Emerald Fire (Christian Romance) (The Jewel Series) by Hallee Bridgeman

end of the song and the completion of the painting. Maxine, barefoot in ripped jeans and a half-top, stepped back from the canvas and narrowed her eyes, seeking any flaw in the oils. As she shifted her eyes, the mirrored wall across from her caught her attention. Something about her stance made her look primitive, primal, elemental. She shook her head to clear the image of another painting as a mandolin heralded the next song, and Robert Plant began singing about the Queen of Light.
    Satisfied, Maxine set her palette and brush down and rubbed the back of her neck with paint splotched fingertips. She felt drained, sucked dry, like she felt every time she finished a painting, but it was in no way a bad thing. In fact, she sought this feeling, this cleansing, perhaps, as her chief goal.
    With natural grace, she slid across the hardwood floor of her studio and silenced the music. She rolled her head on her neck as she walked back into the main apartment.
    Long before Tony entered their lives, Robin had worked two jobs to put Maxine and Sarah through college. Maxine lived with her even after college and after securing a good job with an advertising agency. While she tried to help Robin pay for tuition or living expenses or even food, Robin thwarted every attempt until Maxine just decided to start banking the money with the intent of handing Robin a paid tuition package the year after Sarah graduated. Before that could happen, Robin married Tony. So, Maxine had a large portfolio and no plans for it.
    With Tony’s sharp business mind, he took half of her savings and taught her how to invest it. With the other half, she purchased the top floor of a brownstone on Newbury Street. The two large apartments on that floor easily converted to one large apartment and one studio. With the help of a contracting company that Tony owned, she soundproofed the studio and installed a state-of-the art stereo system that played music with enough volume that she could feel the beat in her pulse, but kept the noise contained so as not to disturb everyone within a three-block radius.
    She often found herself pulling all-nighters, rushing home from work, kicking off her heels, slipping out of the suit of the day, throwing on torn and tattered jeans and an old football jersey or sweatshirt from her college days and just painting and painting until the sun peaked through the blinds. Despite the artistic outlet her job afforded, she resented its intrusion on her purely creative side and often wondered, “when?”
    When would she feel comfortable enough with her portfolio to quit that high paying job with the newly acquired office and shared secretary and just give in to her dreams of simply painting? Painting; the passion of her life; the succor her jaded soul required; the solace her troubled heart sought. When could she just paint?
    Tony’s guidance and mentorship had allowed her portfolio to grow and grow. Every quarter, Maxine watched the numbers and had almost reached her comfort level. She owned her apartment, she owned her car, and she owed no one anything. Maybe in another three months, she’d have the magic number savings that would allow her to quit her job and rely fully on her painting for the rest of her days. The very thought made fear and anxiety form into a tight little ball in her stomach. What if she couldn’t succeed?
    Maybe she needed to raise the number a little higher. Growing up the daughter of a drug addict who pimped herself out to whatever druggie boyfriend would take in her and her three girls made security extremely important to Maxine. So many nights she’d lay on her bare mattress or on dirty sheets next to one or both of her sisters and her stomach would growl with such intensity that the pain of hunger would claw through her body. The first twelve years of her life revolved around terror and hunger and pain. She needed that cushion of self-sufficiency to back her so that no matter what happened, no matter if she ended up