hung up in sequences that make them flow from one to the next, as if I was planning for them to be part of a series all along. Paintings I assumed were not my best work are displayed like the fucking Mona Lisa, crowds of suited men and elegantly dressed women looking at them and chatting quietly.
“Is this real?” I ask, not even bothering to fight back the sting of tears in my eyes as I turn around and look at the guys. “Is this fucking real?”
Elias grins. “It is. And you deserve it, Blue. Here, let me introduce you to my parents.”
He flags down an older couple who are standing nearby, and my eyes widen at the clear resemblance between Elias and both of them. I do my best not to shrink back into myself. I feel weirdly nervous about meeting his parents, but I’ve never been the type to shy away from anything or let people make me feel bad about who I am.
“Mom, Dad, this is Sophie Wright,” Elias says, pride beaming in his eyes. “She’s the one who did all of this.”
His mom’s expression softens a little as she looks at me, shaking my hand with a delicate one. “Thank you for sharing your talent with us, Sophie,” she says. I never knew a voice could be elegant, but hers somehow is. “They’re beautiful pieces.”
Elias’s dad offers similar praise of my work, and I manage to take their compliments and conversation without feeling too awkward. After a while, they move on, and Elias goes with them to meet a couple of business friends of his father’s.
“Come on, Sparrow. Why don’t you come meet some of your guests?” Gray suggests, stepping up and offering me an arm.
Ugh. This part, I’m truly dreading. As amazing as it is to see people checking out my pieces, the idea of actually talking to any of them makes me nervous as fuck.
“It’s all right.” Gray seems to read my thoughts, and a grin pulls at his lips. “They want to meet you. You can’t put all this amazing shit on display and not expect people to want to talk to you about it.”
I suppress a grin. Between standing up to Cliff and using his family’s connections in the art world to set this up, Gray has gone a long way toward proving that he’s seriously on my side. But he doesn’t seem content to stop there, going out of his way every chance he gets to let me know just how solidly he’s in my corner.
I like it.
For the next couple minutes, we make our way around the room. I meet people who run in the Sinners’ circles, though I realize later into the evening that neither Declan nor Gray’s parents were able to make it. And to my surprise, I even catch some faces I recognize from the school—a mix of staff and students, likely hoping tonight would turn into a shit show, but all silently subdued by the display in front of them.
“Shit,” Gray murmurs as he steers me away from an older couple who stopped me to compliment me on my work. “Alan Montgomery is here.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Montgomery. As in… Cliff’s dad?”
“Yes. He’s over there.”
He points out an older looking gentleman, movie star handsome, with a few gray streaks in his reddish-brown hair and an expensive suit. He looks exactly like what I’d expect Cliff’s father to look like, and something unsettling stirs in my stomach at the sight of him.
I don’t know this man at all, but having met his progeny, I’m sure I don’t want to.
“Fuck. What’s he doing here?” I ask, my shoulder brushing against Gray’s as I swivel my head to take in the room. “Is Cliff here too?”
Would he fucking dare?
Then again, if he did come, what can I do to stop him? Would it be worth me causing a scene at my own show? Probably not, and he probably knows that.
Gray frowns, his eyes going hard. He jerks his chin, and I follow his gaze to see the asshole himself making his way through the crowd.
Cliff stops near his dad, their heads bending in conversation, and my pulse quickens in my throat. Cliff’s expression is pinched and tight, but his dad looks like he’s trying to calm his son down. I hope for one fruitless second that Alan knows how stupid his son is and won’t let anything happen.
But somehow, I don’t think I can count on that. Alan Montgomery