"In a while the frenzy will subside, you'll see." Once people had their chat with the artist and had made their selections, they settled in and the atmosphere seemed more like a party. Jackson was speaking with some rich blowhard when he noticed Elisabeth make her way to Connor and Sarah. She took Sarah's hands, probably thanking her for attending. He watched, but stood too far away to tell if she had the blank stare of someone being influenced. She dropped Sarah's hands and looked up, spotting Jackson. She headed straight for him, so he assumed Sarah hadn't made contact or was unable to influence her. She approached him and said, "You are a pompous ass, and not nearly as good looking as you think." Then turned and brushed him aside.
Jackson took a step back in shock, then noticed Connor and Sarah across the room laughing hysterically. Sarah gave him the thumbs up sign.
"Nice." He flipped her off and followed Elisabeth.
He found her in the kitchen loading clean glasses on trays. Upon seeing him, she said, "Perfect timing. Could you help me bring these to the bar?"
"Of course."
She kissed him on the cheek. "I think it's going well, don't you?"
"Very much so." As they walked to the bar, he decided to make sure that the night they met wasn't just a fluke. When the trays were stowed he said, "You have something on your cheek, let me get it. He held her head in his hands, locked eyes with her and commanded, "Your favorite color is red."
She frowned. "Whatever made you think that? My favorite color is green."
"Oh, my mistake, I thought you told me red." She looked at him bewildered. Thankfully someone called her away. Jackson stood at the bar lost in thought. So it's me. What the hell does that mean? He had been hoping Sarah would be unsuccessful.
The last guest left around 11:00 p.m. "Well, Miss Sidwell, I'd say you're a big hit with high society."
"It went exceptionally well, better than I expected. I sold nearly everything and even contracted four portrait commissions."
Jackson drew her into an embrace. "Congratulations. You deserve it. Now, let me help you clean this place up."
"Oh no, really, all I have to do tonight is put the dishes back in the caterer's boxes. I don't even have to wash them. They're picking them up at nine tomorrow morning."
"Then let's have at it."
"You're so sweet. I have to sit for just a minute. My feet are killing me. I stood the whole evening." She plopped down on one end of the sofa and took her heels off. Jackson sat away from her and motioned with his hands to put her feet up. "Oh, that's heaven," she purred, as he massaged her feet and calves. She closed her eyes and rested her head back. Jackson didn't speak; he just sat appreciating her expression of pure contentment. It wasn't long before her breathing slowed. After making sure she was asleep, he carefully slid out from under her feet and headed to the studio.