Being a cop, Grady would have admonished anyone who got into a car with someone who was still more or less a stranger but at this point in his life he felt like he was a pretty good judge of character and he hadn't picked up on any off-kilter vibes from Dahlia. "I can sit with you for a few," Grady said, thinking about how much easier this would be if he was the kind of guy who had no qualms about taking a woman home he'd just met. If Jen hadn't been home, he might have actually considered it tonight. He smiled at her as they moved to the van doors. "Though I have to point out that serial killers tend to lie, so I don't know that I can take your promise seriously."
Being a woman, Dahlia would have had similar admonishments for someone else. But she trusted her empathy, and Grady wasn’t dangerous. Not to her, anyway. Nor did he have anything to fear from her. Except maybe some unresolved sexual tension when they finally parted company for the night. She laughed a bit as she unlocked the doors and they climbed into the front of the packed van. “I’ll just have to prove myself then, I guess,” she said. Once they were settled and Dahlia had cranked the van to life and adjusted the heat, she pulled her phone out to open up her Instagram and scroll down through a few posts. She found shots of a fairly recent piece she’d done for a friend in Charlotte, the painting of a large nude woman splashing in a pool of water, surrounded by trees and sunlight, a small waterfall behind her, little bits of light that might’ve been fairies dotted amongst the trees. The detail wasn’t quite photo-realistic, but it was intricate, the whole piece just radiating magical joy. “I left this one with the model, it was for a friend, but here’s an example of what I do,” she said, offering her phone out to Grady with a smile.
Grady took her phone and studied the painting. He wasn't an art critic by any means so he didn't have anything insightful or profound to discover and tell her about. But he certainly saw the talent and Grady had to resist the urge to start scrolling to find more. Or maybe just figure out her username so he could ask Jen to help him find the account himself. Hopefully that wasn't too weird or creepy. Grady was sure Jen would tell him if it was. "This is really great," he said, glancing over at Dahlia. "It's beautiful, actually. I don't think I could even master paint by numbers, let alone do something like this." He paused and then cocked a brow. "Can I see a few more?"
She watched his face as he looked at her art, her senses open for his emotions too. Dahlia presented herself as having a thick skin when it came to ... well, everything, but she thrived on praise just like every other artist. Grady’s compliment rang genuine to her, and she dimpled at him when he looked at her. “Thank you,” she said first, then nodded. “Sure, scroll away. Don’t feel obligated, of course. They’re better in person, but Instagram nets me a lot of business, so.” She shrugged. There were dozens of paintings on her feed, a mixture of her silly animal portraits and more serious pieces. All of them were emotionally resonant, an attempt at capturing a feeling she’d sensed in her models. There were a lot of nudes, but it was never gratuitous or pornographic, just human. Dahlia liked to say she preferred animals in clothes and humans without. Some were joyful like the first, some darker and more sad, many with some fantastical element about them, like the fairies. Dahlia tried not to blatantly stare at Grady as he browsed, but it was hard not to.