“Pleeease?” I say with all the sweetness I can muster and top it off with a smile. It must be infectious because now he’s smiling back at me and I find a heat in it this time that I’ve never felt before.
“All right.” He gives in, and I feel my face light up like a Christmas tree.
Luke steps up to the painting of the Bottom of the World and stands in front of it with a shy awkwardness, his hands buried in his pockets again, his shoulders stiff with uncertainty. Dropping my purse on the floor beside my sandaled feet, I shake my head at him and wave my free hand.
“No—crouch down in front of it”—I step up and point out the perfect spot with the tips of my toes—“right about here.”
When I step out of the way, Luke does as I instruct and crouches, the top of his shoulder overlapping the base of the painting.
“Just look natural,” I go on, “and don’t look at me, but off in the distance. And don’t smile.”
Luke sits crouched on the pads of his feet, his heels raised from the floor, with his elbows resting on the tops of his thighs, his hands dangling stiffly between them. I move several feet away and stand at an angle so that I’m not directly in line with him and the painting and I start snapping shots. Six, twelve, eighteen, as many as I can and all in different angles.
Finally I put the camera away and Luke pushes himself up on his toes.
“So, um”—he waves a hand about the vast room—“you got any event planning pointers?” he says distractingly, changing the subject, and it’s so cute I can’t help but smile.
I pucker my lips, cross one arm over my stomach, and raise my other hand to my chin, pretending to look professional and contemplative.
“Hmm,” I say and look to my left, and then my right, taking my time. “Well, do you have a theme?”
Luke reaches up and nervously scratches the back of his neck.
“No, not really,” he says. “Unless Community Charity Art Event is considered a theme?”
I smile warmly. “Well, I mean more along the lines of”—I purse my lips in thought and then point at him—“think about a prom; there’s always a theme: a masquerade, Mardi Gras, Alice in Wonderland—there are so many things to pick from.”
Luke looks upward in thought, slowly nodding his head.
“That’s a good idea,” he says, and his eyes meet mine. “But there’s not a big budget for the setup. Honestly, Melinda never actually gave me a dollar amount, but I know that whatever it is, it’s not going to be a whole lot.”
I nod and think on it another moment, chewing on the inside of my mouth gently. I’m used to money being little to no issue when it comes to events, and now that I think about it, since this is a charity event, it’s counterproductive to spend a lot on a setup when that money could go toward the charity itself.
“OK, how about you find out Melinda’s budget,” I suggest, “and we’ll go from there. We’ll keep it simple. Depending on what we come up with, I might have to order some things online, but I know all the right places to look and can even talk to a few people I’ve worked with before to pull us a few strings.”
Luke looks at me in a suspicious sidelong glance.
“Us?” he asks with implication and a grin. “No working, remember?”
I grin back at him broadly, and with a shrug of my shoulders, I say, “It’s not the same, trust me. I would really love to help. To be honest, I’m actually kind of excited about it—my mind is already buzzing with ideas.”
Luke doesn’t appear convinced.
“You sure it’s not just that work addiction of yours?” he asks. “I refuse to enable you.”
I laugh lightly. “No, it’s nothing like that at all,” I say, stepping up closer and tilting my head a little. “I really want to help. I think it’ll be fun and it’s for a good cause; I can’t think of any reason not to.”