woman, completely mesmerized by her face. He covered the painting quickly when his manager entered into the room. “Everything’s all set,” he said. Cristian silently nodded his head. “Don’t tell me you’re getting nervous,” Robert said. “You should be used to the attention by now,” he said. “But this is different,” Cristian replied. “How so?” Robert asked. “You’ve done presentations before—what makes this any different?” “This just feels different,” Cristian said. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it,” he said. He felt an excitement in his belly as if he was on the cusp of something big, something life-changing.
While the others went out into the night for fun and excitement, Sage took out her laptop and searched the Internet for information about Cristian West. Still unable to find any photographs of him, she learned from his biography that he is the son of Christopher and Jillian Westmore who live on Long Island. Cristian dropped the “more” from his last name when he legally changed his name to West, and it’s rumored he has a loft in Greenwich Village. Even the cunning Anna was unable to get a glimpse of the artist when she visited the art gallery a few days ago. Sage was frustrated that she was unable to get a clue of what the man that shared the same first name as her beloved looked like. It just made her miss him even more, given their brief time together.
Curious about the fate of Thomas Furniture, she walked briskly over to the location as she remembered it, only to find that it was gone. The brownstone building had been demolished. She was stunned, for she was certain that the building would remain. Now, even that was gone and all she had left was her memories. Tears of blood formed in her eyes. It felt as if she was losing Cristian all over again. Feeling melancholy from a still-unhealed wound, she went back to her loft, shutting the bedroom door. Silently, she walked over to the dresser, opened it, and took out the old yellow, torn, laminated newspaper clipping of Thomas Furniture that had the hand-drawn picture of Cristian on it. Holding the clipping clasped in her hand, she held it to her breast, quietly weeping.
Media and paparazzi swarmed the entrance of the art gallery for the night of the presentation trying to get interviews and photos of the celebrities who attended. A limo drove up as Cristian, wearing sunglasses and his trademark black, made his entrance. “Cristian West!” the reporters yelled, barraging him with questions as he made his way toward the entrance. “Mr. West, can you tell us what the painting is?” a reporter asked. Cristian grinned. “And ruin my surprise?” he quipped. “I’ll give you a clue,” he said. “It’s about a woman.” “Like a Mona Lisa?” one of the reporters asked while the cameras from the paparazzi flashed around him. “You can say that,” Cristian said. “Is it someone you know?” “Do you know her name?” the reporters asked. “No, and I really have to get going,” Cristian said. “I’ll see you inside,” he said, waving as the reporters were yelling more questions at him. “You handled that well,” his manager said, chuckling. “It’s a spectacle out there,” Cristian said. “I didn’t expect this kind of attention.” “This is the biggest presentation yet,” Robert said, seeing dollar signs in his eyes. “This is going to be the best night of your life,” he said. Cristian smiled and nodded his head in agreement.
They walked inside just as the limo carrying the coven pulled up at the curb. Everyone looked at the press swarming the place with dismay. “We’ll have to hurry inside so they don’t get any pictures of us,” Anna said. “Or else Pearson will be on the first flight to find us.”
“We’ll be fine,” Sage said. As they got out the limo, she used her powers of illusion so that the media and photographers couldn’t see them. Anna grinned. “Sometimes, I forget just how powerful you are,” she said. The others were very impressed as well as they walked past the media, who didn’t notice them. Billy toyed with one of the photographers by adjusting the hat on his head before they walked inside.
The gallery was jam-packed with people, from celebrities to other artists. Sage, wearing a black evening gown and an upswept hairstyle intertwined with gold beads, walked toward the back of the gallery looking at the paintings while the coven were eyeing some of the guests as potential meals. She looked at one of the landscape portraits that had Cristian’s signature and was impressed with his eye for detail. She declined the waiter’s offer for wine. “May I have your attention?” Robert said into the microphone. “First, I want to thank you all for coming tonight,” he said. “I feel safe in saying that I can vouch for all the hard work Cristian has put into this masterpiece, and like you, I’m looking forward to seeing it.” “So, without further adieu, here is the man of the hour.” Cristian stepped to the podium amidst applause. “Thank you,” he said, smiling at the crowd. Sage felt the hairs on her neck rise upon the sound of his voice.
Trancelike, she walked into the showroom, trying to catch a glimpse of him, but his manager, who stood in the way, blocked her view. “Sometimes you see an image in your mind that’s so profound that you have to capture it,” he said nervously into the microphone. “For me, it’s an image of a beautiful woman.” Sage felt a tingling sensation go through her body. “I see her so clearly in my mind, but I have no idea if she is real or just a figment of my imagination. But I had to paint her portrait, because her face is unforgettable.” He drew a breath. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present Beauty Mysterium”—he took the cloth off the painting, revealing a portrait of Sage dressed in black and gold royal attire with an emerald and gold headdress.
Everyone gasped and applauded. The coven looked at each other in amazement as Sage moved among the crowd trying to get a better view. Upon seeing the portrait, she was stunned at seeing the likeness of herself. Her eyes then shifted to Cristian who turned back around smiling. Her jaw dropped as her eyes widened. “It can’t be,” she said astonished. She stood frozen like a statue as she looked at Cristian who bore a striking resemblance to her lost love. Cristian turned his head, looking into the crowd, when his eyes fell upon Sage who was staring at him. His body began to tremble as his throat went dry and his mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God,” he said as he stared at the incarnation of the woman who haunted his mind. She was real. It seemed as though time had stopped while Cristian and Sage stood still with their eyes locked into each other. Anna grabbed her arm. “We need to get out of here,” she said, pulling her toward the door as the coven, fearing exposure, began to make a quick exit. Realizing that he wasn’t hallucinating, Cristian yelled, “Wait!” as Anna continued to yank Sage, who couldn’t take her eyes off Cristian, away from the scene. “Wait!” Cristian yelled, running down from the podium. “Please!” he yelled as he pushed his way through the crowd while they whispered and strained their necks to see whose attention he was trying to obtain. Anna turned and glared at him as they went out the exit. “Wait!” Cristian yelled. He ran out the door, but they were gone. The media murmured about what happened inside. It began to drizzle as Cristian wrung his hands through his hair in frustration. He wanted and needed to know who this mystery woman was, now that he knew she existed.
The coven, mystified by what took place, sat in silence in the limo while Sage, shaken to her core, relayed in her mind what had just happened. It was as if she was staring at the ghost from her past; only this person was the spitting image of her lost love. “How is it possible?” she wondered. She knew that everyone had a twin, but his nearly identical resemblance to her beloved was more than just a coincidence. “Can time correct the mistakes of the past?” she asked herself as she took in the magnitude of what this could mean.