Chapter
Ballaster wasnât looking to make a scene, he was there on a mission. So he tucked himself away in the corner, the last row where no one knew his face.
The auction items up till now had been a snoreâfest. He and Naylor, both art aficionados, exchanged frowns. This kind of gathering was beneath them.
He was itching to leave, but he couldnâtânot until heâd seen the painting.
Finally, the painting from Mrs. Delaney appeared. But Ballaster was too far back to see it clearly. He caught at blurry glimpse and didnât think much of it.
The chatter of the crowd was grating on his nerves.
Fanny, for all her lack of prowess in landscape painting, could still critique a piece with some level of expertise. And Cordeliaâs mother, seemed out of her league. Cordelia used Lornâs name to lure him here, just to boost her momâs confidence?
Despite his fear of the groupâs ringleader, he had his pride as a man of letters.
Ballaster whipped out his smartphone, unable to resist venting in the âWhoâs exactly the girlâ chat group.
After his brief rant, he set the phone aside.
Naylor, on the other hand, snapped a highâresolution photo of the painting and handed the phone to Ballaster. âDad, take a look at this.â
Ballaster took the phone with a furrowed brow and was stunned. The style⦠was it not strikingly similar to Lornâs?
He adjusted his glasses and gave the photo a closer look,
The digital image was a tad distorted so he stood up and made his to the front. It wasnât long before he found himself in the first row with a clear view. And there it wasâthe painting in all its glory!
Just as the auctioneer was about to declare the painting unsold, Ballaster cut in, âHold on a moment!â
The auctioneer paused, looking bewildered, Mrs. Collins shot a knowing glance to silence him.
And now, Ballaster could truly appreciate the artwork up close.
It was unmistakably Lornâs work, and the Cordelia hadnât deceived him!
Moreover, after eighteen years, Lornâs art had evolved. The painting exuded sense of desolation and solitude, rich in emotionâa masterpiece!
How could such a work go unsold?
Unsatisfied with just a view from the crowd, Ballaster dashed up the steps onto the stage, leaning in to examine the painting through his glassesâ¦.
Below, Fannyâs face, once full of mockery, was now frozen in disbelief. She turned incredulously to see B. Aster approaching the front.
She knew the caliber of Lornaâs paintings, of course. Her standing in the Watercolor Painting community was built on a keen eye. But why was B. Aster here? What brought him?
Meanwhile, Sanderson and Everard sat amidst the assembly, not with the ladies but with the businessmen.
Lornaâs scandal had rippled through their circles, tarnishing the companyâs rep.
For instance, the Delaney Groupâs potential collaboration with the Miller family fell through at the
hour. The patriarch of the Millers, a passionate art lover, was appalled by Lornaâs actions, which he as a mockery of Watercolor Painting. He called off the deal with Sanderson, sneering, âA man whose wife is vain and fraudulent doubt on his own character.â
The deal was dead in the water.
Sanderson, mocked and livid, his anger. He denied any impact when Lorna asked, not wishing to burden her with guilt.
And now, with the Millers seated behind him, as Fannyâs painting neared an unsold fate, they jeered, âMr. Delaney, this is quite embarrassing, isnât it? Donât tell me, this is another actor youâve hired?â
Laurinda and Rachel, seated in the back, watched the debacle unfold. Laurinda scoffed, âSuch a disgrace! I told her not to auction off the painting, but she didnât listen. Now look! Lorna has brought shame to the Delaney
name.â
Rachel chuckled, âWell, Mom, they must be running low on funds. These charity galas are for the ladies to show off their own treasures. I bet Lorna didnât have the heart to part with the jewelry my brother bought her.â
But as Ballasterâs voice rang out with âHold on a moment!â and he approached the stage, the Millers laughed anew, âMr. Delaney, are you this isnât another stooge youâve arranged?â
In the midst of the whispers and the sneers, Ballaster, standing before Lornaâs painting, felt a sense of vindication wash over him. This was no sham, no act of vanity. It was art, pure and simple, and it deserved its due recognition.
Laurinda snorted derisively, âObviously, sheâs broke and doesnât know the first thing about making money. Sheâs been living off Sandersonâs dime, hasnât she? But whatâs this now? Whoâs the old guy taking the stage?â
As the crowdâs expressions varied, Ballaster, had finished scrutinizing the painting. He stood tall and declared, âThis piece is on par with the works of the masters, a truly unparalleled gem!â
Such high praise was almost unheard of. Murmurs of skepticism started to ripple through the crowd below, âThis has to be a publicity stunt, right? But even so, this is a bit much.â
âYeah, itâs too farâfetched. Weâve never even heard of Mrs. Delaneyâs work before, and suddenly this painting pops up as a oneâofâaâkind masterpiece?â
Mrs. Collins, undeterred, asked directly, âSo, what do you reckon this painting is worth?â
Ballaster shook his head, âThis painting captures a desolation and despair that isnât easily replicated. Itâs not something that can be measured in terms of money.â
Laurinda burst into laughter at this, âYouâre talking nonsense. Let me tell you, I know my daughterâinâlaw, and if her painting fetches a hundred bucks, thatâd be a miracle! Where did you come from, spouting such nonsense?â As the crowdâs confusion deepened, Mrs. Collins hastily introduced him, âLadies and gentlemen, this is B
Aster
Chapter 139
hour. The patriarch of the Millers, passionate art lover, was appalled by Lornaâs actions, which he mockery of Watercolor Painting. He called off the deal with Sanderson, sneering, âA man whose wife is vain and fraudulent casts doubt on his own character,â
The deal was dead in the water.
Sanderson, mocked and livid, swallowed his anger. He denied any impact when Lorna asked, not wishing to burden her with guilt.
And now, with the Millers seated behind him, as Fannyâs painting neared an unsold fate, they jeered, âMr. Delaney, this is quite embarrassing, isnât it? Donât tell me, this is another actor youâve hired?â
Laurinda and Rachel, seated in the back, watched the debacle unfold. Laurinda scoffed, âSuch a disgrace! I told her not to auction off the painting, but she didnât listen. Now look! Lorna has brought shame to the Delaney
name.â
Rachel chuckled, âWell, Mom, they must be running low on funds. These charity galas are for the ladies to show off their own treasures. I bet Lorna didnât have the heart to part with the jewelry my brother bought her.â
But as Ballasterâs voice rang out with âHold on a moment!â and he approached the stage, the Millers laughed anew, âMr. Delaney, are you sure this isnât another stooge youâve arranged?â
a sense
of
In the midst of the whispers and the sneers, Ballaster, standing before Lornaâs painting, felt a vindication wash over him. This was no sham, no act of vanity. It was art, pure and simple, and it deserved its due recognition.
Laurinda snorted derisively, âObviously, sheâs broke and doesnât know the first thing about making money. Sheâs been living off Sandersonâs dime, hasnât she? But whatâs this now? Whoâs the old guy taking the stage?
As the crowdâs expressions varied, Ballaster, had finished scrutinizing the painting. He stood tall and declared, âThis piece is on par with the works of the masters, a truly unparalleled gem!â
Such high praise was almost unheard of. Murmurs of skepticism started to ripple through the crowd below, âThis has to be a publicity stunt, right? But even so, this is a bit much.â
âYeah, itâs too farâfetched. Weâve never even heard of Mrs. Delaneyâs work before, and suddenly this painting pops up as a oneâofâaâkind masterpiece?â
Mrs. Collins, undeterred, asked directly, âSo, what do you reckon this painting is worth?â
Ballaster shook his head, âThis painting captures a desolation and despair that isnât easily replicated. Itâs not something that can be measured in terms of money.â
Laurinda burst into laughter at this, âYouâre talking nonsense. Let me tell you, I know my daughterâinâlaw, and if her painting fetches a hundred bucks, thatâd be a miracle! Where did you come from, spouting such nonsense?â As the crowdâs confusion deepened, Mrs. Collins hastily introduced him, âLadies and gentlemen, this is B. Aster.â
Chapter