Many people crowded the new art gallery, speaking quietly amongst themselves as they observed the many large paintings hung on the smooth white walls. An old woman cringed slightly as she caught sight of one of the morbid pictures, but she couldn’t help but take a closer look. The dark and light colors blended nicely giving the painting a life-like look to it. Chained to the center of what seemed to be a brick wall of a dungeon, was an unclothed woman. Her wrists were cuffed together above her head, her elbows bent. Her hands were clenched tightly, knuckles white. The woman’s platinum hair cascaded over her shoulders, covering her breasts from the onlooker’s view. The ends of the light hair were stained red with blood. Soft candlelight reflected off the pale flesh. Her stomach wide open, the organs removed and replaced with a small wooden shelf placed horizontally across her abdomen, a candle sitting on the center creating a glow around the small cave-like hole.

The old woman shivered, placing a wrinkled hand over her mouth as she drew her gray brows together. She lifted her gaze to the face of the woman in the picture and gasped softly. The face was slightly shadowed, harder to see from the rest of the painting, but it was clear. Two hollow holes seemed to stare at the old woman where the eyes had been gouged out, blood streaming down the corner of the sockets as if she were crying. Her features were hardened, giving her the look of pain, as if she were still alive.

The old woman had had enough. She shielded her eyes, unable to look any longer at the gruesome painting as she walked away, heading for the door.

On the other side of the well-lit room stood Keelie Mathews, owner of the art gallery. She smiled softly, her ebony hair was pulled back at the sides in small silver clips in an elegant style. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts as she scanned the lively room. Tonight was her night. For years she had worked day and night, studying everything possible about the techniques of art and now was the pay off. She couldn’t believe it. It was like a dream come true.

"Keelie Mathews?" a voice asked from her right. Turning her head, she smiled politely to the young man holding out a small note pad and a pen. "Could I have your autograph?"

Uncrossing her arms, she took the pen and pad from him "Of course. What’s your name?"

"Matt Thompson," he replied.

Keelie smiled and scribbled down a small message along with his name and her own. Lifting her gaze, she handed them back. She studied him for a moment. He was quite young, but not to young, perhaps in his mid twenties. He wasn’t that bad looking, but he wasn’t quite what she would call, her taste. His dark hair was slicked back neatly, she couldn’t tell the color of it though because of the gel had made it look darker, but from the looks of it his hair was probably a light brown.

He took the things from her and smiled sheepishly, "Thank you, Miss."

"You’re quite welcome."

She watched his back as he walked away, heading toward the large crowd and handed a woman the notepad. Probably his wife, Keelie thought with a soft sigh as she directed her gaze elsewhere. She looked down at her dress and took hold of the sides of the black velvet gown, examining herself. She had tried to look as elegant as possible tonight. She wanted to make a great impression. She tapped her chin and glanced around the room for the hundredth time that night before peeking at her silver wristwatch. It was almost closing time. She wondered where Roger was. She had asked him if he would do the closing for her.

Keelie stepped down and away from her corner and stood on her tiptoes, scanning over the top of people’s heads. So many people tonight, she thought, wondering if more would come tomorrow. She truly did hope so.

She cast a glance to her side as she passed one of the smaller portraits in the gallery. It was one of her favorites. She stopped, her gaze running over the fine lines. All of her artwork was done from dreams she had and this one was the most recent. Embraced in arms of a shadow man, was a dark haired woman with her eyes closed. She was very beautiful, but she couldn’t remember her eyes to paint them opened. Usually in her paintings, the people would have no eyes. She believed that the eyes were the windows of the soul, and in her dreams that was how she saw them. They were soulless creatures, begging for an escape from their pain. But this dream was blurry to her. The woman almost looked like her. She had no intention of making it so; it just came out that way when she finished the painting. She felt connected to it somehow.

Blood stained the front of her dark gown and two punctures dripping with blood were on her neck. Shifting her gaze to the man, she frowned. She could not make him more but a shadow. She had no descriptions on him. It disappointed her greatly, but she was satisfied nonetheless with the turned out. It was a sad painting really. The dark arms held the woman close as if mourning her death.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" commented a deep voice from behind her. Keelie jumped, a tiny gasp escaping her lips as her eyes rested on a chest, clothed in a black turtle neck sweater. She blinks slowly, her eyes traveling upward until they locked with the most deepest green eyes she had ever seen, but they also looked as if they held all the sorrow and loneliness in the world. She stood frozen to the spot, her lips slightly parted in awe as she could do nothing but stare. Finally, she snapped out of the little trance and stuttered.

"Y-yes, it is, very much so."

Those sensual thin lips turned up into a small smile, but his emerald eyes studied her features, moving across her soft lips and thin dark eyes brows. Keelie couldn’t take her eyes off of him. There was something about him that just captured her complete attention, begging for it.

He chuckled softly. "And who would you be, m’lady?"

M’lady? That wasn’t something she heard everyday, but she didn’t mind it either. She really did enjoy the rumbling of his baritone voice.

"My name is Keelie. Keelie Mathews," she said proudly, straightening her composer.

His lips switched in slight amusement then gently took one of her hands in his own. His touch was cold, but Keelie didn’t really seem to notice. It was probably from the chilly weather outside.

Leaning down gracefully, he placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. "And mine is Alex Montgomery. ‘Tis a pleasure to meet such a beautiful woman as yourself, and one with much talent as well."

Keelie felt her cheeks warm, knowing quite well that she was blushing.

He smiled softly at her reaction then released her hand, though reluctant to do so. "How much is the painting?"

"The painting?" A look of confusion crossed Keelie’s features as she stared up into his eyes dreamily before spanning back to reality as his words took meaning. "Oh, the painting. You mean ‘Love Lost’?"

She motioned to the small painting beside them and he nodded.

"This one is two hundred and fifty dollars."

He slips his hand into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening it up, he flipped through the green bills until he found the right amount, holding them out to her. "I’ll take it then."

Keelie blinked as she stared at the money. Not many had this much cash on them, not only because people now a day wrote checks, but it was also dangerous to walk around the street with big bills in case of getting mugged.

She reached out and took the money and smiled, "Then it is yours. Would you like it wrapped?"

"Please?"

Keelie nodded and reached for the painting, taking hold of it on both sides of the frame as she lifted it down from the latch on the wall.

"Follow me."

She moved through the crowd, careful not to bump or to have anyone run into her and the painting. Alex followed closely behind, a little to close for her comfort. She could smell his scent, but she wasn’t able to name that paticular brand of cologne. Pushing open one of the swing doors with her hip, it opened fully when Alex pressed on it with a large hand.

"Why thank you."

He grinned sheepishly and nodded, "You are very welcome."

Keelie returned the smile and stepped in, setting the painting down on a long white table. She reached forward and pulled off a couple sheets of black and silver tissue paper, laying them flat on the table before her.

Alex stood back and watched as she worked, picking up the portrait and setting it in the center of the tissue, making sure the sides were all about equal length. She folded the sides neatly then taped down the creases. Picking up a roll of ribbon, she cut the demanded length and tied it into a bow around the wrapped painting. Turning to face him, she held it out.

"There you go."

He gently too it from her grasp as if it were the most delicate thing in the world, but his eyes where locked with hers. Those eyes, so very beautiful, so very familiar just as the painting was. It was like a memory lost in time and he couldn’t place it.

"Thank you," he softly murmured. "Perhaps we could go out for a drink sometime?"

Keelie’s eyes widened slightly. Should she? She didn’t know him but he seemed nice enough. It could be a thank you for buying one of her paintings. She needed the money since she had just rented a new apartment that demanded a lot more money than her last. Oh what the hell, she mused. He was good looking and obviously a romantic. What could it hurt?

"I’d like that."

Alex’s eyes lit up as his smile broadened. "Good. Tomorrow night?"

"Well, the gallery will be open again tomorrow, and most likely just as busy as it is tonight, but I’m sure I can get Roger to watch over things while I’m out."

Alex lifted a dark brow in question, "Roger?"

Keelie chuckled, "Roger is my older brother."

"I see." He studied her features as if engraving them into his memory. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he kept himself under control. "I will see you tomorrow night then?"
Keelie nodded, "Tomorrow."

Alex smiled and tucked the portrait under his arm. Turning around, he glanced over his shoulder to get one last look of Keelie before he left, the doors swinging to and fro from his departure.

Keelie sighed dreamily and shook her head. What has gotten into her? Perhaps she’d never know. Her life was always full of surprises.

Then it hit her.

How was he going to get hold of her?

She ran after him, shoving open the swinging doors, but he was no where in sight. She scanned the room many times before she finally gave up. Perhaps he didn’t really want to go out for drinks after all. He was probably just trying to be nice, maybe even hoping for a discount. Right now, it was closing time and she was dying for a nice hot bubble bath to relax in and a soft bed for a good night’s sleep. She’d worry about other things later.