Across the room, he caught her eye and winked. She gave him a quick little thumbs-up, a grin spreading across her face as she continued to chat with someone who’d shown up from the newspaper in Raleigh, an old contact she’d told him was coming as a favor to her. He figured there must be a lot of old contacts who owed her favors because there were TV cameras all over the place and reporters were interviewing the artists in a sort of controlled chaos that she’d orchestrated.
Wade had told her to concentrate on giving the other artists all the attention tonight, but he realized she was heading his way now with a photographer in tow.
“Glenn, I want you to meet Wade Johnson. Not only is he the founder of this gallery along with me, but these amazing carvings are his works. Glenn’s here from Asheville, Wade.”
“Stunning,” Glenn said, his attention immediately drawn to the carvings of coastal birds in Wade’s studio. “This one looks as if it’s about to take off in flight. I know of some shops back home that would love to carry your work.”
“Not just yet,” Gabi said, a possessive tone in her voice. “For now, he and his work are all mine.”
Glenn laughed and immediately backed off. “Okay, then.” He turned to Wade. “Trust her. She knows what she’s doing. She’ll make you a force in the art world.”
He took a few photographs of Wade at work, then wandered off. Wade tucked an arm around Gabi’s shoulders. “What if I don’t want to be a force in the art world?”
“I don’t think you’re going to have much choice. Your works are going to make you a star.”
“I could be some private recluse,” he said. “Just imagine the PR mystique.”
“It’s going to be hard to maintain that and have a studio right here in plain sight,” she reminded him. “Besides, you’re way too cute to be a recluse.”
“And you don’t mind sharing me?” he asked, a little disappointed by her willingness to do just that.
“It’s your talent I’ll be sharing,” she told him firmly. “Never you. I thought I’d made that clear.”
“That’s better, then.” He rubbed a thumb across her cheek. “Are you happy, Gabriella? You look happy.”
“I am,” she said. “Pulling this together, working with you—it’s been amazing.”
“But the hard work is behind you,” he said. “Are you going to be bored from here on out?”
“Are you kidding me? The hard work is just getting started. Sure, we’ve created early buzz and all this attention tonight is incredible, but the key is to keep finding new angles to promote, to keep this place out there with fresh new artists and innovative ideas. A great opening is just the beginning.”
He smiled at her enthusiasm. “And you already have some of these innovative ideas, I’ll bet.”
“Absolutely. Why do you think I didn’t mention the guest artist program in the early press releases? That’s another stage. And then we’ll have classes. That’s another campaign. And maybe an annual Christmas in July event. Or a red-white-and-blue event for the Fourth of July. I was in a store once that did that. It got people looking closely at everything.”
He regarded her blankly. “Why?”
“Okay, let’s talk about a painting. If the customer can find a hint of red in it—or of just white or blue—they’d get a ten percent discount. If they find two of those colors, it’s twenty percent off, and thirty percent if they find all three colors in that same painting. Believe me, people study the details. And when people look that closely and are assured of the best discount, they buy.”
“I’m not sure that’s going to do much for my wood carvings,” Wade said, though he was impressed by the clever concept.
“Which is why you put colorful tags on them,” she said. “Maybe you create an all-blue logo for some or a red-white-and-blue tag for something you really want to move that weekend. You can be as stingy or as generous as you want to be. You’ll see. It’s going to be fun.”
“I trust you,” he said. “Now, how are you feeling?”
“I feel incredible,” she said, though there was an unmistakable weariness in her eyes.
“How about ten minutes off your feet and a plate of the excellent hors d’oeuvres that Jerry made?”
“I should be circulating,” she protested. “I want to be sure all these media people get the interviews they need.”
“I’ve never seen a more contented roomful of media types,” Wade told her. “Look around. They can spare you for a few minutes.”
She glanced around, then nodded. “Sitting down would feel good.”
Wade settled her on a chair in her office, then went for the food and a glass of the nonalcoholic champagne he’d made sure they had on hand for her and anyone else who preferred it. He ran into Cora Jane, who was overseeing the buffet table.
“How’s our girl doing?” she asked. “She’s been moving so fast, she reminds me of those hummingbirds that hover for an instant, then move on to hover over something else.”
“Dead on her feet, but exhilarated,” he told her. “I’ve persuaded her to sit down in her office for a few minutes. Can you put together a plate for her, while I pour her some of the fake bubbly?”
“Of course I will,” Cora Jane said.
When Wade returned from the small kitchen they’d put in for a communal lunch area, Cora Jane had piled tiny sandwiches on a plate along with small key lime and cherry tarts.
“This is a hungry crowd,” she told him. “It’s a good thing we’re winding down. The food’s almost gone. If the show’s been half as big a hit as Jerry’s appetizers, I’d say this place is going to be a huge success.”
“Once your granddaughter seizes on an idea and runs with it,
