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She leant in and offered me an air kiss. “It was a pleasure.”
I nervously sipped my drink, avoiding Grayson’s constant stare while Melanie’s eyes searched the walls.
“So…where is it?” she asked excitedly.
I smirked at her enthusiasm. “Over there.” I pointed to the large photograph on the back wall, surrounded by admirers.
Melanie manoeuvred through the gathering to get a better viewpoint, and Grayson and I followed closely behind. Deep within the crowd, his fingertips grazed my lower back and my breath hitched. He still had such an effect on my body, and he knew it.
She paused in front of the image, taking it all in. I nervously glanced up at Grayson—whose eyes were fixed on me instead of the photo—then back to Melanie and her portrait.
Melanie looked fierce amongst the snow, posing like a professional in her black couture gown. There wasn’t a strand of blonde hair out of place, or a blemish on her fair skin, creating an image of perfection. If it wasn’t for her vibrant red lips, you would almost believe the entire image was black and white.
But what made the photograph unlike any other of Melanie Warren, was the subtle sheen over her icy blue eyes and the residue of a tear that slid down her cheek, taking the tiniest amount of mascara with it. This unassuming flaw was the pivotal part of the piece, because it was a rare glimpse at the deep emotion that simmered deep beneath her compelling façade. I titled it There is no beauty without pain.
Whirling back with tears gleaming in her eyes, Melanie threw her arms around me.
I let out a relieved chuckle. “So you like it?”
“Like it? I love it,” she gushed. “Name your price.”
Faye, the gallery manager, stepped forward. “Unfortunately, this piece has already been sold.”
Melanie growled. “What? To who?”
I winced. “Don’t worry, I can have another printed for you.”
Faye skimmed over her clipboard. “This piece was sold to a…Mr. Blackwood.”
My heart stopped and I slowly turned to Melanie’s paling face. There were so many people, I didn’t even know he was there.
Grayson’s expression grew dark as he scanned the crowd. “Are you referring to Scott Blackwood?”
Faye smiled. “Yes, he was very interested in the piece.”
“More like the subject matter,” Grayson muttered as Faye moved away to make another sale.
Melanie’s hand trembled as she brought her drink to her lips.
We all spotted him at the same time, but he wasn’t alone. An attractive young brunette hung off his arm, devouring his every word. Shit.
Grayson’s hand slid around Melanie’s elbow, turning her away. “Melanie, why the fuck would you invite Scott?”
“I…I didn’t.” Her eyes glistened as she peered up at him. “I haven’t seen him since…since he left.”
He shook his head and sighed. “Maybe we should go.”
“What? No! This is Josie’s big night.”
A sharp pain radiated through my chest. “Maybe you should speak to him,” I said softly, trying to ease the situation.
Grayson’s hard gaze snapped to mine. “I need another drink,” he grumbled as he stormed towards one of the roving waiters.
“I need some air,” Melanie mumbled and headed for the door.
Before I had a chance to follow either of them, a familiar voice called my name.
“Pete!” I cried, throwing my arms around him. “Thank you so much for coming.”
