Page 92 of Obsession

“What? Oh, yes.” I moved forward and caught Phil’s hands. “I’ll go get it now. Thank you.”

“Well, go ahead.” She squeezed my hands back. “And maybe a new dress? Something less…mangled.”

I could feel the heat blooming in my cheeks. “Right. Of course.”

As Philomena turned around, citron and gold sparkled against her all-black layers. She waved from the doorway. “Off you go, dear.”

I ran back to the frame room, but Blake had erased any proof we’d been in there. In fact, it was too neat.

He’d cleaned off the table, even so far as dumping scraps in the correct recycling bins.

I didn’t know quite what to think about that, so I backed out and closed the door once more. I scooped up my iPad from the empty pedestal and the butterflies returned to nest in my belly.

My sculpture would be there for everyone to see.

Tonight.

Before I lost my nerve, I escaped the Cove Room and dropped the iPad into the charging rack. I pulled out my purse from under the desk and ran into Jax again on the way.

“Where’s the fire, Grace?” He folded his arms. “Actually, looks like the fire has already been put out.”

“Jax.”

He lifted one finger off his forearm. “Hair is a bit wilder, cheeks flushed, and there’s a whole lot less stress in those shoulders.”

“Shut up, Jax.”

He laughed. “I’m jealous. And if it was the same guy who just glowered at me on the way by not five minutes ago, then I’m thinking you need to go for another round. He’s still wound up.”

I blew out an exasperated breath. “We are definitely not discussing this. Where’s Linda?”

He grinned. “In recovery.”

“Oh, God. You didn’t.”

He threw his head back, his chuckle throaty and delighted. “Not that kind of recovery.”

“Never know with you.” I flipped my keys around my fingers and into my palm. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

I turned around at the door, pushing it open with my butt. “To get my future.”

Chapter Thirty

Getting a three-foot glass and copper sculpture into my little car required a lot of bubble wrap, blankets, and muscle.

The ride out to my grandmother’s house, time to change and clean up—holy hurricane hair—as well as loading my precious cargo for movement took a lot more time than I’d thought.

By the time I got back to the gallery, I had twenty-five minutes to get her set up.

Phil was fluttering again. Her mouth was flapping as much as her arms now. While I’d been gone, she’d rearranged one of the rooms completely.

I rolled my eyes and hoped Linda would remember to update the gallery program. Doing the commissions would be a bitch otherwise.

I grabbed a hand truck and went back to my car, snagging one of the half dozen interns on my way out the door. The two of us got it out of my car without mishap and into the Cove Room.

Phil rushed in as we were tearing off the bubble wrap. She pushed the intern away. “Go help Linda.”

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