e owned the place. Her red dress was a slash of color in the sea of black and white, and her laugh

essive. But his eyes never left her. I could feel the ten

le," he murmured, more

does. You should go say hello,

pout, some small act of defiance. He didn't expect encouragement. My compli

ered, before stridi

ne in my chest. This was step one. Show him

f scenery for my art, that the sterile studio was stifling me. I sugg

he floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the ci

t first. "It will

they can see a real artist at work. It's romantic, isn't it?" I used the word

ist living room. Canvases leaned against the walls, jars of brushes sat on the coffee table, and the scent of paint overpowered the expen

vited Scarlett over for a private viewing of his latest acquisitions. He want

er the transformed space. She paused, a

ith honey. "You have a new pet?" She looked dir

rilliant artist. My brilliant artist." He put his

olitely. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms.

on. It was a portrait, not of me, but of a woman with fiery red hair and a confident smile, bathed in golden light. I hadn't captured Scarlett' s face exactly, but

t with pride. He led Scarlett to it

. She saw the strategy, the game. But she couldn't call it out

harming,"

ator. He came back looking triumph

ouring himself a drink. "She sa

ng his evening with Scarlett, her laugh, the way she looked at the painting. He was thinking about his childhood with her, the long-lost connection