Read On 4/19 (On 4/19 and Beyond 4/20) for Free Online Page B

keep up the pretense for an entire year. No doubt, John would catch on, admit his mistake, and find a loophole to get out of the contract. Could she blame him?
    Inside the gallery, she moved through the exhibits as if she knew what she was looking at, and at first didn’t see John. Surrounded by strangers in an environment that was totally foreign to her, she felt terribly out of place, nervous even. Moving to look at one piece of what someone must consider art, she stood paralyzed, pretending she fit in, pretending she understood it. Whatever it was, it was a mystery.
    “Do you like this?”
    Thankfully, it was John. He’d quietly come to stand just behind her. Turning to look at him, relieved, she sighed and shook her head. “No, not really.” Once again he had on a dark suit and white shirt, and compared to the other men in the room, he looked more sophisticated and stylish than any of them, but more than the suit, it was his attitude that set him apart, so confident and unaffected. It was the very first time she looked at him and felt an unusual queasiness in her stomach. Actually,the feeling affected more than her stomach, it rose clear up into her throat, making it feel restricted. Her heart was thudding angrily against her ribs, and she feared that maybe he sensed her nervousness. Biting at her lower lip, she tried to refocus her mind on anything other than how handsome he looked and how surprisingly he affected her.
    “You look amazing.” Once he saw the receipts for hers and Irene’s shopping excursion, he expected nothing less. Her dress was shimmering silver, a long slinky tank top, but in the gallery lighting, her eyes sparkled even more than the dress. Standing there, admiring how beautiful she looked, he was glad he’d invited her. Mundane events such as this would be much more bearable with her along. He liked her sense of humor, and he especially appreciated how real she was compared to the rest of his world. Lately, he found himself exhausted by the pretense of people.
    “Have you seen anything you do like?”
    “No, not so far.” Tucking her hair behind her ear, she looked down, admitting, “I’m rather uncultured when it comes to art, especially this kind.”
    “Impressionism?”
    “Yes. I simply don’t get it. Most of it is like a picture my niece would paint and my sister would hang on her refrigerator.” As soon as she said such a thing, she worried he was a collector. “I’m sorry.”
    “Why are you sorry?” He could see the embarrassment in her eyes. During their time together, he was determined to help her get past that. She apologized too often for giving her opinion.
    “I realized you may be a collector or, well, I don’t know. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
    Chuckling, he assured her, “You have not hurt my feelings. As a matter of fact, I’m not a fan either.” There was a clear look of relief on her face when he assured her she had not hurt his feelings. Actually, the thought of hurt feelings caused him to chuckle again. As if that were possible. What he did learn through this brief exchange was that her heart was tremendously tender. He would bear that in mind, as it was not a trait he had encountered in a woman in many years. His tone was often one of severity, so in dealing with Chelsea, he would have to learn a little delicacy.
    After some time, she asked, “So if you’re not a fan of this, then why are we here?”
    “An associate’s wife owns the place.”
    “So this is business?”
    “Everything I do is.”
    Pondering that, she watched his interactions with new eyes as he spoke to one person after another. One thing she noted early on was that he commanded much respect. Rarely did he approach others; instead, he waited for them to come to him – and they did. At any given time, several people hovered, as if awaiting their turn with the king. John’s manner, while his appearance would seem casual and unconcerned about his surroundings, was