I couldn’t imagine how, what with her now going to be alone in a room with a bunch of amateur sculpture, a bunch of detritus from sculpting and a bunch of stacked and boxed materials that would maybe one day be sculpture.

I dragged Brett outside and noticed Joe’s eyebrows go right up when I did.

I ignored Joe, turned on Brett, but waited until the door closed.

I let Brett go.

Then I launched in.

“Let me guess, she works at a gallery.”

“No,” he replied.

Oh.

Well then…

What was Sadie doing there?

“She owns one,” he finished.

Ugh.

I dropped my head back and studied the blue Colorado sky.

“Hattie, sweetheart,” he called.

I righted my head and looked him straight in the eye.

“You don’t get to do that,” I said quietly.

“Honey,” he said quietly back.

“I share my stuff when I’m ready to share my stuff.” And that was never, since he, Sly and Axl were the only ones who’d ever seen it, and I hadn’t invited any of them to have a look. “You don’t do it for me, and it doesn’t get done until I’m ready.”

“You have eleven finished pieces in there,” he told me.

“How do you know if they’re finished?” I asked.

That shut him up.

But not for long.

“If they’re not, when they are, I suspect you’ll get right on finding somewhere to show, or someone to consign them with.”

Hmm.

Sarcasm.

Not a big fan.

“Brett—”

“She flipped for them.”

That shut my mouth.

“She wants to show you. A clear-out of her gallery, total focus on you.”

My skin started to feel tingly.

Brett kept speaking.

“She says, as you’ve never sold, she has no idea where to price you. But she thinks the girl folded into herself she’d tag for fifteen K, that huge man head would be twenty.”

Oh.

My.

Freaking.

God!

“Twenty thousand dollars?” I whispered.

“Yes. And she says she thinks she can get a feature on you in 5280 magazine. She also wants to take some pictures. Because she knows a couple of galleries in LA, one in San Fran, one in Vail and two in Aspen who she thinks will be interested in your work. This, after you debut at her gallery. And they’ll have the clientele that’ll buy it.”

I didn’t know what to say, and considering the tingles had taken over to the point my fingers felt numb, I decided to concentrate on that rather than try to find something to say.

“Are those pieces done, Hattie?” he asked.

“Yes,” I pushed out.