The Revelation of Light and Dark (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 1)

All of it is very depressing to me and if I were even to attempt buying the shop from Rich, it would be incredibly difficult to achieve.

My inclination at this point is to back away and let Rich sell to someone else. I can hope to keep my job and position, and maybe nothing will change.

“Hey, you,” I hear from the doorway, glancing up to see Fallon. “Doors are opening in five minutes, and I’d like you by mine and Blain’s side when they do.”

I nod, slipping my phone in the bag and rising from the couch.

Fallon surveys me, eyes running the length of my body. She moves toward me, adjusting a few locks of my hair that loosely frame my face. After checking the cuff at the end of the braid draped over my shoulder, she finally nods with approval. “You are truly stunning tonight, Finley.”

“Thank you,” I reply with a stab of pleasure in my chest. I’ve never felt stunning as she just called me. On some days, I might be passably pretty, but mostly I’m probably just unique in the way a sore thumb would stand out. Pretty or not. Stunning or drab. Either or.

I’m just Finley.

I’m just me.

“Listen,” Fallon says, putting her hands on my shoulders. Her palms are cold, and it causes me to shiver. “Tonight is an opportunity for you.”

Tilting my head, I ask, “Opportunity?”

“To gain some culture and socialization. You need to meet people outside your little circle.”

“I like my circle,” I say, fondly thinking of Rainey, Myles, and Adira, and also of Rich, who will be less of a presence in my life soon.

“Yes, but there’s nothing wrong with expanding it. And who knows, maybe you’ll even meet someone tonight.”

“Someone?”

“A man,” she says with a laugh. “Or a woman if that’s your thing. Is that your thing?”

I shake my head, but whether I like women or men is beside the point. “I’m not here to find a date, Fallon. I’m not interested.”

Fallon scoffs, letting her hands fall away from me. “Seriously… when is the last time you even went out on a date?”

My mind races, flitting back through the weeks and then months. I had sort of a fling with a guy in a band before Christmas, but that was fun and short-lived—exactly what we’d both been looking for.

Instead, I shrug. “I’m too busy running One Bean. With what little time I have left, I like spending it in the gym.”

Fallon wrinkles her nose. She’s incredibly non-athletic, and she doesn’t understand how I love getting into the gym to practice my mixed martial arts. There is no stress reliever like throwing punches, kicks, and elbows. It’s something my dad started me on when I was about ten years old. First, it was karate, and then I tried jujitsu. When I was older, I moved into the realm of mixed martial arts, enjoying learning the various disciplines involved. Moreover, I love sparring with other fighters, testing out my skills. There’s empowerment in being able to defend myself if the need were to arise.

“Hmm,” is all Fallon replies with. It’s that low hum of disapproval I’ve heard often over my life. “Well, let’s get going. I have a show to open.”

The next hour is a whirlwind of activity. The gallery has been transformed into a magical place with focused lighting on the art pieces, beautiful strains of music in the background, and delicious food. Fallon keeps me by her side as she introduces me to more people than I could possibly keep track of. It could be a pleasant time, except Blain is by her side as well, and I have to suffer his boorish behavior, which causes my headache to increase.

For only the second time since Fallon and Blain started dating, I meet his parents again. They give air kisses to Fallon, and they pretend like they don’t remember meeting me before. I’m relieved when they move off to mingle.

“Oh, there’s Michael,” Fallon gushes, grabbing my wrist. “I’ve wanted to introduce you.”

She drags me across the slick floor, leaving Blain behind—thank God—and I pray I don’t go down in a tumble of limbs and exposed leg because I’m pretty damn wobbly in these heels. They’ve got to be a good five inches with a bit of platform under the front part, which is about two inches higher than I normally wear if I were to go out.

Internally, I groan as she pulls me along, but I knew this was coming at some point. I figured Fallon had someone in mind she wanted me to meet, thus her pointed comment earlier about me needing to get out and date.

Fallon weaves me through the crowd, then I see a man who isn’t dressed in finery like the rest of us. He has on faded jeans, hiking boots, and a flannel shirt. He’s tall and lean with longish brown hair that’s messy and unkempt. He’s talking to a man and woman about a beautiful abstract painting on the wall that isn’t in the bold, primary colors that are often seen, but instead in subtle creams, barely-there grays, and muted yellows.