Holding out her hand for a shake, the enemy exuded a radiant internal light when she spoke. “Welcome to La Tempera! I’m Elizabeth Bennet, the gallery owner.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she replied, taking Elizabeth’s hand. “I’m Carrie Bingley.”
“Oh! The interior designer Guy mentioned.”
“Yes.” She searched the woman’s brown eyes, expecting to be recognized but wasn’t. Of course, “Lizzy” had met her as “Beanz” with dark hair and small boobs. Both she and “Elizabeth” looked entirely different now. “What a reception you put on, Mrs. Bennet.”
“Ms. I’m not married but thank you. While I’m proud of La Tempera, Gregory’s work is the draw. For him to choose us speaks volumes to Guy’s long-established reputation in the community.” She grinned, then tilted her head. “He mentioned you are interested in purchasingWith Love.”
“With Love?”
“The floral still life at the entrance of the gallery.”
“Oh no. I was just curious. It’s stunning, but I am sure out of my budget.”
“Whew. I always hate letting people down when it comes to the painting, but I will never part with it.”
“C’mon, really? Not foranyamount?” Sipping her champagne, she dissected the woman over the rim.
“Absolutely not. It’s a priceless treasure. The artist was not only my mentor, but also like a mother to me.”
“I completely understand. You must miss her terribly.”
Elizabeth smiled brightly, but she couldn’t tell if it was genuine or nervous body language signifying her desire to change the topic.
The latter confirmed when Elizabeth cheerfully asked, “Guy also mentioned that you are looking for an art broker?”
“Yes. My fiancé and I are decorating a townhouse we recently closed on in Metropolitan Hill. While he’s a traditionalist, my tastes are completely opposite, but we settled somewhere in between, or should I say, I gave in to his desire. We’re looking for an original Seurat or Wyeth.”
“Excellent choices and congratulations! When’s the big day?”
“Um ... in August.”Take that! I’m now the one wearing the ginormous iceberg intended for you.
Eyeing Elizabeth’s own mega ice when she raised her champagne glass to her lips, she breathed an internal sigh of relief.
“How exciting for you! Hopefully, we can find what you’re looking for before then. Lucky for you, your preferences are right up my alley,” Elizabeth said.
Of course they are. They’rehispreferences.
“Why don’t you come by the gallery on Wednesday afternoon with the application and we’ll work on a plan, discuss commission rate and contract details. In the interim, I’ll make some auction and private collector inquiries to see what’s on or coming up for sale.”
“That sounds great!”
Elizabeth held out her hand for a shake and smiled brightly. “Lovely talking with you, Carrie. If you have any questions about specific pieces, just find me or Guy. I’d love to send you off with something for your new home. I think your fiancé would approve.” She winked.
“I’m sure he would,” she said dryly, not meaning the paintings. Still, she couldn’t help noting that Elizabeth was nothing like she believed, but perhaps this was just an amiable business side, and the cruel heartbreaker lay hidden.
The crowd swept Elizabeth away, and for appearance’s sake, Carrie navigated the room, attempting to view each painting while enjoying a fresh glass of champagne. But something unexpected happened: she saw someone she knew standing in the back of the gallery, looking bored. Her breath caught.
She couldn’t help it, but a salacious memory flashed before her mind’s eye. I mean, really, who recalled a specific sex act from over six years ago with such exacting clarity? Someone who hasn’t had sex in four months, that’s who.
The lover from her past looked up at her, meeting her gaze.
She half-smiled.
He smiled back, then raised his glass to her.
Her sex twitched. George friggin’ Wickham. Her heart sped.
