Suddenly, a familiar face moved in beside me.Lucas.The man my momma thought would be perfect for me. He wasn’t supposed to be here tonight.
My mother.
“Hi, Rose,” he greeted with a smile that seemed genuine—or at least as genuine as a smile could be on a man who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“Hey. I missed you at the marina,” I admitted, which was funny, because seeing him there was the entire reason my momma had planned the evening.
Lucas offered a slow, unconvincing nod. “Some things required my attention at the office,” he muttered, the explanation left unexplained.
Why would a dirty cop need to stay late at the office?Not my business, I reminded myself.
“Well, it’s good you’re here tonight.”
“Your mother was insistent I come,” he admitted.
“I see. Well, have you ever considered taking a piece home with you?” I gestured vaguely at the painting hanging on the white wall. It wasn’t the most profound question, but it was something.
His gaze finally snapped to mine, and a humorless scoff escaped his lips. “Pay an arm and a leg for paint? Not likely, Rose.”
For ...paint? My eyebrows shot up in disbelief. Was the man broke, or stupid?
My eyes fluttered open, the harsh gallery lights exacerbating my annoyance. “It’s not about how much money you have—it’s about having the eyes to see it. Which you clearly don’t.”
He blinked then chuckled. “Whoa there. It’s just paint. Pretty pictures, sure, but there are better investments out there—wouldn’t you agree? High-interest savings accounts, a well-diversified stock portfolio ...” His voice trailed off. “Though, come to think of it, there was this Isabella Rossellini painting I once saw at a private auction in Chicago.”
My jaw dropped. “Isabella Rossellini? Wasn’t she the one who got put in jail for vandalism?”
“Yeah, that’s her. Some big-shot CEO bought all her work. It was all he ever talked about if you shared a glass of scotch with the man.”
“And where is she now?” I asked, curious. I suppose only people in the know were aware of anything.
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I listened to him explain the details of Isabella’s sentence and how she should’ve been able to post bail. To my surprise, I found myself laughing a few times. Genuine laughs too—the kind that bubbled up from my gut and escaped in snorts. Maybe he wasn’tthatbad. Sure, his tie was questionable, and he could be a little awkward, but there was a decent man underneath it all.
That didn’t mean I felt a spark with him. Not even a single flutter of the heart. Being with a man like Lucas would feel a lot like settling.
Ugh, that made me feel terrible, but I didn’t really have any other option.
After all, my mother would eventually get her way. She always did.
The night continued on for hours before the guests eventually began to trickle out. The remaining staff, bathed in the dim glowof the emergency exits, hustled around the empty space. Soon, the only sounds were the soft hum of the ventilation and the rhythmictap, tap, tapof the security guard’s nightstick against the tile.
Finally, the broad-shouldered uniformed man I’d been waiting for shepherded off the last of the priceless paintings.
“Excuse me,” I called after the guard, my voice echoing through the silence. “Could you tell me which room they took the paintings to?”
“Sorry, ma’am,” he rumbled. “Protocol. Can’t share that information with anyone who isn’t authorized personnel.”
I felt a surge of frustration. “Look,” I started, “I understand security and all, but come on—look at me.”
His gaze lingered on my outfit: a simple dress, more suited for a gallery opening than a heist. Did I really look like a common art thief? These paintings were twice the size of me.
He chuckled. “Gotta follow the rules.”
Suddenly, a voice pierced the air above his. “Oh, don’t worry!” It was Margot, and she was coming toward us with a jingling keychain clutched in her hand. “She can follow me. Let’s go, dear.”
Relief washed over me, warm and welcome.
Margot took me down the hall, leading me at a brisk pace toward the far east side of the gallery, which felt like miles away in the heels I was wearing. I was going to have blisters, I knew.
