How Sweet It Is by Kate Perry Read Free Book Online

that Charles was seeing someone else. She’d hated it anyway.
    If only they had tequila here. She looked around, knowing the best she could hope for was sherry or champagne. Neither was strong enough to calm her nerves.
    She’d changed the course of her life today. Chloe’s too, and that worried her most—that she’d possibly disrupted Chloe’s life with what she’d done.
    Bea had been right, of course; her real estate broker Bonnie had found the perfect spot. Vi had gone to the bank and taken out a loan against the house to cover the cost of opening her gallery. Then she’d gone and signed a year lease for the space. She even knew what she’d called it: What You Will, after Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, which she’d been named for.
    With opening costs and the high rent, plus increased mortgage payments, she figured she had six months covered. Six months was a lot of time.
    It also made no difference, because if her first show flopped, no one would buy anything from her ever. Art galleries were ten a penny in London. To be successful, she needed to stand out from the first day she opened her doors.
    If she wasn’t successful, she’d lose her house.
    The entire thing was mad—she knew it. She didn’t need the lecture Bea had given her, or any of the warnings. She was taking the biggest gamble of her life.
    But none of it meant anything if she was unhappy, and today she felt more alive than she ever had. She supposed stark fear did that to a person.
    The space she’d leased was bigger than she’d wanted, but it was the one that’d felt most right. She just had to make sure she exhibited a great show. She may never have run her own business, but she’d attended enough gallery openings to know what worked, and what worked miracles.
    A miracle seemed like a tall order. She pressed a hand to her stomach.
    Sebastian had offered to help her, but she hadn’t utilized him yet—even if she decided to trust him, she had no idea how to use him. So she’d put him on hold until she could figure out what to do.
    That she’d figure it out felt very optimistic at this point.
    The waitress came over. “Can I offer you anything while you wait for your friend? Some tea or water?”
    “Do you have macarons?” she asked hopefully.
    “Certainly. I’ll bring you a selection.”
    “Thank you,” Viola murmured, not sure she could manage to eat even the biscuits.
    But when the waitress came back with a colorful selection, Viola bit into one, let the flaky meringue melt on her tongue, and sighed in pleasure. Instant bliss. She took another bite.
    “You did this painting,” the brunette sitting with the Gerard Butler look-alike said.
    Painting? Viola glanced over, unable to help herself. She tried to see what the woman was showing him on her mobile, but the angle was wrong.
    The waitress came back to the table. “Shall I bring some tea to go with that?”
    She nodded faintly at the girl, not caring. She wanted to see the man’s art.
    “Why aren’t you selling them?” the brunette demanded of her companion.
    “I don’t sell my art,” he replied, sounding matter-of-fact. “You know that.”
    Why didn’t he? She craned her neck, dying to know.
    Vi realized he was watching her. She felt her face get hot, but she tried to smile as though she weren’t listening to their private conversation.
    Fortunately, Rowdy walked in right then and drew everyone’s attention. He smiled at her as he approached, holding his arms out. “Where’s my proper hello?”
    But as she began to stand, he grabbed his chest, his eyes wide. “Crikey, woman, what have you done to yourself?”
    She stopped, touching her new hair. “Do I look bad?”
    “You were already pretty, but now you’re knock-your-socks-off stunning.” He dropped onto a seat. “Jesus. Warn a dude, why don’t you?”
    “Shh,” she hissed at him, leaning to try to hear the rest of the conversation to her left.
    “What?” Rowdy asked, looking around.
    She picked up