question. The museum had enough money left to handle the reframing and pay Leroy’s salary. It would probably also stretch to buying a few more cases of toner for the printer, meaning that she could collage directly onto the walls and finish it off with a sealant to hold the whole thing together. It would take forever, but she’d pulled more than one all-nighter in college. The end result would be worth it. “We have some money in the operating budget.”
Ian nodded. “That’s what I thought.”
Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, Violet tried not to curse. He was going to say no again, and she had no idea where she was going to go from here.
His words, when they came, weren’t what she expected. “Send Xavier the bill.”
Violet was certain that she’d misheard him. “Excuse me?”
Reaching out, he tweaked one of her curls. “You impressed me, Miss Fabre. I knew you could. I’ll foot the bill for your design.”
“Really?” she gasped. When he nodded, Violet threw her arms around his neck, hugging him hard. “Thank you!”
As soon as she realized what she was doing, she stepped back, blushing furiously. “I mean, the museum is very grateful for your generosity, Mr. Carlisle.”
His lips twitched. “In that case, perhaps the museum could do me the favor of calling me Ian.”
The gentle offer of his first name only made her blush harder. “Ian,” she repeated obediently.
“And I can call you…” He trailed off, letting the words dangle in the air.
She swiftly remembered her manners. “I’m Violet.”
“You have a keen eye for design, Violet,” he complimented her.
“I used to paint,” she confessed, the words bypassing her brain as they spilled from her lips.
Ian gave her a sharp look. “Used to?”
“It was a long time ago. College,” she deflected, wondering what had possessed her to tell him that.
He nodded. “I would be very interested in seeing your work.”
Unbidden, her mind conjured up an image of the smeared cerulean canvas still sitting on her easel. Oh, yes, a man who collected Hunter Madden’s work would be very impressed by that. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “No, you wouldn’t. It’s not at all impressive.”
He raised a speculative eyebrow, but when he spoke, he didn’t press her. “We’ll agree to disagree. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Stripping for him was one thing, but showing her work was a different level of intimacy. She’d bared her body for him, but if she showed him her paintings, she’d be baring her soul. There was no way she’d ever change her mind about doing that. “Do we have your final approval?”
His expression flickered with what looked like disappointment, but the look was gone before Violet could be certain she’d seen it at all. “You do.”
“Thank you.” Violet sighed and cracked her knuckles as Ian turned to leave. She had work to do.
Chapter 3
“Thank you. You may go in now.” Violet handed the pair of tickets back to Mr. Charles Grant and his much-younger wife after checking their names against her master list and stepped to the side to allow them access to the Madden exhibit as she pressed her clicker twice to track attendance.
The idea to host a preview night prior to the exhibit’s official opening date had come to her in the shower, and it was rapidly proving to be the best idea she’d ever had. In the art world, tremendous prestige came from being the first to discover a new artist or gallery, and she’d guessed that those same people would be happy to pay a hundred fifty dollars a head for the privilege of being among the first to see seventeen of Hunter Madden’s paintings. Judging by the wealth on display tonight, she could have easily doubled the price.
In all the years she’d worked at the Owensport Museum, she’d never seen more than a dozen people in one room at a time. Now, it was all she could do to keep a tally of how many people were in the