The shirt ghosted over defined muscles and showed just how broad his shoulders were. What was it about good shoulders? I was woman enough to admit they were my weakness.
But it was the energy that flowed off him that had me stepping forward. He paid rapt attention to the photograph in front of him. I couldn’t help the question that tumbled out of my mouth. “What do you think?”
The man didn’t turn around. “It’s one of the most visceral pieces of art I’ve ever seen.”
Visceral. This man didn’t know he’d just paid me one of the highest compliments possible. “Most people think it’s depressing.” I’d seen more than one patron scrunch up their nose at it and turn away in favor of a pretty watercolor landscape.
“It’s real. A piece of the human experience. Isn’t that what art should be?”
My heart hammered in my chest. “I think so. That and to make us feel seen. Less alone in one way or another.” That was what it had done for me time and time again. It was why I had been brave enough to shoot this self-portrait. Because I hoped to give that gift to someone else.
“Less alone,” he muttered as he stared at the image. After a few beats, he turned around.
I sucked in a sharp breath as I took in his angled features that I’d seen gracing the covers of magazines at the grocery store checkout so many times. But those photos didn’t come anywhere close to doing his eyes justice. The swirling green and gold could hold a person in a trance. “Oh, crap.”
Boden Cavanaugh chuckled. “That isn’t usually the reaction I get, but I like the honesty.” He held out his hand. “I’m Boden.”
I shook on autopilot. I expected his palm to be soft, pampered, but rough calluses dotted his skin. “Laiken.”
“The woman in the photo.”
I cleared my throat and tugged my hand from his. “I am. And gallery manager. Nice to meet you.”
His gaze tracked over my face as if he were committing every detail to memory. “Is the photograph for sale?”
“It is—”
“I’ll take it.”
I arched a brow. “You didn’t even ask how much it is.”
He grinned, and the effect was devastating. “Rookie mistake. You know how much I want it now and can highball me.”
My lips twitched. “Lucky for you, there’s a price point on the exhibit label. I won’t be able to con you out of millions.”
“I guess luck is on my side.” He turned back to the photo and the plaque to check the price. “This photographer should be charging triple.”
“I’ll be sure to tell them.”
Boden turned back to me. “I don’t see a name. I’d love to look for more of their work.”
“They prefer to remain anonymous, but I can give you a link to their website. And we have a couple more pieces that will be in the next showing in a few weeks.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Why the anonymity?”
I shrugged. “They say it allows the art to be more free.”
Boden glanced at the photograph again. “It’s the hardest to be vulnerable in front of prying eyes.”
“Yet you manage to do it.” Countless awards told me as much.
He smiled. “I try.”
That curve of the lips was charming. Beautiful, even. But I studied smiles, and I knew a fake one when I saw it. In the midst of such a real conversation, I hated the falsity slipping in. I headed to the reception desk. “I can take payment now if you’d like, but you won’t be able to pick up the photograph until the end of the exhibit in a few weeks. If you won’t be here, then I can have it shipped wherever you’d like.”
Boden followed behind me. “I can pay now.”
He moved to pull his wallet out when a bark sounded, and Gizmo charged out of the back room, wheels bouncing as he ran.