Page 101 of Angel

My gaze fell on the enticing skin peeking above Roxy’s off-shoulder black-and-white striped dress.

Her feet were in high black heels with a red tip.

It was a simple ensemble but stunning nonetheless.

Without thinking, I bent and kissed her on her nape.

She jolted and whirled around, ready to unleash violence.

‘Angel, honey,’ Roxy said, her face shifting from annoyance to warmth as she spotted me.

The endearment sent a jolt through me.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Came to see your world, beautiful,’ I said, tugging her close for a quick hug that surprised even me.

‘For real?’

I arched a brow.

‘As bona fide as it gets. Give me a tour of the place, treat me as you would a paying client.’

Her delight showed as she beamed at me.

She guided me past several canvases, explaining the different artists and techniques.

We stopped at the rear wall, and my stride halted.

The piece was one of hers: a graphite drawing of a young woman’s face, so evocative it sent a lurch through me.

The image so resembled Roxy that it sent a lurch through me.

‘Who is it?’

‘It’s inspired by an old photo I found in my grandmother’s house after she passed. I think it’s her when she was about 18.’

‘Stunning.’

The textured shading and intricate lines captured an emotion that captivated me.

I cleared my throat, turning to her.

‘I’ll take it.’

Roxy blinked, her jaw dropping.

‘What? Angel, you don’t have to do that.’

‘It’ll be perfect in the studio, right?’ I asked.

She smiled, her eyes softening. ‘That’s the ideal spot, actually. It’s one space we’ve yet to fill.’

Seeing the pure joy she experienced as I connected with her art filled my chest.

It felt like a massive win.

‘It’s on show for another week,’ she told me, touching my arm. ‘I can put a hold on it, and we can collect it when the exhibition ends.’