Page 32

When Reagan reached over to point out the flaw, Libby leaned back, pressing her shoulder to Reagan’s chest. The avalanche of desire the contact triggered was unexpected and unstoppable.

“Is it for sale?” Libby asked, fixing her in her gaze. “I’d love to say I own a piece from your early years.”

“You don’t want that. There’s much better stu over there,” she replied, her eyes drifting down to Libby’s painted lips.“Then I suppose we better get back to it,” Libby replied before putting the jug back without a second look.

As she watched Libby saunter away, she wondered if Libby felt the spark between them too, or whether she was on her own.

BY THE TIME LIBBY RETURNED TO HER HIGH-RISE CONDO OVERLOOKING

the river, she’d tried and failed to buy about a dozen pieces at Reagan’s art expo. Apparently they’d brought their own rabid fans who didn’t even leave crumbs behind.

Libby slipped into yoga pants and a sweatshirt before taking a glass of wine with her to the balcony. The tendrils of autumn were curling pleasantly around her. She was happy to trade the balmy breeze for something much less humid.

As she swirled the red wine in her glass and watched the city twinkle in the moonless night, she thought of Reagan.

Could anyone really be that nice? Having spent hours watching her interact with so many di erent kinds of people, she never dropped her act once. No matter who Reagan talked to, she treated them like they were the only person in the room and of the utmost importance.

She remembered how she’d made Freddie’s chest pu out with pride when she complimented his sculpture. Her expression was so similar to how she regarded Libby.

Concluding that she couldn’t read anything into the way Reagan seemed to look at her sometimes, she picked up her phone and shot o a text.

Libby: Thank you again for letting me come to the studio.

Judging by all that talent, you must be one hell of a teacher!

It was a while before Reagan replied. As she sipped her wine, Libby searched for one of her favorite videos. Eckhart Tolle telling her to stop searching for happiness helped soothed her overthinking. At least for a while.

Reagan: Thank you for coming! I’ll have to give you a lesson so you can decide for yourself.

The sight of Reagan’s name interrupting her video made her smile.

Libby: I’ll have to take you up on that sometime.

With her finger hovering over the winky face emoji, Libby stopped herself.

Reagan: I hope you do. It will give you more material for your social media pages. You don’t want to go too long without posting or THEY will discover our secret.

She chugged her wine before responding. The charade. Of course.

Libby: I don’t know if my family is going to fall for photographic evidence.

After sending the text, she stared at it, surprised by her own admission.

Reagan: Have they been asking to meet the love of your life?? A reasonable request I suppose lol. How are you getting around that?

Libby: Oh, I didn’t tell you? You have a HUGE art show coming up. It’s keeping you incredibly busy.

Reagan: Dang! Did I forget about it

again?? Where’s my head?

When is this event exactly? I should mark it on my calendar so it doesn’t keep slipping my mind.

Chuckling, Libby finished her drink before the chilly air kicked her o the balcony. Skipping the gorgeous but sti sofa, she slipped into her bedroom and under the covers.

Libby: You are up to your eyeballs in clay for the foreseeable future. Or until I can convince my grandmother that we’re legit.

Reagan: How hard can that be?