Love Like Art
 
'I promise you're going to enjoy this,' Rose said excitedly to her older brother. 'And one of my favourite artists has some stuff on display tonight.'

Derek Hudson was glad to be with his sister but he hated the art shows she kept dragging him to. He would have preferred sitting on the couch with a beer on a Saturday night.

'We're here!' Rose announced.

Derek reluctantly parked his white Range Rover in the lot.

'Can't I just stay here?' he whined.

'Stop being such a baby and just let yourself loose for once.' Rose said, practically dragging him out of the SUV.

Keri Martins sat alone at the mini bar, nervously eyeing anyone who took a look at her artwork. It was her strategy to stay away. Keri had always thought that a true artist should let the artwork do the talking. And besides, she was extremely shy and avoided "mingling". She looked at the empty seat next to hers and sighed. Normally, her best friend, Matt would be with her but he wasn't. He was on his honeymoon. The loneliness and sadness filled her again. She secretly wished for what he had...a soul-mate.

'Keri, there you are!' She was knocked out of her reverie by the sound of Rose's voice. 'Your stuff looks great tonight!'

'You're just saying that.'

'No, I'm serious.' Rose insisted. 'Even my brother is interested.'

Rose nodded towards the direction of Derek, who was a couple of feet away, intently staring at one of Keri's paintings.

Derek didn't know what it was but something about the painting caught his attention. It was like the image reminded him of something, someone. Something that brought back a pleasant memory, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. It was an impressionist painting; he knew that because of the three years he spent in a posh English boarding school.

'Oy, Derek, get over here!'

Rose's voice snapped him back to reality and he sauntered to the bar where she was sitting next to some other girl.

'Keri, this is my big bro, Derek. Derek, this is Keri Martins. The painter of the piece you were staring at right now.'

'I finally get meet the person my sister's always raving about.' Derek said casually.

She looked like such a typical artist in a gypsy skirt and sneakers. Her wild curly hair was tied up in a pony on the side of her head. Her deep brown eyes and pouty lips and smooth medium brown skin rated her "cute" on Derek's scale. Definitely nothing more.

'Nice to meet you too.'

Keri wanted to kick herself. She was in the presence of an insanely hot guy and all she could cough up was 'Nice to meet you'. Smooth move Martins. But she couldn't help it. Derek had her tongue-tied. Broad shoulders, maybe 6': he was like her redhead Adonis.

'Derek moved here from L.A. last week.' Rose announced.

Keri nodded. 'How do you like New York so far?' she asked.

'It's ok.' Derek shrugged. 'Except for Rose here, who is as annoying as hell.'

'Yep, Rose is one of a kind.'

'You know you love me.' Rose nudged her brother. 'Well, I'm going to have a look about. Wanna join me Derek?'

Derek shook his head. 'I think I'll just sit here for a while. Have a drink or two.'

'Have it your way.' Rose disappeared into the crowd.

Derek ordered a beer from the bartender and seemed completely oblivious to Keri's existence. Keri didn't seem to mind. She could sit and ogle at how gorgeous he looked. Keri knew a guy like Derek would never give her a second glance so she didn't bother getting her hopes up of getting any where with him, even though he was good to look at. She stared at his large, masculine hands that were clasped around the Heineken bottle, imagining them caressing her waist, moving down her thighs...

'So Keri, how did you become friends with my crazy sister?'

'We met at an art show, kinda like this one.' She mumbled a reply.

She took a sip of her fruit juice, kicking herself inside for not saying something wittier.

'Rose has always been obsessed with art. Pity she's not any good at it.' Derek turned to look at Keri. 'You're fucking brilliant. Where did you learn to paint like that?'

Rose felt her face burn up. She wasn't sure whether it was from the compliment or from receiving a gaze from Derek's emerald green eyes.

'Um, my dad.' She found her voice again. 'He was a painter himself.'

'He taught you well.'

'Thanks.'


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