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“Luna,” Chelsea snapped. “Solange was quite taken when I shared the anecdote about your sale to the gentleman last night. Personally, I don’t understand all the fuss about a painting of a wolf, but he insisted on buying it.”
It angered her to have such an important moment in her life reduced to idle gossip. Silence was a weapon. She wielded it now, letting it lengthen. If they expected her to gush or fawn, they were mistaken.
“Are there more?” It was posed as a question but was nothing less than a demand.
Luna made the decision on the spot that whoever Solange was, however much money she had, she’d never get her hands on one of her paintings.Over my dead body.An icy shiver skated down her spine. Her blood ran cold, as if she’d somehow tempted fate with her vow.
“I’m sorry. It was a single piece.” She kept her gaze on the other woman and her tone level. She’d learned the art of the social lie before she’d turned eight. Pretending it didn’t matter if her parents didn’t come home for holidays or her birthday was better than receiving false sympathy or, worse, pity. If the staff had whispered behind her back about her being unnatural and cold, she’d ignored it. Eventually, the lie had become reality.
It was the first time she’d been grateful for the lesson.
Solange’s eyes narrowed. “I see.” Lips pursed, she shrugged. “Seems I wasted my time.”
“Wait.” Her boss glared at her. “You could paint another, right?” The threat was clear. If she wanted to keep her job, she’d better agree.
The bell chimed as the gallery door opened to admit another customer. Luna didn’t take her eyes off Solange. They were in a staring contest. It might be juvenile to onlookers, but some gut instinct warned not to back down from this test of wills. Both were trying to assert dominance.
I’m alpha female here, bitch.
As if she’d read Luna’s thoughts, Solange smirked and broke eye contact.
“Luna,” Chelsea snapped.
“I can’t guarantee a timeline.” Somewhere between never and eternity was more like it. She’d never taken an instant dislike to a person before today. “I paint when the muse moves me.” That was pure bullshit, but if ever a situation called for it, this one qualified.
“Hmmm. I’ll check back again soon. It was a delight meeting you.”
Luna stared at the proffered hand.It would be binding. Like making a deal with the devil.The words rang true. She took a step back, not wanting any more physical contact of any kind with the woman.
Solange’s laugh was deep and sensual. She ran her fingers along the edge of the gold chain around her neck, stopping to stroke the pendant. “So skittish. So many artistic types are.” Without so much as a goodbye, she turned on her heel and strode toward the entrance.
Luna tracked her path, like one would any poisonous snake slithering away. Tony was standing by the door. For once, he hadn’t tried to insert himself in the conversation. That made no sense, considering Solange was two of his favorite things—rich and gorgeous. Without prompting, he grabbed the handle and yanked the portal open. Solange sailed through and into a waiting black Mercedes. As soon as the driver pulled away, Chelsea grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“What the hell was that?” she whispered in a low, taut voice, presumably so the customer strolling to the back of the gallery wouldn’t overhear. All pretenses of composure and sophistication gone, she dug her fingers into Luna’s skin. Her face was pale, her forehead beaded with perspiration.
Rather than take a step back, she took one forward. “Let go of me. I’m tired of being manhandled today. First Tony, now you. As for what the hell was that, that should be my question. Who is she, Chelsea?”
“What’s gotten into you?” Her boss released her and began to pace. “Solange Dupree is a powerful woman. Not someone you want as an enemy.”
Tony wasn’t even bothering to pretend he wasn’t avidly taking note of every detail. The man was a bottom feeder. Her boss noticed and waved Luna toward the back room. “We’ll finish this in private. Take care of the client.” She jerked her head toward the woman perusing a painting. “Not one word about this to anyone, not if you want to keep your job.” After tossing out her order, she stalked off.
A hand pressed to her jittery stomach, Luna followed. Better to get this confrontation over and done.
Chelsea tossed her purse down on the work table and put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been trying to attract that woman’s interest in the gallery for years. She’s reclusive. Keeps out of the public eye. But she’s got more money than God.”
That made no sense. “How did my name come up?”
Stopping, she closed her eyes and pressed her thumb and forefinger to the inner corners. “Hell if I know. She asked about last night’s event. Next thing I knew, I was telling her the ridiculous story about your painting.”
She bit her tongue to keep from jumping on her boss. Information was more important than wounded pride, because she wasn’t wrong. Solange was dangerous. This was about more than her painting. There’d been something else underlying the entire conversation.
“She insisted on cutting our meeting short and coming back here to meet you. You have to do her a painting.”
No, she didn’t. And had no plans to, but she’d keep that bit of information to herself. What were the odds of two wealthy people becoming obsessed with the paintings at the same time? She wasn’t a big believer in coincidence. There was something else going on, and she needed to get to the bottom of it. But could she trust Kade? Did she have a choice? Of the two of them, she’d rather take her chances with him than with Solange Dupree. The woman gave her the creeps.
The dinner with Kade tonight suddenly became imperative. He seemed to have unlimited funds. If anyone could protect the second painting from Solange, it was him.
What am I thinking?Why did she have this bone-deep need to protect it? It was canvas and paint.And dreams.She shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms. Everything went back to her dreams. “I’m going home.”
