy for me to talk about my limited dating experience. Most people assumed I’d slept my way around Europe in some bohemian, artistic kind of way. But the truth was far from what anyone imagined. Having any type of relationship with someone who understood me and my career had been impossible.
“I haven’t dated many people,” I told Eric. “My last boyfriend was annoyed that I spent more time painting than I did with him.”
“Did he see what you were creating?”
I nodded. “We met at one of my exhibitions.”
“He must have known how hard you work before you started dating?”
“He did, but he liked the idea of going out with an artist better than the reality. I have a job that doesn’t always work in with other people’s schedules.”
Eric looked across the lake. “It sounds as though you’re better off without him.”
As I lifted my camera out of the bag, I shrugged. “He had a point, but at the time I was more annoyed than hurt. I painted one of my best landscapes after he left.”
Eric smiled. “Silver linings.”
“Exactly.” I checked my watch. “Sunset is about ten minutes away.”
Stretching out his leg, Eric rubbed his thigh. The day after I first met him, I noticed he was limping. “Have you hurt yourself?”
“It’s an old injury from when I was working in the NYPD. I’ve been writing all day and sitting in one position for too long makes the muscle cramp.”
“Were you shot?”
Eric nodded. “My partner and I were running after a drug dealer. He took exception to being arrested.” He looked at my camera. “I didn’t think anyone used manual cameras anymore.”