his strong body intrigued her. Okay, mostly his sexy body. And another lie. She swallowed, realizing for that maybe the first time ever, Lance’s body wasn’t her primary attraction. She actually wanted to get to know him. Obviously the apocalypse was nigh.
“I wouldn’t know. I saw my nana on summer breaks, and only sporadically.”
“Your parents didn’t love you?” It surprised her. Lance seemed like the kind of guy who grew up with two solid parents, a white picket fence, and a dog.
He shrugged. “Oh, they loved me, but they had a funny way of showing it.”
“What do you mean?” She felt strangely closer to him knowing they’d both grown up with unconventional families, though she was pretty sure hers took the crazy prize. She also wanted to find the little lonely boy and soothe him.
“They loved me, but it came with expectations I never could meet. It took me a long time to give up even trying.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but he looked done discussing it, so she let it drop. She had a ton of work to do and calls to make if she was going to get her show ready on time. First call, to Lacey Klein, artist of Club Lily . She’d been dreading this moment all day and prayed Lacey would take it well. No artist wanted to hear her work had been defaced, and Lacey could be temperamental, even at the best of times.
She picked up the phone to dial.
Across the office, Lance picked up a glossy, gorgeous flyer she’d designed herself. “The Rose Gallery presents…?” he said, examining it closely.
“Shh.” She waved a shushing finger at him.
“This is beautiful.”
“Thanks, now be quiet.”
He grinned and zipped his lips.
“Hello.”
“Lacey? Hi, this is Arianna Rose.”
“Hey Ari. What’s up? How’s show prep going? Got the invitations and flyers. Gorgeous, hon, gorgeous. You should be an artist, too, you—”
“Lacey.” Ari had to cut her off. From experience she knew that if Lacey was in one of her gregarious moods—meaning the painting was going well—then she could talk a mile a minute for a marathon. If the painting wasn’t going well, look out. From Lacey’s bubbly enthusiasm, she’d guess all was well over at the Klein studio.
“What’s going on?” Lacey said.
“I have some bad news.”
“Oh, no, don’t tell me you’re canceling the show, because I already sent a ton of emails out and I put it up on my website. There’s this cute guy I met and I invited him…”
“No, no. The show’s not canceled, but you may want to back out when you hear my news.”
“What happened?” Lacey’s voice sobered.
“The gallery was broken into last night.” She ignored Lance’s raised eyebrows. There was no need to remind Lacey that her father was wanted by the FBI and the SEC. “ Club Lily was defaced and more than likely damaged permanently.”
Silence on the other end.
Ari let her client absorb the news for a few heart-wrenching moments. “Of course, the gallery insurance will make reparations and I will lower my commission on any other painting you sell at the show.”
“It’s not the money, Ari.”
Oh, shit, it sounded like Lacey was crying. “Of course, it’s not about the money,” Ari said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. Comforting voices were a rarity in the Rose household; she hoped she got it right.
“It’s never about the money. I loved that painting. It was my opus, my everything.”
“Uh, I understand. I’m so sorry.” Lacey was two years younger than she was. How could she have an opus? But there was no arguing with genius. Whatever Arianna was lacking in that elusive X-factor of artistic talent, Lacey had it in spades.
“Was anything else damaged?”
“Nothing, only Club Lily .”
“I knew it,” Lacey wailed. “It’s a sign.”
“What kind of sign?” Ari asked, wishing she’d put the phone on speaker to get Lance’s reaction. His no-nonsense-officer take on the wailing, excitable
“I wouldn’t know. I saw my nana on summer breaks, and only sporadically.”
“Your parents didn’t love you?” It surprised her. Lance seemed like the kind of guy who grew up with two solid parents, a white picket fence, and a dog.
He shrugged. “Oh, they loved me, but they had a funny way of showing it.”
“What do you mean?” She felt strangely closer to him knowing they’d both grown up with unconventional families, though she was pretty sure hers took the crazy prize. She also wanted to find the little lonely boy and soothe him.
“They loved me, but it came with expectations I never could meet. It took me a long time to give up even trying.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that, but he looked done discussing it, so she let it drop. She had a ton of work to do and calls to make if she was going to get her show ready on time. First call, to Lacey Klein, artist of Club Lily . She’d been dreading this moment all day and prayed Lacey would take it well. No artist wanted to hear her work had been defaced, and Lacey could be temperamental, even at the best of times.
She picked up the phone to dial.
Across the office, Lance picked up a glossy, gorgeous flyer she’d designed herself. “The Rose Gallery presents…?” he said, examining it closely.
“Shh.” She waved a shushing finger at him.
“This is beautiful.”
“Thanks, now be quiet.”
He grinned and zipped his lips.
“Hello.”
“Lacey? Hi, this is Arianna Rose.”
“Hey Ari. What’s up? How’s show prep going? Got the invitations and flyers. Gorgeous, hon, gorgeous. You should be an artist, too, you—”
“Lacey.” Ari had to cut her off. From experience she knew that if Lacey was in one of her gregarious moods—meaning the painting was going well—then she could talk a mile a minute for a marathon. If the painting wasn’t going well, look out. From Lacey’s bubbly enthusiasm, she’d guess all was well over at the Klein studio.
“What’s going on?” Lacey said.
“I have some bad news.”
“Oh, no, don’t tell me you’re canceling the show, because I already sent a ton of emails out and I put it up on my website. There’s this cute guy I met and I invited him…”
“No, no. The show’s not canceled, but you may want to back out when you hear my news.”
“What happened?” Lacey’s voice sobered.
“The gallery was broken into last night.” She ignored Lance’s raised eyebrows. There was no need to remind Lacey that her father was wanted by the FBI and the SEC. “ Club Lily was defaced and more than likely damaged permanently.”
Silence on the other end.
Ari let her client absorb the news for a few heart-wrenching moments. “Of course, the gallery insurance will make reparations and I will lower my commission on any other painting you sell at the show.”
“It’s not the money, Ari.”
Oh, shit, it sounded like Lacey was crying. “Of course, it’s not about the money,” Ari said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. Comforting voices were a rarity in the Rose household; she hoped she got it right.
“It’s never about the money. I loved that painting. It was my opus, my everything.”
“Uh, I understand. I’m so sorry.” Lacey was two years younger than she was. How could she have an opus? But there was no arguing with genius. Whatever Arianna was lacking in that elusive X-factor of artistic talent, Lacey had it in spades.
“Was anything else damaged?”
“Nothing, only Club Lily .”
“I knew it,” Lacey wailed. “It’s a sign.”
“What kind of sign?” Ari asked, wishing she’d put the phone on speaker to get Lance’s reaction. His no-nonsense-officer take on the wailing, excitable
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