Sleepy Hollow by Taryn Kincaid

Author:Taryn Kincaid [Kincaid, Taryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Romance, Fantasy & Futuristic, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy, Paranormal, Paranormal & Urban, TV; Movie; Video Game Adaptations, Thunder, Frost, Heat Wave, Blizzard, Lightning
Amazon: B00EUTR4RE
Publisher: Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
Published: 2013-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

Inside the Night Gallery, splashy red hearts and frilly doilies decorated the ceiling, windows and the refreshment tables set up for the “Lose Your Heart to Art” party. Visitors with drinks and canapés in hand moved from one exhibition room to the next, agog, atwitter, and aroused. Couples did not stay very long. Singletons hooked up with someone they met while strolling from piece to piece and left quickly, arms entwined with their newfound friend. Julian Graves rang up sale after sale, as patrons thronged throughout the evening.

And still an air of vague disappointment filled Dagney. She’d been in a state of semi-heat for nearly a week now, ever since she’d first viewed the Maxwell Raines paintings being mounted on her walls. Madame Eve had come through, fixing her up with a 1Night Stand with the elusive, reclusive artist, although the cryptic French woman had not precisely advised when or where the date would be. Even Julian and Bryce Blackburn, Raines’ agent, had been in on the high-level negotiations, working together to try to secure Raines’ agreement to attend the gallery party.

But a few minutes before midnight, with the crowd thinning out, he had failed to put in appearance.

“Awesome!” Julian waved a sheaf of receipts under her nose. “We’ll have to hire a van tomorrow to get everything delivered.”

Dagney sighed. Valentine’s Day. Not a day to be hiring vans and delivering merchandise, unless you were a florist or chocolatier. She’d hoped she and Raines would link up tonight, hit it off, and she’d have an actual date for the most romantic holiday of the year. Something about the artist resonated with her, in a way that no other males did.

But once again, apparently not to be. If Dagney had to resort to making a booty call to Randy McNeer tomorrow when she’d brushed him off like jacket lint, she might as well flush any remaining self-esteem.

“The walls will be bare after tonight.” Julian nudged her in the side to recapture her attention. “Can you ask that guy Raines if he’s got anything more for us? We could sell four times as much.”

“They’re not hotcakes, Jules.”

“Tell that to the patrons. We still have rent to pay. And if he can paint it, they will come.”

“I’ll forget you even said that.”

“You need to talk to him, Dag.”

“Maybe I could if he were here.”

He bit his lower lip. “Tried, Dag. Really. So did Bryce Blackburn.”

“I know, Jules.” She mustered a smile. “The night’s been a brilliant success.”

“It really has, you know. Totally smokin’. Raines’ work even blew the New York Times critic away.” He leaned closer to whisper into her ear. “I saw him rubbing his dick when he went to get his coat. He nearly jumped one of the caterers. I guarantee you he’ll whack off a couple of times before he files his review. So he should be in a pretty mellow mood when he does.” He stuffed the stack of checks into a bank bag. “I’m gonna lock these up and take off.

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