Love or Die CEO’s Daily Dose of Swoon Chapter 139
Chapter 139
Ballaster wasn’t looking to make a scene, he was there on a mission. So he tucked himself away in the back corner, the last row where no one knew his face.
The auction items up till now had been a snore–fest. He and Naylor, both art aficionados, exchanged frowns. This kind of gathering was beneath them.
He was itching to leave, but he couldn’t–not until he’d 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 didn’t 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 Cordelia’s mother, seemed out of her league. Cordelia used Lorn’s name to lure him here, just to boost her mom’s confidence?
Despite his fear of the group’s ringleader, he had his pride as a man of letters.
Ballaster whipped out his smartphone, unable to resist venting in the “Who’s exactly the girl” chat group.
- Aster said, [I’m at a loss for words. Cordelia is out of her depth, it seems.]
After his brief rant, he set the phone aside.
Naylor, on the other hand, snapped a high–resolution photo of the painting and handed the phone to Ballaster. “Dad, take a look at this.”
Ballaster took the phone with a furrowed brow and was stunned. The style… was it not strikingly similar to Lorn’s?
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 way to the front. It wasn’t long before he found himself in the first row with a clear view. And there it was–the painting in all its glory!
Just as the auctioneer was about to declare the painting unsold, Ballaster cut in, “Hold on a moment!”
The auctioneer paused, looking bewildered, as Mrs. Collins shot a knowing glance to silence him.
And now, Ballaster could truly appreciate the artwork up close.
It was unmistakably Lorn’s work, and the Cordelia hadn’t deceived him!
Moreover, after eighteen years, Lorn’s art had evolved. The painting exuded a sense of desolation and solitude, rich in emotion–a 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 glasses….
Below, Fanny’s 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 Lorna’s 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.
Lorna’s scandal had rippled through their circles, tarnishing the company’s rep.
For instance, the Delaney Group’s potential collaboration with the Miller family fell through at the eleventh
hour. The patriarch of the Millers, a passionate art lover, was appalled by Lorna’s actions, which he saw as a mockery of Watercolor Painting. He called off the deal with Sanderson, sneering, “A man whose wife is vain and fraudulent casts doubt on his own character.”
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 Fanny’s painting neared an unsold fate, they jeered, “Mr. Delaney, this is quite embarrassing, isn’t it? Don’t tell me, this is another actor you’ve hired?”
Laurinda and Rachel, seated in the back, watched the debacle unfold. Laurinda scoffed, “Such a disgrace! I told her not to auction off the painting, but she didn’t listen. Now look! Lorna has brought shame to the Delaney
name.”
Rachel chuckled, “Well, Mom, they must be running low on funds. These charity galas are for the ladies to show off their own treasures. I bet Lorna didn’t have the heart to part with the jewelry my brother bought her.”
But as Ballaster’s voice rang out with “Hold on a moment!” and he approached the stage, the Millers laughed anew, “Mr. Delaney, are you sure this isn’t another stooge you’ve arranged?”
In the midst of the whispers and the sneers, Ballaster, standing before Lorna’s 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, “Obviously, she’s broke and doesn’t know the first thing about making money. She’s been living off Sanderson’s dime, hasn’t she? But what’s this now? Who’s the old guy taking the stage?”
As the crowd’s expressions varied, Ballaster, had finished scrutinizing the painting. He stood tall and declared, “This piece is on par with the works of the masters, a truly unparalleled gem!”
Such high praise was almost unheard of. Murmurs of skepticism started to ripple through the crowd below, “This has to be a publicity stunt, right? But even so, this is a bit much.”
“Yeah, it’s too far–fetched. We’ve never even heard of Mrs. Delaney’s work before, and suddenly this painting pops up as a one–of–a–kind masterpiece?”
Mrs. Collins, undeterred, asked directly, “So, what do you reckon this painting is worth?”
Ballaster shook his head, “This painting captures a desolation and despair that isn’t easily replicated. It’s not something that can be measured in terms of money.”
Laurinda burst into laughter at this, “You’re talking nonsense. Let me tell you, I know my daughter–in–law, and if her painting fetches a hundred bucks, that’d be a miracle! Where did you come from, spouting such nonsense?” As the crowd’s confusion deepened, Mrs. Collins hastily introduced him, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is B
Aster
Chapter 139
hour. The patriarch of the Millers, a passionate art lover, was appalled by Lorna’s actions, which he saw as a mockery of Watercolor Painting. He called off the deal with Sanderson, sneering, “A man whose wife is vain and fraudulent casts doubt on his own character,”
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 Fanny’s painting neared an unsold fate, they jeered, “Mr. Delaney, this is quite embarrassing, isn’t it? Don’t tell me, this is another actor you’ve hired?”
Laurinda and Rachel, seated in the back, watched the debacle unfold. Laurinda scoffed, “Such a disgrace! I told her not to auction off the painting, but she didn’t listen. Now look! Lorna has brought shame to the Delaney
name.”
Rachel chuckled, “Well, Mom, they must be running low on funds. These charity galas are for the ladies to show off their own treasures. I bet Lorna didn’t have the heart to part with the jewelry my brother bought her.”
But as Ballaster’s voice rang out with “Hold on a moment!” and he approached the stage, the Millers laughed anew, “Mr. Delaney, are you sure this isn’t another stooge you’ve arranged?”
a sense
of
In the midst of the whispers and the sneers, Ballaster, standing before Lorna’s 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, “Obviously, she’s broke and doesn’t know the first thing about making money. She’s been living off Sanderson’s dime, hasn’t she? But what’s this now? Who’s the old guy taking the stage?
As the crowd’s expressions varied, Ballaster, had finished scrutinizing the painting. He stood tall and declared, ‘This piece is on par with the works of the masters, a truly unparalleled gem!”
Such high praise was almost unheard of. Murmurs of skepticism started to ripple through the crowd below, “This has to be a publicity stunt, right? But even so, this is a bit much.”
“Yeah, it’s too far–fetched. We’ve never even heard of Mrs. Delaney’s work before, and suddenly this painting pops up as a one–of–a–kind masterpiece?”
Mrs. Collins, undeterred, asked directly, “So, what do you reckon this painting is worth?”
Ballaster shook his head, “This painting captures a desolation and despair that isn’t easily replicated. It’s not something that can be measured in terms of money.”
Laurinda burst into laughter at this, “You’re talking nonsense. Let me tell you, I know my daughter–in–law, and if her painting fetches a hundred bucks, that’d be a miracle! Where did you come from, spouting such nonsense?” As the crowd’s confusion deepened, Mrs. Collins hastily introduced him, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is B. Aster.”
Chapter 140
- Aster?