On the corner of Duval and Fleming, Anamaría spotted Bellísima in the one-story building with soft yellow siding and white-trimmed windows housing a row of businesses on the opposite side of the street. The gallery’s glass door was already propped open, although the event didn’t officially start for ten more minutes, and a middle-aged couple headed inside.
As they neared the entrance, Anamaría caught site of a two-by-three foot painting canvas propped on a wooden easel in the wide front window. Swooping calligraphy brushstrokes in red paint announced: “Award-winning Local Photographer Alejandro Miranda’s Window to the World Exhibit.”
Next to the painted sign, propped on another wooden art easel, sat an eleven-by-seventeen publicity photo of Alejandro. The full-face shot had been taken mid-laugh, joy plumping his cheeks, his eyes glinting with humor. Behind him, a cobblestone path led between two brick buildings. Sunlight glistened through the narrow pathway, practically beckoning him to follow, see where it might lead.
Anamaría paused in front of the gallery’s window, staring at Alejandro’s image, moved by the happiness captured in that moment. Knowing him and his sense of adventure, always in search of his next great photograph, he would have snapped his picture, then turned to head up the narrow alley. Away from her.
“You ready to go in?” Sara asked. She wrapped an arm around Anamaría’s shoulder, drawing her attention away from the publicity photo.
She read Sara’s real question, You gonna be okay?, in the pinched look around her friend’s blue-green eyes.
“Carlos texted about twenty minutes ago,” Luis said. “He, Gina, and the boys are already inside. I guess Alejandro invited them to come early, so he could show the boys around before things get busy.”
Anamaría nodded, knowing the details already. Ale had asked her if she’d like to join them, but she had a special client in town for the weekend and couldn’t late-cancel on the woman. Plus, heading into Bellísima determined to be happy for Alejandro’s success, without revealing the sorrow eating away at her soul would be a helluva lot easier if she walked in surrounded by reinforcements. Sara and two of her brothers.
“After you, beautiful,” Luis told Sara. He swept an arm toward the entrance for his fiancée to precede him.
“Why, thank you,” Anamaría joked, as she followed Sara inside.
Luis shot her a wink as she passed; then he slid in ahead of Enrique, who murmured, “Age before beauty.”
The familiar adolescent dig had her smiling, and a measure of the tension knotting her belly eased.
Inside, Marcelo and Logan greeted them warmly. The couple handed out half-page layout maps and explained how the various collections were spread throughout the gallery. Having heard the details from Ale already, she listened with half an ear and peered around the early arrivals, noting several of their high school classmates and a group of older women from St. Mary’s. She caught sight of Gina and Carlos deeper into the open space, their boys standing in front of another photograph farther away. But she didn’t see—
Alejandro.
Her pulse raced when she spotted him, looking all panty-melting gorgeous in a tailored suit while talking to Natalia near the office door at the back of the gallery.
With Anamaría’s schedule busier than usual lately and Alejandro’s all-consuming preparations leading up to tonight, the two of them hadn’t spent as much time together this past week. When they had, Natalia’s name had peppered many of his sentences.
During their brief introduction, Anamaría had been drawn to the other woman’s confident personality. The petite brunette was professional, no-nonsense, and strikingly beautiful. Definitely a memorable combination.
While Anamaría knew nothing was going on between Ale and the engaging art consultant, she couldn’t help but envy the time the woman had spent with him. Especially with that damn ticking clock counting down the days, hours, minutes Anamaría had left with him.
As he spoke, Ale swiveled to face the gallery, a single crutch tucked under his left shoulder. The Ilizarov external fixator rings and pins had been removed earlier that week, so he’d graduated to a CAM boot and one crutch for added support. He’d been so restless and impatient for that moment to arrive. Complaining about the limitations, especially when it came to their fun and games. She had been equally as anxious for their removal, even though it meant he was one step closer to being ready to leave.
Tonight, he had ditched the CAM boot rather than wearing it over the slim-fit charcoal suit pants that hugged his hips and thighs and narrowed down his legs. A crisp white button-down left open at the collar and a charcoal single-breasted jacket spanned his broad shoulders, while a pair of black brogues capped off his devastatingly dashing ensemble. His head tipped back on a laugh and her breath caught at the sight of him relaxed and happy, in his element. She wanted that for him. Had secretly prayed he could finally find that here.
Beside him, Natalia’s smile widened, her hands motioning along with her words. Several men nearby eyed her, and Anamaría figured the combination of Natalia’s animated personality and trendy vibe was hard for them to resist. The art consultant’s outfit tonight was pretty spectacular. Her black lace palazzo pants with matching black undershorts left her shapely bronze legs in peekaboo view, and a bloodred figure-skimming sleeveless halter top tucked into the waist of her pants, the color matching the slash of red on her lips.
Together Alejandro and Natalia moved into the open gallery area, pausing to talk to an older couple Anamaría recognized from the Miranda’s neighborhood. His abuela and Señora Miranda should be here already having arrived earlier to help set up the catering. Someone else from Miranda’s would work the event so his mom could enjoy herself, though knowing her, she’d check in with her employees.
Ernesto and Cece, sans their little ones, walked around the partial wall in the center of the gallery. With the new baby boy at home, Alejandro’s brother and sister-in-law wouldn’t stay long, but Anamaría’s heart swelled with joy for Ale as he and his brother exchanged a back-thumping hug. Ernesto pointed at something Anamaría couldn’t see through the growing crowd, and the brothers stepped in tandem toward another partial wall that created a little nook off to the left. Alejandro’s lips moved, his hand releasing the crutch grip as he gestured toward whichever photograph they discussed.
“You want to go say hello or start making our way around the exhibit?” Sara asked. She looped an arm around Anamaría’s waist, apparently taking her job of sticking close for moral support seriously. “Oh, my goodness, look at that one. It’s amazing.”
Sara pointed at a stunning photograph of two nuns dressed in full light blue and white habits, about to join a mass of people who created a long line trailing into the distance. If Anamaría remembered correctly, Ale said he’d taken that one in Portugal, while participating in a pilgrimage to Fátima.
“You just got back from New York, so you and my brother deserve a date night. Go wander. Enjoy yourselves,” Anamaría answered. She leaned close to her soon-to-be sister-in-law and whispered, “I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?” Sara waited for Anamaría’s nod; then she and Luis linked hands and moved into the Cultures around the Globe area.