Page 38 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

“Not a lick,” Linc said, giving her a congratulatory hug.

Bets was next in line for a hug. “Thanks. I needed some good news after meeting with that jerk. Can you draw up a final design so we can show the board, including our nonvoting members?”

Sophie nodded. She understood the purpose of nonvoting members. Political backers and power players who could give an artist or the institution CYA. Cover your ass. “I’ll finalize it today and call Taylor.I think an exclusive might be just the thing.”

“That’s a terrific idea,” Bets seconded.

“People would love to hear Eoghan’s story,” Sophie added. “He’s one of my heroes already, taking up art at ninety-three. Like Grandma Moses. I’ve told him that I think he might be ready to show some of his ceramics and paintings at the gallery level.”

“Perfect,” Linc said, tapping the front of the newspaper. “All right, now I need to call my investigator to see what’s really under Malcolm Coveney’s dress, so to speak.”

“I dare Mary Kincaid to show her face with him,” Bets said, her blue eyes flashing. “The whole village will want to run her out of town for cozying up with that Watertown hustler with his ten gold rings and his Rolex.”

“Ten!” Sophie exclaimed.

Linc rolled his eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like it, and that’s saying something. That man has definitely been nicely paid. Well, we’ll let you get back to work. I know you’ll need to go pick up Greta before long.”

She was already looking at her drawings. “If it wasn’t her first day of school, I’d have Sandrine pick her up. But it was hard enough to leave her this morning, and I want to be there with open arms for my little girl.”

Bets smiled. “She’s lucky to have you, Sophie.”

She gave a self-deprecating smile. “Liam seems to have turned out pretty well. The pirate look is hot. Your influence?”

That had Linc snorting out a laugh.

Bets shot him a look. “I don’t know where he gets that from. But it’s not like he tries, despite all his friends teasing him about being an extra inPirates of the Caribbean. He just seems to embody those qualities.”

“Adventure,” Sophie added. “Freedom. Fearlessness. A zest for life. Something we all want deep down, I think.”

“Well, hell,” Linc drawled, “if we stand around anymore, God knows what you’ll be saying about me, Sophie. We’ll let you get on with it. And thanks.”

“Yes, thanks,” Bets said, her eyes bright. “It’s good to have more allies.”

“For me too.”

She watched as they left the shed, and then she looked back at her drawing. Yes, you could feel the love.

She picked up her phone and called her friend atThe Times.

CHAPTERNINE

He had to have his final outline for the arts program done by Friday.

Usually, Jamie wouldn’t be intimidated by such a thing, but it was the first week of school. He’d called Bets up at lunch to tell her so after receiving her text. She’d been understanding, of course, but urgency was in the wind after their meeting with Malcolm Coveney. So Friday it was.

Worse. A reporter fromThe New York Timeswanted to interview him!

Him. Jamie Fitzgerald.

What in the world was he to say to a hotshot reporter from Manhattan?

He wasn’t a man of many words outside the schoolroom, and even then, he let the schoolwork speak for itself at times. A child needed to learnhowto understand and solve things. He or she couldn’t always be spoon-fed information.

But Sophie had sent a message to him after Bets, telling him to come over after school so she could help him with his outline and give him some pointers on speaking with the press. It was some silver lining. He’d prefer to have another date with her, but he’d spend time with her any way he could. Even if it was for work. Seeing her when she picked up her daughter wasn’t enough.

As he drove, he told himself he had the skills to handle the interview. He would listen to and learn from Sophie. He would even ask for a practicum and have her ask him mock questions. All he could do was prepare as best he could. Even so, the pressure to help the arts center lodged a rare hard ball of stress in his sternum.

The sight of Sophie waving to him from his front window was welcome enough to temporarily banish his worries. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail like she meant business, but the warm smile on her face as she stopped waving and touched her heart had everything going quiet inside him. His heart filled with the new, surprising sensation of fullness and warmth.

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