He looked at me questionably for a moment before he conceded.

"I'll see you later then," he said, turning to leave. "I'm going to get dressed and then I'll be out of here. If you come by the packhouse later, come see me."

I was stunned by this; he wanted me to walk in on him and Shirley? He was gone before I could say anything.

At some point during the day, my phone started to ring. I was busy in my studio working on some other paintings when it rang on my desk across the room. Sighing and wiping the sweat off my brow, I stood from my stool and my way across the room and to my phone.

I frowned at the number displayed on the screen; I didn't recognize it.

"Hello?" I asked, answering the phone.

"Hello, is this Mrs. Silver Crown?" Asked a man on the other end; I was still getting used to people calling me Mrs. Crown.

"Yes, this is her," I said, sitting on my desk chair.

"This is Edmond Wilson calling from Hope's Art Gallery. How are you doing Mrs. Crown?"

huge in this region. Not as big as Pandora's Bloom; but it was still pretty known. It was also one of

doing fine;

doing good; thank you for asking. I'm calling because your portrait at the auction had blown up. I'm the manager at Hope's Gallery and

rose at his

did submit some of my artwork a few weeks ago but they were rejected,"

was quiet for a

error," he said calmly. "My associate doesn't know

My frown deepened.

she working in an art

tone as he moved on from the topic of his associate. "I am willing to pay you handsomely for your artwork. We can set a

planner and a

can set something up,"

"Excellent," he replied.

***

Elliot's POV

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