Chapter 120
Lorna replied indifferently. âWhatâs it to you, anyway â
Fanny chuckled, âWhat do you mean whatâs it to me? Have you forgotten who I am? Iâm the chairwoman of the Greenmeadow Art Association. You want to sell your paintings, youâve got to go through me.â
The Greenmeadow Art Association was a community organization, but in Greenmeadow, all the painters and artists would show Fanny some respect.
Lorna got the message in an instant, âAre you behind this?â she asked.
Fannyâs voice turned icy. âSo what if I am? Yesterday, you played your little game, made Calvert block my daughter on social media, now donât blame me for not playing nice with you.â
Lornaâs fingers clenched.
Her paintings had been up for sale for a long time without a buyer. Considering Calvertâs incident happened just yesterday, it was clear Fanny had been targeting her for a while.
What grudge could last eighteen years
Fanny sneered again, âI didnât do much, really. But you, thinking youâre some kind of top artist? One painting and you expect to rock the watercolor world? Honey, you havenât touched a brush in eighteen years. Have you even seen the mess youâve been painting?â
Truth be told, Lorna felt a bit shaky. She felt her recent works were on par with those from eighteen years ago, perhaps even more mature, but that was just her opinion. She didnât know what the world thought of her art.
Fannyâs words shattered her regained confidence, and her fork dropped onto the plate with a clatter.
She took a deep breath, asking, âIs there anything ?â
Fanny scoffed, Seriously, in our field, whoâs to say whoâs a superstar and whoâs a dud? It all comes down to who gets the big desk. Cross me, and youâll get nowhere in Greenmeadow. Iâll enjoy watching you fall!â
Lorna, trembling with anger, didnât wait for another word and hung up.
Tears welled up, catching the attention of Sanderson, who inquired, âWhatâs wrong?â
Lorna glanced at him and shook her head, âItâs nothing.â
Many who bought watercolor paintings were laymen, and an artistâs reputation was often hyped up. The Delaney family had money, and with enough cash, they could indeed buy her a reputation. But she didnât want
that.
She had taken up painting again not for Sanderson to pay her way, and besides even though they had recovered that fifty million, Sanderson had reinvested it into the business, putting a strain on their finances for the past couple of months. She didnât want to add to his stress.
Besides, even if she told Sanderson, there was a barrier between the art world and the business world; other than throwing money to promote someone, there wasnât much else he could do.
Seeing her reticence, Sanderson sighed,
That evening, as Cordelia came home from school, she found that her grandparents had arrived. Her grandfather, battling with mental issues and mobility problems, lived with her grandmother in a room downstairs, which was already tidied up, and they were now chatting in the living room.
Upon seeing them, Cordeliaâs eyes lit up as she approached her grandmother, Mathilda.
Mathilda teased her, âMiss me, Lia?â
Cordelia hesitated, ââ¦Yeah.â
Chapter 120
Mathilda sighed, âIs it me you missed, or my collection of classic novels?â
ââ¦Both.â
âWhich more, me or the books?â
Cordelia felt her grandma was a bit childish. Was her grandmother treating her like she was eight instead of eighteen? Her bemused expression only made Mathilda laugh louder.
Mathilda then said, âAlright, alright, no more jokes. Letâs see what books Iâve brought you!â
Cordelia nodded and followed her into the room.
When they had renovated the house Sanderson had considered the possibility of the elders moving , so they had installed a spacious suite on the ground floor, with an adjoining study and living room leading to the bedroom.
Several boxes of books were yet to be shelved on the study desk.
Mathilda rummaged through one of the boxes and handed Cordelia a rare, outâofâprint edition of âElemental Chemistry,â a book that probably only someone like Mathilda would possess.
As Cordelia took the book, her grandfather, Lacy Wilson, also entered the room.
He was different from typical mental patients, very quiet, sometimes mute and introverted, other times appearing quite normal
He looked at Cordelia closely, then smiled and said, âLorna, dear!â
Mathilda with resignation, âHeâs confused again.â
Cordelia didnât mind. She gently held Lacyâs hand, trying to guide him to the sofa, but he gestured for silence, âLorna, come here. Iâve got something great to show you.â
He scurried to the bookshelf, searching for a while before handing her a magazine, âLook at this!â
Cordelia saw it was a scientific research project proposal.
He smiled and cherished it like a treasure, âThis could be worth a fortune in patent fees. Itâll be your wedding fund! Buy you a big house!â
Mathilda sighed, âEver since he got sick, heâs been like this. Take it, otherwise, heâll bother you about it every day.â
Cordelia nodded, taking the project proposal and chemistry book out just as Sanderson arrived from work. He greeted her with a smile, âLia, guess whoâs here!â
Cordelia looked over, confused, and to her surprise, she saw a familiar figure following Sanderson into the
house.
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Everard entered and offered a smile, âI heard your grandparents were in town, thought Iâd drop by to pay my
respects.â
Cordelia was speechless. Those were her grandparents! What business was it of his?
As the evening settled in, Fiona spoke up, âIs the master back? Dinner is all set, and the lady mentioned we should start once you arrive. Sheâs currently in her studio upstairs. Shall I call her down?â
Just as Fiona made a move to ascend the staircase, Cordelia chimed in, âIâll go.â
She had been meaning to put her book down anyway.
Fiona nodded in agreement, âAlright then, Iâll serve the dinner.â
Cordelia cast one more glance at Everard before heading upstairs. She first dropped her backpack and the items in her hands off in her bedroom, then proceeded to the studio and pushed open the door.
Chapter 120
The studio filled with an array of paintbrushes and canvases, and there was an inkstone on the table. Lorna sat there gracefully, her hand moving delicately with a brush to add the final touches to a painting.
Hearing the door open, Lorna glanced over and said, âJust a moment, Lia, Iâm almost finished with this piece.â
Cordelia nodded silently. She tiptoed closer to where Lorna was working, watching she masterfully added a couple of strokes to a landscape painting, the shadows coming alive under her brush. The entire scene exuded a sense of serene tranquility.
Once Lorna put the brush down, she picked a small stamp and pressed it firmly into the bottom right corner of the painting, then lifted it away.
That must be Lornaâs signature, Cordelia thought, leaning in curiously to take a closer lookâ¦