The waning intensity pierced the windshield of the comfortable ebony 2006 Escalade. Daniella reached for her stylish Ray-Bans. Daniella detested the fancy wheels Stanford “D-Man” Donovan insisted upon at the Cadillac dealership, but she knew she grateful to the persistent yet sensitive sales manager who talked her into. It was a far cry from the then-fading-fast and now rusting-in-peace-nutmeg-toned Chevy Nova.

Although the man with whom she shared part of her hyphenated last name was all about impressing strangers, enemies and friends, Daniella liked to take life slower. . .  more controlled.

She hated being out of control. But at least everything in this posh, rolling ivory- leather sanctuary.

The drive westward this particular Thursday evening was strangely less of a hassle than normal at this time of day. Typically, Primo Thursday’s always seemed to collide with some kind of high-tech trade show.  Fox Brook was recently named the Silicon Valley suburb of the Southeast. Everybody held stock in some sort of new software developed overseas, and investments didn’t come cheap.

The Lennox was just about 3/4^th of a mile away on the main drag of Herrington South Carolina. Its salvation from the wrecking ball created a bustling artzy-nuvo district in the historic section of Fox Brook, and area well-know for its eclectic wealth and natural history since its founding in the late 1860s, when cotton was king of the south and the plantation owners were emperors ruling the lives of those who made it possible for the town to swagger in old money.

Daniella headed up the committee to save the Lennox.

Of course,  here and there were the average wage earners like gardeners, hairstylists, dogwalkers and garbage collectors. They were looked upon as necessary, and considered among the less fortunate whose sole purpose in live was pleasing the needs of the richer human element. Then there was. . . “everybody else.”.

But more often than not, Daniella entreated the moonglow to be on the side of the fence where there was always more month than money. At least she’d have something in common with people who appreciated the simpler life; however she didn’t complain about the things her ex-NFL/MVP husband-in-name-only could provide her. Besides, her mother insisted on their marriage because “being engaged for longer than a year just lead to acts of physical sin.”

Oh how she despised that meddling woman!

Wheeling into a space that wasn’t partially hoarded by some behemoth infantile monster truck wanna-be, Daniella turned off the ignition, stepped out into the well-lit parking lot . She put her keys in her right coat pocket while thumbing the security alarm. The Herrington/Fox Brook district was always sufficiently endowed with a adequate law enforcement aside from the fact that a few of them were tainted apples whom, if the price was right, could easily be purchased. Especially at the Lennox where artwork ranging all the way up to millions of dollars was displayed by artists from all over the southern galaxy.

After checking her wrap at the coatroom, she walked into the tranquility of a rose and indigo mood. The atmosphere for this particular exhibition was nothing like Daniella had ever seen before. White long stem roses seemed to make love to the oversized crystal vases flanked every two feet it seemed up the velvet roped incline of the 50-foot red carpet curved entryway into main exhibit hall.  I could stay here forever! More that the perfect escape, she mused to herself.

The bar was open. The wait staff was skillfully making sure that everyone had their refreshment of choice ranging from club soda to the finest champagne.

A toothpick framed but smartly uniformed college student from the area approached Daniella. “Club soda please” Daniella requested. With a twist of lemon.

Sipping on her club soda, it was difficult hard not to lose one’s breath in the gallery. The paintings were absolutely breathtaking!  Framed in ornate hand-carved mahogany-wood were about 40 masterpieces from a newly discovered artist who could easily give a run for his money. Twenty positioned side by side on each opposing wall.  Each one with a crystal vase bearing what seemed to be at least two dozen white roses. The satin curtains of the Lennox with its imposing chandelier overhead seemed a perfect match for such a display. The perfect mix of old and new seem to call out to her.

“Excuse me Miss. . . . Miss?”

Then she felt a slight tap on her left shoulder.  “Hel-loooo?”  

 The words startled Daniella momentarily. She turned away from one of the paintings only to find another masterpiece, this time a human one. He was holding her car keys in her hand.

“The coat check girl said she thought these belonged to you.”

Daniella stood speechless over the Adonis-like mortal whom has just caught not only her ears, but even more importantly, her velvet hazel-brown eyes. (End of Part I of V)

 

This story continues as "Exhibitions--The Afterset"
 
 
 
  © 2005 cynth''ya lewis reed
all rights reserved.