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The promotions office of the Wise Gal Gallery was a long, narrow room at the rear of the reception desk. Rylan Bennet didn’t know much about the art world, but he had soon learned that it was a luxury for visiting artists and their managers to be provided with an area of their own in which to work. He figured it was because this gallery was located in a former warehouse, where space wasn’t an issue.
Rylan seemed to be the only person involved in the prospective show who was interested in taking advantage of the hospitality provided by Bree Colton, the gallery owner. Most of the time, he had the office to himself. The situation suited him just fine, although he was aware of the curious glances directed his way by the gallery staff. They were obviously wondering what he found to do there all day, every day.
If he was going to be convincing in his role as a manager and promoter for a group of local artists, he clearly needed to work harder on his disguise. His initial goal had been to get through the door and establish contact with Bree. After all, she was the only reason he was here. But now that he had gotten to know her, he needed to maintain her trust.
Deceiving her didn’t feel comfortable to Rylan, but his old army buddy Blaine Colton had been resolute. He’d told Rylan that his kid cousin was in danger, and he needed someone he could count on to watch over her. While Blaine was in DC, getting his discharge finalized, his uncle Calvin and aunt Audrey, Bree’s parents, had contacted him.
A week ago, a gallery show at Wise Gal had been interrupted by someone throwing a brick through the full-length front window. Kendall, who was married to Decker Colton, another of Bree’s cousins, was hit in the face and seriously injured. Shaken by the incident, Bree admitted to her parents, and her brother, Trey, who was Bradford County’s sheriff, that she had been getting threatening emails. Instead of taking action, she had apparently been ignoring the problem, hoping it would go away.
Calvin and Audrey were going crazy with worry about their daughter, but according to Blaine, Bree had refused their requests to return home and stay holed up at their farm. In desperation, they had asked her cousin to find a bodyguard, someone he trusted to keep her safe. The only problem? Rylan, the person Blaine had selected to be her protector, was sworn to secrecy about his role. If Bree found out, she would point-blank refuse to let the situation continue.
Reluctantly, Rylan had agreed. Although he’d recently sold the private security consultancy he’d been running since he left the army, he had the skills and experience to watch over Bree. He also lived close to Roaring Springs. Add in the fact that he owed Blaine a few favors from their time together in Afghanistan...
The only minor difficulty had been his cover story. Fortunately, Bree’s mom had helped him out with that. Audrey Douglas Colton was an attractive African American woman, whose love for her daughter and fighting spirit shone through in equal measures. The day after Rylan had expressed his doubts about his ability to blend into an artistic setting, Audrey had called him with a solution.
“Bree’s next show is called Spirit. It’s a celebration of African American art. A friend of mine is a professor at the University of North Colorado School of Art and Design. She has a group of graduates who are looking for someone to promote their work.”
When Audrey outlined her plan for him to pose as the manager of the artists in question, Rylan had expressed his reservations. “I don’t want these people to get their hopes built up. I have nothing long term to offer them.”
“No one loses from this arrangement,” Audrey had assured him. “These young African American artists will have their work displayed in a prestigious gallery. Wise Gal is becoming very well known.” There had been a note of pride in her voice. “All I ask of you is that you do your best to promote their art to a wider audience.”
Since he was planning on being in the gallery anyway, that seemed like a reasonable request. He would have time on his hands, so he may as well use it productively. Then Rylan met Bree...and reasonable became a distant memory.
Because, for the first time in his thirty-four years, a woman had taken his breath away. He’d seen her formal picture on the gallery’s website when he had done some research. In it, she appeared cool and quirky, with a distant expression and a bohemian dress sense. In reality, she was a ray of sunshine, with a huge smile that, despite a slight shyness in her manner, quickly became a throaty laugh.
