Game for Marriage (Game for It 1)

“I really don’t want them to disturb my clients.” Sheridan shook her head as she started for the front door. “How did they find out I was doing this? I didn’t publicize it.”

She swung open the door to find Willow fending off questions with a few choice words and a giant smile at the handful of photographers who waited in front of the gallery. The minute they caught sight of Sheridan standing in the doorway, they went crazy, the bright flashes blinding her so she threw up her arm to block her eyes.

“It would really be best if you guys, um…took off?” she said as Willow slipped through the barely-open front door. “I have guests coming who don’t want their privacy invaded.”

The guys ignored her request, one of them shouting, “Sheridan, Sheridan, tell us about your event tonight. Is Jared coming?”

“What? No.” She wished. That would’ve put a smile on their faces, seeing big, bad, gorgeous Jared Quinn in their midst.

Or maybe that would just put a smile on her face…

“Why isn’t he here supporting your cause tonight?” another photographer asked.

“Um…” Because she hadn’t made a big deal about it? Because it was her charity to sponsor and hers alone? She didn’t need Jared to make it a bigger and splashier event, though she wanted him there. Desperately. She was just wary of the media attention his presence brought. “It’s a small, intimate party. Invite only. Women only,” she added with a faint smile.

That sent the cameras flashing all over again. “Where’s your ring, Sheridan? You’re not wearing it!” another one shouted at her.

Oh crap. She never wore it when she painted. It was too big, too beautiful, too expensive. What if she lost it? “Um—” she started just when Willow hooked her hand around Sheridan’s arm, yanking her back into the warm, quiet gallery and the door closed with an audible click.

“Don’t keep answering them because they’ll only keep asking.” Willow shook her head, her thick-framed glasses slipping down her perfect nose. Sheridan swore her friend wore those stupid glasses just to be taken more seriously. “It looks good in here. How’s the studio?”

“Come with me.” Sheridan waved a hand as she headed into the back room. The long table used for her classes was set up, wooden tabletop easels painted in bright colors and blank canvases at the ready. A variety of bottles filled with paint, many of them in varying shades of pink, sat in the center. And litt

le sponsored goody bags filled with treats provided by local businesses sat at each chair. “What do you think?”

“Oh Sheridan, you outdid yourself this year.” Willow clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. “I love it.”

“Thanks. I definitely think it looks better than last year.” And Sheridan had been so proud of everything she’d done last year, too. This time, though, she had to agree with Willow.

She’d really outdone herself.

“I can hear the paps yelling outside.” Willow shook her head. “They’re crazy for you.”

“They follow me everywhere. I don’t know how Jared can stand it.” Sheridan frowned. She should call Harvey and ask him to get rid of them. Her event wasn’t some splashy let’s garner as much attention as possible type of party. It was quiet and subtle, and supposed to celebrate the conquering spirit of women. And give them a chance to create and lose themselves in something spiritually…freeing.

And fun. Sheridan was always about the fun when it came to her work. Whimsical and silly and cute—she wanted to share that with these women who’d suffered so much, like her grandmother had so long ago.

“Is Jared coming tonight? Bringing any friends?” Willow asked, sounding way too casual for her own good.

“No, why would he? This is a ladies’ night only,” Sheridan stressed, knowing exactly what Willow was up to. “Though I should call him and tell him to get rid of the photographers.”

The disappointment on Willow’s face was clear. A Nick spotting was so not going to happen. “That’s too bad. I bet the ladies would love to see a bunch of handsome football players invade the studio.”

“We couldn’t fit them all in here. They’re too big.” Sheridan laughed.

“I know. Isn’t that what’s so great about them?” Willow grinned. “All those hunky, muscular men, testosterone pouring off them in waves. Gorgeous as can be just standing there smiling and smelling good.”

“Sounds like someone is crushing hardcore,” Sheridan teased.

“I’m crushing on absolutely no one,” Willow said with a tilt of her head and a sniff.

“Oh, come on, I’m just joking,” Sheridan said, though she really wasn’t. But Willow ignored her.

“I’ll finish setting up the bar.” Willow had brought in her own temporary bar she used to travel around with at events. Mixing her special cotton candy cocktails for the evening, which were surely going to be a hit.

Sheridan couldn’t wait. She was helping a cause she firmly believed in, connecting with women of the community, and helping her friends expose their businesses to others. It was a win-win for all.

Despite her insisting Jared wouldn’t be there, she wished he could make a brief appearance. But he’d told her he had a prior commitment, his voice full of regret. The women who would be attending tonight would have probably enjoyed a private glimpse of Jared, just for them.