fuonlyknew

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Caper Crush

by Kathy Strobos

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A feel-good, opposites-attract, slow burn romantic comedy

Somebody stole my painting! The one I need for the career-defining Vertex Art Exhibit.This upcoming art show is my chance tofinally be recognized as an artist—after ten years of waitressing and being asked if I still have that “lovely painting hobby.”

I have mere weeks to find my painting or lose my artist dream forever—but it’s going to mean working with William.

William Haruki Matsumura. Good-looking, if you like the Secret Service type. You know, law-abiding, protector of women and children. That’s all fine, but I can never tell what he’s thinking. Which drives me crazy.

He insists on coming along to do “damage control.” As if “accidentally” wandering into certain areas is “breaking and entering.” I may be an emotional artist, but William shouldn’t dismiss my investigative skills yet.

William is definitely my opposite, and, if there’s one takeaway from my parents’ divorce, it’s that opposites might attract, but it doesn’t last. But detecting with William is kind of fun—and fluttery. I definitely can’t trust these feelings, or can I? However this caper ends, I think this may be more than a crush.

Purchase Links – Amazon UK / Amazon US

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Chapter One

Pushing up my fake glasses on my nose,I shuffle closer to the twoother women to listen in on their conversation about the ultramarine abstract painting in front of them. I resist the urge to touch my straight, gray hair. I’ve learned that once I put on a wig, I shouldn’t touch it.This art gallery is a square, white-walled room in Tribeca with paintings hung a foot apart, abouttwenty colorful pieces in total. Between the cold air-conditioning and the pops of color, I feel like I’ve steppedinto the middle of a vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles. Next to the entrance, the gallery owner sits behind a shiny, white-laminate counter, typing on her laptop. Two large paintings are spotlighted in the storefront windows. My ultramarine painting, unfortunately, didn’t merit that prime real estate.These two women are a mismatched pair. One looks like an Upper East Side matron, immaculate, brown hair, clearly professionally blow-dried that morning, armored in a crisp, two-piece skirt suit. The other woman has wild, gray hair and is wearing a long, flowing skirt, turquoise and gold bangles covering her wrists.“Is this the one Jade recommended that we look at?” Coiffed Woman asks.Bangles Woman peers at the label. “I think so. She said to look at the works by artist Miranda Langbroek.” She steps back, her multiple bracelets jangling as she puts her hands on her hips and stares at the painting.“I don’t see what’s so special about it,” Coiffed Woman says. “Doesn’t it look like every other abstract painting out there?”

I cough. And that’s why people sa no good ever comes of eavesdropping about oneself. I need to armor up, but I still take criticism about my work personally.The two women look over at me in concern.“Are you okay?” Bangles Woman asks.“I’m fine. Got something lodged in my throat.” I clear my throat. “I think what makes this painting unique are the brushstrokes here building up the paint, almost like waves of color washing over you.”“Oh, interesting,” Bangles Woman says. “I see that now.”“Are you thinking of buying it?” Coiffed Woman asks me. Her perfume smells of honeysuckle.That’s a tough question to answer. Some buyers like competition and, if someone else is interested, will buy it immediately to scoop it up. But others back off. Plus, I don’t want to actually lie and say I’m going to buy it when I’m the artist trying to sell it. I never know if my disguise will actually work. But I really do need to sell this painting. I need the money. And my agent, Jade, will stop representing meif I don’t take off soon. I didn’t sell anything at the last little show she got me into.“No,” I say. “I love it, but I don’t have the budget to buy it.”“Our dealer said we should get in now before this artist becomes popular after the Vertex show,” Coiffed Woman says.“But I don’t know.” Bangles Woman frowns.This is torture. Why didI think covertly persuading art patrons to buy my work was a brilliant idea?“You should only buy it if you love it.” I don’t want my painting abandoned in a closet.

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Author Bio

Kathy Strobos is a writer living in New York City with her husband and two children, amid a growing collection of books, toys and dollhouses. She grew up in New York City and graduated from Stuyvesant High School, Harvard-Radcliffe University magna cum laude, and Columbia Law School. She spent two semesters abroad at the Universiteit van Amsterdam. She previously worked as a lawyer. She left law to pursue her dream of writing fiction full-time and getting in shape. She is the author of Partner Pursuit, Is This for Real?, A Scavenger Hunt for Hearts, andCaper Crush. She is still working on getting in shape.

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