How Sweet It Is by Kate Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

a macaron and shoved it toward his mouth. “Eat this.”
    Shrugging, he bit it straight from her hand. His eyebrows lifted, and he nodded as though pleasantly surprised.
    Glancing to her left, she met the mysterious man’s gaze as he got up. She felt goose bumps rise on her arms, and her nipples hardened. She crossed her arms, hoping he didn’t notice. She watched him walk out, both regretful and relieved.
    And intensely curious. Why didn’t he sell his art, and was it any good?
    She leaned toward Rowdy. “Tea is coming.”
    He perked up. “With little sandwiches?”
    “Order some, and excuse me for a moment.” She turned to the brunette, who lingered at the table. Moving her chair closer, Vi said, “Pardon me.”
    His lady friend looked at her, coolly. “Yes?”
    “I couldn’t help overhearing.” She smiled apologetically. “It’s a bad habit I blame on growing up with five sisters. Your friend is an artist?”
    The woman’s face clouded. “He would be if he weren’t wasting his life.”
    Vi pointed to the mobile. “May I see his work?”
    “Why?” she asked, more curious than suspicious.
    “Because I’m opening a gallery. If his work is decent, I might be interested in selling it.”
    The woman stared at her as though trying to see deep inside her. Finally, without a word, she pulled out her phone and held it out. “His work is amazing.”
    Viola took the mobile, a tingle flaring out from the pit of her stomach—a tingle of hope and excitement. The picture of the painting was beautiful in itself: strong and passionate. It brought tears to her eyes and made her lose her breath.
    She cleared her throat, holding out the mobile. “May I see another?”
    “Sure.” The brunette waved her hand. “Scroll yourself. The next several are Finn’s paintings.”
    Vi quickly swiped through the half dozen or so images, each one more brilliant than the last. She went back more slowly, taking her fill of each one. And these were just images—what would the real canvases evoke?
    She wanted him.
    His work , she corrected herself. She cleared her throat and handed the phone back. “I could sell this,” she said.
    “What’s your number?” the brunette asked without any hesitation. “I’ll message you his information.”
    Viola blinked. “Why would you do that?”
    “Because I have a feeling, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had a feeling this strong.” She looked up, obviously waiting.
    “What was the last time?” she felt compelled to ask.
    “Too long ago to dwell on.” She tapped into her phone as Viola gave her the number. “He doesn’t answer his phone. You’ll need to talk to him in person.”
    Viola’s phone buzzed, and she looked at the information. Phineas Buchanan, 5 Rue du Pont de Lodi. “He’s in France?”
    “Paris. That’s the address for his workshop.” The woman’s smile turned sly. “Visiting Paris is always a great idea.”
    “I was just thinking that,” she murmured. She studied the brunette. “Are you his girlfriend?”
    “Finn’s my best friend,” the woman said with fierce emotion. She held her hand out. “Jasmine Haley.”
    “Viola Summerhill,” she said, holding out her hand.
    “Viola, I must warn you about Finn.” Jasmine set her purse on the table and gestured to the waitress for the bill. “Do you know of Buchanan Art Selective?”
    She blinked. “Of course. They’re the largest, most successful art gallery in the world.”
    “Finn’s father owns it.” The woman handed the waitress a bill without looking at the total. “Finn was very close with his uncle Henry, who was also an artist. When Henry died, Finn blamed his father.”
    It wasn’t polite, but she had to ask. “How did Henry die?”
    Jasmine hesitated, looking away. Then she shook her head. “Finn should tell you the story. But I will tell you that the whole episode made Finn determined never to sell his art. He’s stubborn. He won’t be easily convinced.”
    “I’m stubborn,