Page 81 of Obsession

“I know, sweetie. And we all miss Annabelle. I applaud your need to go out on your own.”

I swallowed a lump at her name. “I know you do.” Even though I was drowning on my own and missed my grandmother so much that my heart literally ached.

“I could really use your help at the gallery tonight. The RSVP notices have tripled this year.”

“Oh, wow. That’s wonderful.”

“Definitely for sales, but I could really use all hands-on deck. Your commission would be very generous.”

Magic words.

I certainly perked up. For sure, I could use the money. “Absolutely. You can count on me.”

“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 in my phone, 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 as familiar as a Sunday walk on the beach.

A bit later, 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 traced 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 I was already certain it was going to be a long day.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“No, no, not there!”

I walked into the familiar sounds of 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?

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