Chapter 10
Meeting Mr. Steel
The entire walk into Hearthglen, I debated turning around. It wasn’t too late. I could suddenly become very ill. Or get struck by lightning. Or abducted by llamas. Okay, maybe not the last one. Still. There were plenty of perfectly reasonable excuses for not walking into the Lupine Gallery and meeting its owner.
Instead, I found myself climbing the familiar steps to the gallery lobby. The yellow Berry I’d met before, I think her name was Sunny, was working the front desk. She smiled as soon as she spotted me. “Pearl, right?” I gave a small nod. “Mr. Steel is expecting you.” She stepped out from behind the desk and opened the ‘STAFF ONLY’ door beside her. “Right this way.”
Oh yay. ‘Staff only’. I always hated walking through doors I wasn’t completely sure I was allowed to open. This felt like I was doing something illegal, even though I was literally being invited in. The moment I stepped through the doorway, the sounds of the gallery softened behind us. The hallway was narrow, but welcoming, lined with framed paintings waiting to be hung. A few rested carefully against the wall beside labeled wooden crates. Somewhere farther down the hall, I heard muffled voices and the clink of pottery being unpacked.
It wasn’t glamorous. It felt lived in. Busy. Like the gallery was more than just the paintings visitors came to see. We passed an open doorway where another employee sat cataloging artwork behind a mountain of paperwork. He glanced up long enough to smile before returning to his task.
“Mr. Steel’s just through here,” the receptionist said, stopping at the last door in the hall. She gave two gentle knocks.
“Come in,” a deep voice called from inside.
She gave me an encouraging smile before heading back down the hall. Suddenly, the hallway I’d just walked down felt a whole lot less intimidating than the office waiting on the other side of that door.
I took a deep breath and blew it out. “You can do this, Pearl.”
I slowly opened the door. The office wasn’t at all what I’d expected. Instead of expensive furniture and awards lining the walls, nearly every available space was occupied by artwork. Landscapes. Portraits. Pottery displayed on shelves. Small sculptures carved from wood and stone. Some pieces were clearly professional. Others looked like they’d been made by someone just starting out. The room felt warm. Inviting.
Behind a large wooden desk sat a tall navy-blue Shade with neatly combed dark hair streaked with silver at the temples. Round wire framed glasses rested low on his nose as he finished signing a document. He looked up and smiled, pushing his glasses back up. “You must be Pearl. Frost, correct?” His voice was deep and commanding, but still warm.
“I… yes, sir.”
He chuckled. “I’ve always thought ‘sir’ made me sound much older than I feel.” He stood, extending a hand. “Neptune Steel.”
He was very handsome for an older Berry. He had prominent cheekbones, a straight nose, a squared jaw, and a slightly tapered chin. The glasses softened his face, giving him a scholarly look. Without them, he was probably very intimidating.
I shook it carefully. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine. Please, have a seat.”
I sat on the edge of the chair, trying very hard not to look as nervous as I felt. It probably wasn’t working.
“I appreciate you coming in,” he said.
“Thank you for… inviting me.” I wasn’t sure if that was the right word, but he didn’t correct me.
“I’ve heard wonderful things about your paintings.”
I blinked. “You have?”
“Our gallery assistant has an excellent eye.” He folded his hands together. “Blaze doesn’t recommend artists lightly.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to do with that information.
“Although I was saddened to hear about your break-in. I’m truly sorry.” He sounded genuine, like he actually cared about a little nobody’s stolen art. “I want you to know we are doing all we can to assist the police with catching this thief.”
“Um, thank you. That does help put my mind a little more at ease.” Neptune Steel was not at all what I’d expected.
“I hope you installed better locks after that.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Definitely. Bolts and window security too.”
“So,” he said warmly, “tell me about yourself.”
“… Me?”
He smiled. “I know your name. I’d rather know the artist behind it.”
“I, um…” Take your time, Pearl. “I moved here from Frost Haven.”
Just like Urchin, he barely reacted to my hometown's name. I guess people out here didn’t really care if your ancestors founded a town or not. “I’ve heard Hearthglen has been treating you well.”
I smiled. “It has. Other than…”
His smile fell just a tiny bit, before coming back bigger than before. “I’m glad.”
Silence settled between us. Not uncomfortable. He wasn’t staring. He wasn’t waiting impatiently for me to speak. He simply gave me time to gather my thoughts.
“I paint mostly landscapes,” I finally said. “They’re mostly places around Hearthglen now.”
“What drew you to landscapes?”
“Oh.” Nobody had ever asked me that before. “I guess…” I looked down at my hands. “I’ve always liked places more than crowds.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I understand.”
“I like painting places that make me feel…” I searched for the word. “… Safe.” The word came out quieter than I’d intended. I’d felt safe in my cottage before the break-in. Now, I was having to tentatively rebuild that feeling of safety with time.
His expression softened. “That’s a wonderful reason to paint.”
I laughed nervously. “I don’t know if it’s a good reason.”
“I think it’s one of the best reasons.”
Something in my shoulders relaxed. Just a little. Before I realized it, I was talking. About the lake in the Briarwood. About how sunlight looked different through autumn leaves. About spending hours trying to mix the exact shade of green for fresh spring grass. About how clouds never looked the same twice. I didn’t even notice how much I was rambling until I finally stopped to breathe. “… Sorry.”
“What for?”
“I talk too much sometimes.”
He smiled kindly. “I hadn’t noticed.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “I’m pretty sure I just gave you a five-minute lecture about mixing paint.”
“It was fascinating.” I looked at him skeptically. He laughed. “I mean that sincerely.” I still wasn’t entirely convinced.
He stood and wandered toward one of the paintings hanging behind his desk. It depicted a small cottage surrounded by lavender fields. “Do you know why I love local artists?” he asked. I shook my head. “They paint places because they’ve lived them.” He looked back at me.
“A traveler might paint Hearthglen because it’s beautiful.” He gestured toward the painting. “But someone who lives here paints the way morning fog settles over the lavender fields… or the creek after a summer rain… or the old windmill everyone passes without noticing anymore.”
I smiled. “I actually painted the windmill a few days ago.”
“I hope I get to see it.” There was no pressure in his voice. Only genuine curiosity. He returned to his chair. “I won’t pretend we haven’t had… unfortunate circumstances recently.” He sighed quietly. “The paintings can never truly be replaced.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he smiled again. “Which is precisely why I’d like to continue supporting the artists who trust us.” He leaned forward slightly. “Pearl…” My stomach tightened. “I would be honored to display your work here, if you would like to.”
I just stared at him “Really?”
“Really.”
“I’ve only sold…” I stopped myself.
“Two paintings?”
My eyes widened. “How did you—”
He smiled knowingly. “Cypress was very excited for you.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “Oh.”
“I don’t judge artists by how many paintings they’ve sold.” He looked around his office. “I judge them by whether their work makes people feel something.” He met my eyes. “Yours does.”
For a moment, I forgot every anxious thought I’d walked in with. I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You could say yes.”
A laugh escaped before I could stop it. “I…” I thought about the empty space on the gallery wall. The stolen paintings. My stolen painting. The little cottage I’d turned into a home. The people I’d met here. About Hearthglen. I wasn’t going to let anything deter me this time. I smiled. “… I’d like that.”
His smile matched mine. “Wonderful.”
An hour later, I stepped back out into the afternoon sunshine carrying a folder full of paperwork and exhibition information. Three paintings. That’s what we’d agreed on. Three of my paintings would soon be hanging in the Lupine Gallery.
I looked down at the folder in my hands and laughed quietly to myself. I’d walked in expecting to meet the scariest Berry in Hearthglen. Instead, I’d met someone who believed in my work. I wasn’t sure I knew how to accept that yet. I hoped I didn’t let him down.