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  Marti Calvetti, Rocco’s grandma, is a wizard in the kitchen. It’s the reason she owns one of the most popular Italian restaurants in Manhattan. The first time I had a plate of spaghetti at Calvetti’s, I confessed that it was the best I ever had. I made Marti promise to never tell my mom I said that.

  Marti has been bringing food over on an almost daily basis. Since my sister met Rocco, she’s been well-loved and well-fed.

  “Are you going to head out to get more ornaments soon?” Dexie checks the watch on her wrist. “I can walk to the craft store with you before I go to work, or you could join me for the day?”

  She’s been joking that I should stick around Manhattan and take on a job helping with her purse line. Dexie Walsh, the brand, has grown by leaps and bounds since she launched it.

  I ignore the offer to shadow her in her studio. “I have to get started on painting ornaments. I’m falling behind on orders.”

  She tosses me a knowing nod. “I hear you. I’m behind too.”

  I can’t tell if that’s a subtle hint that she genuinely wants my help. Since I know little about how to craft cute handbags out of leather, I make her an offer I know she won’t be able to resist.

  “I’ll cook tonight.” I smile. “How does salmon, parmesan-crusted potatoes, and a spinach salad sound?”

  She rubs her belly through the fabric of the red and white print dress she’s wearing. “It sounds like a dinner I’d really enjoy tomorrow. We have that thing tonight, remember?”

  I sigh, hoping that the ‘we’ she’s referring to includes Rocco and not me. “What thing?”

  Her thumb jerks toward the front door. “We’re going to that charity art auction. I want to find a sculpture for the foyer.”

  She mentioned something about that last week, but I was in the middle of chatting with a potential customer online. The orders on my Etsy shop have tripled since Thanksgiving Day.

  “I’m sure you and Rocco will find something perfect at the auction,” I say with a smile, even though I’m secretly holding my breath, hoping that I’m spending the night here.

  “All three of us will.” She steps closer to me. “You said last week that you’d love to come, Rae.”

  I might have felt that way back then, but I’m in full panic mode now. I’m relying on the sales of my hand-painted ornaments more than ever this year. I was let go from my last job as the assistant to a sculptor in Brazil. Her impending marriage and relocation meant that she didn’t need me anymore. Even though she gave me a severance check and paid for my flight to New York, I’m still looking for another position in a much warmer climate than Manhattan in December.

  I can’t be responsible for stealing the smile from my sister’s face. She’s given me a place to stay for free, and I’ve gotten to know Rocco better the past few weeks. Going to a charity art auction may help me find inspiration for my paintings, the large ones on canvas, not the miniature ones on Christmas ornaments.

  “What’s the dress code for this evening?” I ask with a grin.

  Dexie glances at the blue sweater and ripped jeans I’m wearing. “Not that.”

  I let out a stuttered laugh. “Brutal.”

  “Wear your red pantsuit.” She wiggles her brows. “The backless one. You look sexy as hell in that thing.”

  I cock a hand on my hip. “Why do I want to look sexy for an art auction?”

  “Gorgeous men love art.” She glances over her shoulder as Rocco descends the staircase from the second floor. “Case in point.”

  I smile at my brother-in-law. “I’ll wear the pantsuit.”

  She claps her hands together. “I can’t wait for tonight.”

  “What’s tonight?” Rocco questions as he slides a pancake onto a plate.

  Dexie turns to watch him. “The charity art auction.”

  He shakes his head. “Shit. I forgot. I’ve got a meeting tonight, Dexie. It’s a deal I need to make.”

  Rocco’s life consists of making my sister happy and investing in businesses that need his money and expertise.

  “Seriously?” Dexie lets out a sigh.

  “I’ll make it up to you.” He approaches her with open arms. “I’ll be home by ten.”

  Suddenly feeling like I’m in the middle of a conversation I should have no part in, I turn toward the staircase. “I’m going to finish getting ready. I’ll see you both later.”

  “It looks like it’s just the two of us tonight, Rae.” Dexie wraps her arms around her husband. “Just like old times.”

  My heart tightens in my chest. Old times meant all the hours the two of us spent together while our mom worked three jobs.

  “I’ll see you tonight, sis.” I turn my attention to Rocco. “I hope you have a great day, Bil.”

  Rocco smiles at the nickname. Brother-in-law turned into Bil shortly after they married.

  “You too, Sil,” he bounces back. “Stay clear of men who aren’t watching where they’re going.”

  “I intend to,” I say as I reach the staircase. “I’ll run in the other direction if I ever see that jerk from last night again.”

  Chapter 4

  Calder

  “Hurry the hell up.”

  I respond to my assistant’s reminder that we’re already ten minutes late for the charity auction by whipping my middle finger in the air.

  He tosses one back at me and ups the ante by adding the appropriate words to the gesture. “Fuck you, Frost.”

  I ignore him as I straighten the navy blue tie around my neck.

  I can’t remember the last time I got this dressed up. There’s a good chance that it was when I went to my older sister’s wedding. Since that marriage collapsed three months later because her asshole husband couldn’t keep his dick away from other women, I’d say the effort I took to get dressed that day was a waste of fucking time.

  I hope to hell tonight is more successful than that.

  I donated a piece of my art for a good cause. The funds it raises will become part of a grant for kids at a community outreach center. The jury is still out on whether handing them a basket filled with art supplies will benefit them. I’d vote yes because the tools and metal my dad gave me when I was ten-years-old steered me toward the path I’m on now.

  “Why do I need to do this, Bauer? Don’t I pay you a fortune to show up at these things for me?”

  I’ve employed Bauer Knight for the past two years. I did it as a favor to his brother, William, who happens to be a lifelong friend of mine. Bauer needed an outlet for his creative energy, so I brought him to my studio one afternoon to witness my process. He cleaned up the place, took a few calls on my behalf, and negotiated a more than generous price on a piece I was working on at the time.

  I offered him a full-time job. He accepted on the spot, and we’ve been working side-by-side ever since.

  “You need the exposure.” He looks at his reflection in the mirror. “The place will be crawling with photographers. Try to smile, Calder. The brooding, tortured artist look is so last year.”

  “If that’s true, why are you dressed like that?”

  Bauer glances down at the black suit and shirt he’s wearing. “It’s my signature look at the moment. I’m working with charcoal again.”

  I envy that.

  Bauer’s talent reaches beyond one medium. The first day he walked into my studio, he was convinced that he’d make his mark on the art world with resin sculptures. That shifted to ceramic figures before he picked up a sketchpad and a piece of charcoal. The fluidity of the characters he drew was remarkable. It not only captured the eye, but the soul. He sold his first drawing a week later.

  “Good,” I say succinctly. “You should stick with it.”

  He rakes his hand through his dark brown hair. “I can’t. I have to follow the urge. One day it’s clay. The next it’s watercolors.”

  I pay Bauer well enough that he can do that, for now. If he wants to be taken seriously in this industry, he needs to master something, not experiment in everything.
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  He’s got time. He’s only twenty-four.

  Six years ago, when I was that age, I was selling small sculptures on a street corner near Central Park. I accepted as many compliments as insults back then.

  “As soon as my piece sells, I’m out of there,” I announce. “If you’re on board for that plan, I’ll buy you a drink at Tin Anchor.”

  The promise of a free beer at his favorite pub should be enough to lure him out of the auction on my heel.

  “I’ll pass.” He straightens the lapels of his jacket. “It’s an open bar at this auction, Calder. I can drink as much as I want. I intend on staying until they push me out of the door at the end of the night.”

  That’s a bad look for me, but I’ll fall back on my usual excuse of needing to work.

  “Use that time to chat up a few people with deep pockets.” I grab my phone from a table next to one of the windows in my studio.

  “Why?” He chuckles. “You’ve got orders for at least a dozen commissioned pieces that you haven’t even started yet.”

  That pressure is what fuels me. If I know I have a long list of clients waiting for one of my sculptures, it keeps me focused.

  “I’ll give you a ten percent cut of anything you book tonight, Bauer.”

  His brown eyes light up. “You’re fucking with me.”

  Shaking my head, I grin. “I’m not. If you secure anything with a deposit, the ten percent is yours upon completion and delivery.”

  “Damn.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “It looks like I’m working tonight.”

  “That’s the spirit. Let’s get this over with. I intend to be back here by nine at the latest.”

  “Dreamers can dream,” he says as I walk past him toward the door. “Mark my words, Calder. You’ll still be there when the clock strikes midnight.”

  “No fucking way.” I glance at him over my shoulder. “When midnight strikes, I turn into an asshole, so I need to be gone by then.”

  Bauer lets out a full laugh. “You’re an asshole twenty-four seven, so that argument won’t work.”

  I smile as we exit the studio to make an appearance at the last place I want to be tonight.

  Chapter 5

  Raelyn

  I’ve been to enough charity art auctions to know that at least a few artists in this room have a hidden agenda. When I worked for Eleni Melo in Brazil, she’d donate one of her glass sculptures to every charity auction that asked.

  Many considered her to be one of the most generous people they’d ever met. I couldn’t disagree with that, but I knew a secret that none of them did. Eleni was well aware that if her piece garnered one of the night’s highest bids, the people in attendance would want to know more about the artist.

  That’s why Eleni would look to her inner circle to lend a hand. She’d recruit an ex-boyfriend, a cousin, or in one case, her best friend to attend an auction. When Eleni’s sculpture hit the block, her self-appointed bidder would get to work. They’d shut down any competition by calling out an exorbitant amount. They didn’t care since ultimately it was Eleni who supplied the funds to purchase the piece. It all looked above board since the signature on the receipt was always someone other than Eleni.

  I didn’t discover her ruse until I stumbled on a shed on her sprawling property. Inside were dozens of glass sculptures that she had supposedly sold at auction.

  I confronted her, and she laughed it off, telling me I’d never make it as a professional artist unless I learned to bend the rules. She wasn’t the only one scooping up their own work for more than its value.

  That was one of the reasons my heart didn’t break when she told me that she was moving to Australia with her soon-to-be-husband. I smiled as soon as her back was turned as a shot of relief surged through me.

  “That’s disappointing.” Dexie huffs out an exaggerated sigh.

  I turn to look at her. She’s dolled up in a black dress that hugs her belly. She’s wearing three-inch heels. I held her hand as we descended the concrete steps of her townhouse since some of the snow that blanketed the city yesterday is still clinging to the ground.

  I shoveled the steps clean as soon as I got back from the craft store this morning, but the wind picked up, blowing snow around to settle in our path again.

  “What’s disappointing?” I poke her side with a gentle touch of my elbow. “They don’t have a pickle and ice cream bar set up?”

  She laughs. It’s one of those carefree laughs that I’ve come to love. It’s been more frequent since she met Rocco.

  “Calder Frost is auctioning that piece tonight.”

  I glance in the direction one of her blood-red fingernails is pointing. Those are courtesy of me. My time spent working part-time as a manicurist in high school paid off. “What piece?”

  Her finger jerks in the air in frustration. “That breathtaking sculpture, Rae. That’s a Calder Frost. I was hoping he would include a larger piece in the auction.”

  I stare at the sculpture. It’s a piece of silver metal curved into a trio of waves. It sits atop a square black box that looks like it’s also crafted from metal.

  When I approach it, Dexie does too.

  It’s on a rectangular table that is draped in a red linen cloth. Next to the sculpture is a white card. I read what’s written on it in gold ink.

  Fly Away

  Sculpture in Metal

  Artist: Calder Frost

  “Fly away,” Dexie whispers. “What a perfect name.”

  I tuck a wayward strand of my hair behind my ear. My sister insisted on handling hair and makeup duties for the evening. She did a top-notch job on both. My makeup consists of a smokey eye and deep red lipstick. She gathered my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head. Dexie insisted that it was the right choice since the pantsuit I’m wearing is backless.

  I told her it didn’t matter because I brought a blazer to cover up from what I knew would be the chill in the air. Dexie ripped it from my hands as soon as we arrived at this gallery. She handed it along with her coat over to the woman at the coat check station set up near the entrance.

  I cross my arms over my chest to shield the outline of my hardening nipples from the eyes of all the men who have taken notice. Why does it feel like we’re standing in a freezer?

  “Are you going to bid on this?” I glance down at the sculpture.

  “I should.” Dexie bites the corner of her bottom lip. “I was hoping for something bigger, but this would fit on the mantle of the fireplace in our bedroom. I know Rocco will still love it.”

  My brother-in-law is a bit of an art snob. It feels like I’m stepping into a museum whenever I wander the corridors in the townhouse. Art is displayed from almost every medium, including a few sculptures. Rocco even purchased one of my oil paintings on my birthday last year. He said it was a gift for both of us.

  “He’ll love it,” I agree with a nod of my chin. “I hope the bidding stays within your budget.”

  Dexie smiles. “All proceeds go to charity, Rae. Whatever I pay will be well worth it to see my husband’s face light up on Christmas morning when he opens the present containing that sculpture.”

  Seeing as how I only got him a shirt with BIL emblazoned across the front, I don’t have to worry about one-upping my sister. I hope that one day I can pay both Dexie and Rocco back for being so good to me.

  I glance toward the stage where the auctioneer stands and the dozens of plastic chairs lined in rows in front of it. “Let’s find our seats. You need to give your feet a rest.”

  Dexie leans against my shoulder. “This is why I like having you in New York. You take extra good care of me.”

  I reach for her hand to tug at it. “That’s because I love you.”

  Chapter 6

  Calder

  I follow Bauer into the venue just as a woman spots me on the approach. Her hand waves gleefully in the air as a gray-haired man stands by her side, looking like a lost camel on Fifth Avenue.

  Judging by the expression on his f
ace, he wants to be here as much as I do.

  “Mr. Frost.” The woman waves more excitedly now. “We were worried that you wouldn’t make it.”

  I pat Bauer on the shoulder.

  He leans closer to me. “Mitzi Hemley and her husband Augustine. She’s the chairperson of this auction.”

  I give him an extra pat in gratitude before I approach the couple. “Mitzi. Augustine. How are you both?”

  Augustine mutters something that sounds a lot like “fucking miserable,” but I ignore that and focus my attention on his wife.

  “Stressed.” Mitzi reaches for my hand, and who am I to deny it?

  She squeezes it, and I swear to fuck she runs her fingernail over my palm in a circle as she gazes into my eyes.

  “Has anyone ever told you that your eyes are mesmerizing, Mr. Frost?” She questions with a slick of her tongue over her bottom lip.

  “I need a drink,” Augustine announces to no one before he heads left toward a server holding a tray of what looks like half-filled champagne flutes.

  I’m going to need something more potent than that to get me to the other side of this evening.

  “I tell him all the time,” Bauer replies to Mitzi’s comment about my eyes. I have no fucking idea how he keeps a straight face.

  She turns to look at him. “Aren’t you handsome too? What’s your name?”

  “Bauer,” he says, offering her his hand.

  I’m left in the dust when he smiles at her. Bauer always has my back.

  “Why don’t I get us some champagne?” He holds Mitzi’s hand close to his chest. “You can tell me what I can do to help with the stress.”

  “Do you think you can help?” Mitzi sighs. “I need something to calm me down.”

  “I’ll show you some of my drawings,” Bauer says with a wink.

  Mitzi giggles as if she’s just won the lottery. “I can’t wait to see them.”

  Little does she know that he’s literally going to show her a folder on his phone’s image app that contains pictures of his charcoal drawings.