Stroke of Love

Chapter 4: A Glimmer of Hope

Karen complimented Jay on his art skills once she was in the car- a spacious Bentley.

"I did take a couple of classes in college."

"You must have had the eyes for it long before then, though."

"I must have."

Karen knew that Jay Madison owned two art galleries. She had heard of him long before he'd handed over his business card. Her dismay then had been considerably dulled by the drugs she'd received. She wasn't sure if he knew she knew of him. Who in New England hadn't heard of Madison Gallery?

He drove efficiently, she noted, observing road signs, moving not too slow or too fast. There were no jerking motions between gear shifts either. Karen hated those. She also supposed the kind of car had something to do with the comfort of the ride... Bentleys were very comfortable cars.

"If I'd known you'd be judging my driving skills, I might not have offered to pick you up," she heard him say mildly.

She blushed and looked out her window briefly. "Am I that obvious?"

"You're practically holding your breath right now in case I run someone else over."

"I'm so sorry. I guess it's because we met under strange circumstances and I hardly know you, I'm sort of on edge... but you drive very well."

He chuckled. "Thank you." Pause. "I understand that we met in less than normal conditions, Karen. You can treat me like a landlord if you like."

It was her turn to laugh. "It wouldn't work. Now that I know who you are, I am dying to see your legendary art collection!" Pause. "And my agent will probably insist on you seeing my artwork and then I'll be trying to become one of your contributing artists."

"I wouldn't show any old tenant my art," he chuckled, "I didn't know art teachers had agents."

"Haha. Mine isn't the conventional agent either." She paused. "Teaching is just a pastime."

When she didn't elaborate, he asked whether her work was being displayed anywhere at the moment. At the same time, he turned into the cul-de-sac where his house was.

"Yes, I've a few pieces at Basil Carter Gallery."

The two owners were rumoured to be rivals, so Karen actually gave up the information reluctantly.

All he said in response was, "Ah."

But maybe that was because they'd pulled up in front of his house.

"Bienvenu. Welcome to my humble home," he said as he opened the passenger door for her.

"Thank you," she said, looking up at his house.

His 'humble' abode was a three storey Georgian mansion. Large windows dominated the pretty face of the house and Karen could only imagine what the daylight did to the rooms.

It was, however, already dark so after opening her car door for her, Jay walked up to the front door and unlocked it and Karen followed him promptly.

The lobby was attractive. The walls were wallpapered gold and burnt orange. There was a pier table with a notepad and pen on it, its half circle shape pushed against the wall underneath an ornamental mirror.

Over the rich oak floor was an ivory rug with orange lines running through it. There was a tall lamp at the base of the staircase- its bronze shade was the faces of Tragedy and Comedy.

The first door to her left was a study, he told her, the next doorway opened into a spacious living room. The breakfast nook and vast kitchen came next. Round the other end of the house was the dining room adjacent to the music room cum drawing room. Once out of the drawing room, one found oneself at the base of the broad staircase, under which there was a guest loo, as Jay called it.