Part 18 (1/2)

They went up to bed not long after that and made slow, delicious love. Lacey thought, as she dropped

off to sleep a little later, that she'd never been happier. She had her love and her baby and little by little, she was getting back to work.

XavierHockland called the next day.

Chapter 13.

”Igot your number from Barnaby,” Xavier said in that slightly bored, thoroughly arrogant tone Lacey remembered so well. ”I asked him if I could just drop by his loft and show Belinda Goldstone the work you did last winter. He said I had to check with you first.” Belinda Goldstone. Lacey's pulse accelerated. Belinda Goldstone was one ofL.A.'s premiere art dealers.

She owned a gallery where she hung only the works of top contemporary artists.

”Lace. Are you there?”

Lacey swallowed. ”I'm here.”

”I heard you had that baby.”

Thatbaby. What was the matter with him? ”Her name is Rosie.”

”And you adore her.” Xavier sighed.

”Yes, I do. She's one of the two best things that ever happened to me.”

”The other being?”

”My husband, Logan.”

Xavier said nothing. Lacey waited him out. Finally, he asked, ”Have you done any work at all in the past few months?”

”Xavier. Let's not get started on that. What I'm working on, or when, or how much time I'm giving to it is no longer your concern. What's this about Belinda Goldstone?”

He let a few seconds elapse, just to show her he was controlling the conversation, before he said, ”I had lunch with her yesterday. She asked about you.”

Lacey was frowning. ”I hardly know her. I've met her at two or three openings,that's all-just to shake her hand and say, 'How are you?' Why would she ask about me?”

Xavier sighed again. ”Until you decided to throw it all away, youwere my protegee.”

Lacey knew that wasn't all of it. ”Okay. So she asked about me. And you told her I'd thrown it all away.

End of conversation.”

Xavier made an impatient sound. ”All right, all right. Word gets around. There has been some buzz about that series of figure studies you were working on before you took off to ... complete your gestation period in the wilds ofWyoming.”

”So she asked about the series I was working on last winter, is that it?”

”Yes.”

”And you told her...?”

Another pause, then he gave out grudgingly, ”That they were fabulous. Sensual. Arresting. Powerful. I laid on the adjectives. They were only the truth.”

Lacey's heart had started pounding hard again. ”And she asked if she could see them?”

”Yes. I told her I'd check into it. Will you call that d.a.m.n Barnaby and tell him it's all right if I show them to her?”

Lacey resisted the urge to throw back her head and let out a long, loud yelp of glee. ”Lace? Will you call Barnaby?” ”Yes, Xavier, I will.” ”Thank you.” ”Thankyou .” ”You're welcome,” Xavier said. ”And there's one other thing...” ”Yes?” ”Perhaps I was a little out of line, about that baby.” ”Her name is Rosie. And yes, you were out of line.” ”You're happy.” ”I am.” ”And Barnaby said the man's a doctor. That he has money.” ”What are you getting at, Xavier?” ”Happiness and money. These are good things for an artist. Some opt for struggle-they buy into the myth that suffering will somehow improve the work. This is delusional. Struggle only wears one down. The work gets done in spite of suffering, not because of it. A place to work, and few outside worries. That's what an artist needs. Happiness and money can help a lot in that regard. When you told me about the baby, I understood you were going to be dealing with it on your own. Now I can see that isn't the case, so perhaps I was too quick to offer my advice on the subject.”

”Xavier, is this an apology?”

”I never apologize. I'm just pleased to hear you're doing well. Have Barnaby call me.”

”Yes. Yes. I will.”

At first, Lacey told no one about Xavier's call-except Barnaby inL.A.It was her little secret she kept just to herself.

Belinda Goldstone had asked to see her work.

It might mean nothing.

Or it might mean a great deal.

She wouldn't know until Xavier-or Belinda Goldstone herself-called back.If one of them called back.

Until then, well, she certainly did feel terrific about herself. She found it easier to concentrate when she went into her studio. Her confidence had just gotten a big boost, and that did wonders for her ability to focus when she worked.

And beyond progress in her work, it was pure self-indulgent delight just to fantasize a little about what this might mean. To imagine her paintings hanging in Belinda Goldstone's gallery.

In her fantasy, of course; the show would sell out before the opening. And her beautiful paintings of Loganwould...

Logan.

That did give her pause. She had yet to tell him that there were nine nudes of him-his face carefully disguised, of course-stored in Barnaby Cole'sL.A.loft.

She probablyshould have told him before now.