“Are you the artist?” the older woman drawled in equally hushed tones.
Piper laughed and pointed to her name badge. “No, I’m a guest.”
“You can’t be too careful at these things.” The woman touched Piper’s hand lightly as if to reassure her. “I’d hate to offend anyone, after all beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but apart from the vibrancy of the colors in this one…no, it’s not for me. I’d rather give the ticket price straight to charity.”
Piper bent to see what was on the ultra-tiny price tag and snapped back straight with shock. This was another world. It had to be with numbers that big for something that looked like an elephant had painted it, but she couldn’t let on she was a financial fish out of water. Neither could she let on that she didn’t know the whole occasion was about raising money for charity because that would make her look like an ignorant freeloader. “It is…vibrant,” she said diplomatically. “Perhaps in the right environment, a modern loft conversion with plain white walls, maybe.”
“Or one of those cheap hotel lobbies,” the other woman said with a snort of amusement. She trained her steely gray eyes on Piper’s earrings. “Give me a decent landscape any day, something with the sea in it. I miss the coast living up here in the mountains.”
“I know what you mean,” Piper said with a wistful sigh and absentmindedly ran her fingers over the smooth surface of her bangle as she stole a glance at the woman’s name badge. “I try to get down to Florida as often as I can, Fiona, but it’s a long way.”
Fiona smiled and stretched out a hand toward Piper’s face. “That must be where you got those gorgeous earrings.” She felt one between her fingertips. “Silver?”
“Solid. I can’t wear plate, just pure base meals like gold, silver, and platinum.”
“Oh, me neither. Besides, who on earth would want cheap alloy jewelry anyway? I’d rather be unadorned.”
“Exactly,” Piper said with feeling and turned her attention back to the painting.
“Now tell me,” Fiona murmured, “where does a lady who has far too much jewelry already direct her husband to buy a pair of earrings just like yours? And that amazing bangle, the colors are perfect for me.”
“Ah, this is kind of awkward…”
“Florida somewhere? Where you go on vacation?”
“Sort of.”
“Don’t be mean, tell me! And I swear that if we both turn up to a function wearing identical stuff, I’ll take mine off immediately.”
“Okay, you can’t have something exactly the same because all the pieces are unique, formed from real shells. Shells gathered in the Sanibel area of Florida.”
She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. “Even better.”
“And…and it’s me who makes them.” There was a loaded silence and Piper cringed inwardly. She felt so crass pitching herself like this and she wasn’t even sure she’d intended to. It just kind of happened. “But please don’t feel—”
Fiona visibly fizzed with excitement. “Let’s swap business cards. You do have one on you?”
Piper flicked open her purse. “Oh, um, maybe.” Totally shameless. “Yes! What a piece of luck there’s one in here.”
“This is amazing. If all your pieces are unique, I can tell all my friends. Do you do bespoke?”
“Yes, I do. Have a look on my website when you have time and you’ll get a good idea of what I offer. I have a small shop downtown as well, but space is limited so there’s not a full range on display.”
“You’ve made my day.” Fiona took Piper’s card and slipped it into her own purse. “I have some diamond earrings that I bought on a whim and I really don’t like them. Could you break them down and incorporate them into a new design? Maybe with some pearls?”
“Of course I can, and you’ve really cheered my day up, too.” She glanced down at the other woman’s card. “And the next time I need some interior design advice…”
Oh hell, this was the best networking event ever. Pretty interior things were one of her favorite sidelines, so if she could expand out that way her business would boom. With any luck, Fiona wouldn’t be able to resist some of her driftwood and coral pieces when she browsed the website or dropped by the store. And then she remembered what she’d be doing over the next few weeks. “Although I may not be at my shop in person very often in the next few weeks, as I have…a special commission I’m working on.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie; commission sounded a lot more believable than blackmail.
“I must find my husband. He’ll be delighted to have a few gifts he knows I’ll like for my birthday next month. And our anniversary! What’s the point in marrying a stockbroker if you can’t help him redistribute his bonus money, huh?”
Piper shook her head and grinned. What was the point in marrying a stockbroker besides his bank balance? A few things sprang to mind like loving his innate integrity, good looks, sense of humor, and ideally consummate skill in bed. She clearly had a long way to go before she could ever feel at home with people like this, but doors were opening and bright shafts of possibility were shining through.
Like it or not, she had Matt DeLeo to thank for that.
She looked around to see if she could spot Matt. She wanted to share her good news and, even if it stuck in her throat, to thank him. All the thoughts she’d been having about stockbrokers pointed to the fact that he wasn’t such a bad guy after all. A drifter, maybe, but he was no swindler. He had old-fashioned values deep down beneath the strange combination of tattoos and sharp suits. And he was really nice to her cat.
Suddenly a finger jabbed into her shoulder and she heard a cringe-worthy familiar male voice. “What you doing here, Red?”
She spun around sharply enough to spill a few drops of champagne on her jacket. Cold blue eyes, blond wavy shoulder-length hair, and a not very good shave greeted her. Her stomach felt like a boulder had been dropped on it. “Stanley.”
“You’re looking very good for a girl who should be mourning the love of her life.”
“Are you suggesting I should still be in pieces because you dumped me for a dimwit who models herself on an overgrown Oompa-Loompa?”
“Oompa-Loompa?” Stanley laughed. “Oh, gotcha, but Millie’s tan is real.”