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

I’m so captivated by the painting that I miss the beginning of the introductions, tuning in when Fallon mentions my name to the group.

“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head and smiling sheepishly. “I was so taken by the painting that I didn’t catch everyone’s names.”

Fallon gives a light laugh, then introduces me again. The couple—an older, wealthy man and woman—smiles graciously and then bid their farewells as they move on to look at more artwork.

Then Fallon says, “Finley… this is Michael Varrons. He’s the artist who did this painting.”

Oh, wow. Okay, yeah… so that explains why he can get away with dressing the way I wish I were dressed right now.

“So you like it, huh?” Michael asks as he sticks his hand out to me.

We shake, and I can’t help but notice how cute he is. Maybe a few years older than Fallon and me, but with his stubbled face and dimpled smile, he’s totally charming.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, turning to give it another critical regard.

“Well, your sister seems to think it’s worth seven thousand dollars, but I’m sure we can convince her to give you a discount if you really want it?” His smile broadens, the dimples going deeper.

We all laugh, including Fallon. But then she decides to abandon me, putting a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “I’ll leave it up to you two to work out the details.”

And with that, she drifts away to circulate among her patrons and potential buyers.

When I look back at Michael, I immediately set the record straight. “I manage a coffee shop. Just so you know I could never afford this no matter how steep the discount.”

Michael leans in, glances at Fallon across the room, and then brings his eyes to mine. “That’s okay. Between you and me, I don’t think it’s worth the price she’s asking.”

I give a chastising shake of my head. “Now, there you’re wrong. My sister knows her art and the value of such in Seattle. If she says it’s worth seven thousand, then that’s what she’ll get for it.”

“Are you flirting with me?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“Not yet,” I reply with actual flirtation in my tone. Maybe Fallon was right. Perhaps I need to get back into the dating scene, and Michael is handsome, accomplished, and seems to like me.

For the next hour, I stand with Michael by his painting as patrons circulate. He’s duty-bound to talk to them, explain his process, his medium, and the story within his art. He includes me in the discussions, and yes, I’ll admit… I actually enjoy myself. In his down moments where no one is complimenting his work, he and I joke and laugh, and, admittedly, some of it is because of the two glasses of champagne I have. I’m not much of a drinker.

“So,” I hear my sister drawl from behind me, then I feel her arm around my shoulder as she joins Michael and me again. “You two seem to be getting along famously.”

I blush because it’s so obvious Fallon is trying to set us up. But she doesn’t belabor the point because she turns to Michael. “I sold your painting.”

“What?” he exclaims, his eyebrows shooting up.

She grins, then nods toward the counter where her assistant is handling the monetary transactions. The couple he was talking to when we first walked up is standing there, the man pulling a credit card out of his wallet.

“And…” Fallon drawls as her arm falls away from my shoulder and goes to Michael’s. She gives him a little side hug. “They want to talk to you about commissioning a piece for their dining room.”

“You’re kidding?” he mutters in disbelief.

“I’m not,” she replies, giving him a tiny push in their direction. “I suggest you go talk to them about it. Finley will be here waiting for you when you’re done.”

Michael nods, looking like a giddy kid. He practically trots over to the couple who bought his art.

“You two look really good together,” Fallon says out of the side of her mouth.

“Oh, stop it,” I reply, but secretly, I have to admit Michael seems like a great guy. Handsome, funny, smart, and accomplished. Oh, and he likes jeans and flannel. Bonus points.

I watch, head tilted, as Michael talks to his new patrons, shaking their hands and giving what looks to be profuse thanks.

But then Fallon’s hand grips mine so hard I feel like my fingers are going to break. My head whips to the side to stare at her, but she’s not paying me a bit of attention. Her eyes are wide and her mouth hanging open with shock as she gapes at the entrance to the gallery.

“Oh my God,” she gasps, her other hand coming to flutter at her neck. “I can’t believe it’s him.”

Him who?

My head swivels in the direction of her awe. A man stands there, shaking hands with several people.