Sweet and Wild - Carmen Jenner
CHAPTER ONE
Lemon
“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Winchester.” The art dealer shakes my hand, and I can barely keep the smile from my face.
“You too. Thank you so much again.”
He nods and straightens his tie as he walks toward the door in his sharp Gucci suit.
“Bye now.” I wave and cringe at the extra southerness in my voice. I’ve been in New York for twelve years, and no matter how I try, I still can’t drop this Texan accent. It’s ingrained in me, just like wild in the Winchester blood.
Mr. Garcia leaves, and I run over and close the gallery doors, squealing like a slapped pig.
“Honey, are you okay? Couldn’t help but notice you screaming like the South had risen again,” Ambrose—my employee of two years—calls from my office. I may pay his salary, but we have more of a casual working relationship based on the fact that we both love fine art, champagne, and everything fabulous.
“Oh my God! Ambrose, get your butt out here.”
He hurries down the staircase in that casual, I-give-zero-fucks attitude that all New Yorkers have mastered—well, all New Yorkers except me. I run to him and grab his hands, jumping up and down. He humors me, bouncing on the balls of his feet as excitedly as I am, though he has no idea why yet. “What are we so happy about, my little southern belle?”
“That man who just left?”
“Yeah. He’s a dealer, right? Garcia someone? He charges a huge commission on behalf of his clients. What the hell was he doing here?”
“He just bought every single one of my paintings.”
Ambrose’s jaw drops, which—come to think of it—I don’t think I’ve ever seen him do. “Get the fuck out!”
“No, I’m serious. He did.”
“Who’s the buyer?”
“I have no idea. They wished to remain anonymous.”
“Holy shit. We need to go out and celebrate.”
“Actually, I was hoping maybe you could close up for me and I could go celebrate with my very handsome and very busy fiancé?”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine. But you owe me. Drinks tomorrow night, on you.”
“It’s a done deal.”
He smooshes my cheeks. “I just love it when your inner Betty-Lou Sue comes out.”
“Oh, hush.” I bat him away and put on my sternest boss face. I’ve been running this gallery for two years. It was a long, hard road to get here through art school and waiting tables, and then when I met Stavros, my life finally felt like it was coming together. I opened the gallery, he proposed, and I’ve never looked back since. “Are you sure you don’t mind closing up for me?”
“Of course not.”
“You’re an angel.” I kiss his cheek.
“I’m an angel who loves McQueen, just FYI.”
I laugh and gather my purse and keys, making a mental note to pick up something special for him. Then I head outside and climb into my Ferrari 812 GTS that Stavros bought me for my thirtieth birthday.
Stopping by a liquor store on my way to our Manhattan apartment, I pick up a bottle of Dom Pérignon. When I enter the building and wave to our doorman, he gives me an odd look. I’ve never quite won him over, sadly, which just gets my goat because I win everyone over, eventually.
I hit the button for my floor and bounce on the balls of my feet as the elevator climbs all the way to the penthouse. When I open the front door of our apartment, the scent of Chinese food and freesias fills my nostrils. My best friend, Brooklyn, must be here.
“Stavros? Brook?” I walk through the lounge, and sure enough my best friend is here—facedown on my couch with my piece-of-shit fiancé pile-driving her naked ass. The bottle of expensive champagne falls from my hands and shatters, spilling all over the Grecian tiles.
Their stunned faces turn toward me, and Stavros jerks away from my best friend as if he’s actually surprised to find me here. Brook’s face is beet red as she covers herself with one of my throw cushions.
“You have got to be kidding me!”
“Lemon,” Stavros says, pulling on his pants. “This isn’t how it looks.”
“Really? Because it looks like the two people I love the most are fucking one another on the couch I picked out.”
Brooklyn finds her voice, and I really wish she hadn’t. “Lem, it’s … I’m really sorry. You know Stavros and I have history.”
Being lifelong family friends and ex-lovers, they have history alright. I guess I’m just the only one who thought it was ancient.
“Oh, I know all about history,