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“Wonderful. How fast can you get here?”
I laughed. “I’ll be in within the hour.”
“Bless you. Okay, I’ll see you then. Thanks so much, Grace. You’re a lifesaver.”
She hung up before I could reply. Ever the fluttering Phil. I set my phone on my chest and stared at the ceiling. One night of work could get me at least a down payment on an apartment if I needed it. My old boss only had established artists at these showings.
Finally, a little something positive in my life.
I rolled over, plugged my phone in, and padded to my small wardrobe. I’d packed most of my things away, but my classic little black dress would do. I dug into my bin of shoes and unearthed my black and purple heels.
Yes, those would do nicely.
I got ready quickly. I pulled out the last pair of pantyhose I had. Garters were fun, but the lines of the dress were unforgiving. So, the suck-it-in hose were definitely on the menu. I only had to impress on the outside tonight.
The familiar excitement of being around art pushed away the sadness. I’d missed it. I hadn’t really allowed myself to the last few weeks, but now that I had the opportunity to do something related to what I loved most, my mood lifted.
I fluffed out my straightened hair with a few curls. Smooth, professional, and a little artsy. I’d perfected the look for the gallery for years. Easy and familiar as a Sunday walk on the beach.
I grabbed my clutch and tucked my phone inside. I added my fold-up ballerina flats, lipstick and a hair tie for when I was cleaning up, and I was ready. I pulled out my purple wool wrap and headed for the door.
On the way by, I trace a finger over the spread wings of my “Fallen Angel”. It had named itself, and I hoped like hell that I could sell her. Part of me bristled at the idea, but I knew she was meant to be shared.
She needed to be my savior.
Blowing out a breath, I locked up. It was barely after noon, but it was going to be a long day.
Four
“No, no, not there!”
I walked in to the familiar shouting that seemed to precede every gallery showing. Philomena had always been a last minute re-designer. Pedestals for sculptures were placed in a maze to promote the flow of people through the gallery.
It was a huge room with spotlights and flawless white Carrera marble stands all over. Tonight, everything smelled of apples and spice for the holidays. And…chocolate?
I glanced to the back of the gallery and shook my head. Jax. He was on his own tonight, which was odd. He was one of a trio of owners of a bakery from the nearby Salem area.
Kiss Kakes.
I’d always liked their modern take on displays. Jax, their chocolatier, was too attractive for his own good, but he was exceptionally talented. More than enough to get away with making the new girl, Linda, flutter like Phil.
He turned to me, wiping his hands on a crimson towel tucked into his dark chocolate-colored apron. That was Jax—just a little left of traditional. “Well, hello there. Long time, no see, beautiful.”
“Behave, Jax.”
He grinned and clasped my fingers, brushing a kiss at my cheek just a touch too close to my mouth. “I always behave.”
I lifted an eyebrow.
He shrugged and gave me a ridiculous, perfectly white, toothy smile. Icy blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “When I’m on the clock.” His coffee-colored hair was scraped back into a messy high bun with a few silky strands framing his equally ridiculous face. Did I mention he was too good looking for his own good?
The first time I’d met him, I’d had the same slack-jawed reaction as Linda. Some men just had that air to them. Jax b
elieved his own press a little too much for my taste.
I nodded to Philomena’s assistant. “Nice to see you again, Linda.”
The fair-haired woman was hugging her iPad to her chest. “Oh, I’m so glad you came in to help.”
