And speaking of art, jaws drop when people first take in Jack’s paintings. All of them really, but especially Bridge and Blooms, hung in its spot of honor behind the main counter. Jack specifically asked me not to direct anyone his way, should they inquire, but you can bet your ass I’ll be posting some of his paintings on Instagram. I don’t want to push him into selling his art if he really doesn’t want to, but something tells me he could be raking in commissions left and right.

I approach an older woman, probably in her early sixties, as she’s taking in Bridge and Blooms, her eyes locked on the painting. “Hi, thank you so much for coming. I’m Sadie.”

She pulls her eyes from the artwork and gives me a warm smile. “Sadie. So nice to meet you. The shop is lovely.”

“Thank you so much . . .” I trail off my sentence since she hasn’t introduced herself to me yet.

“Oh yes, so sorry. I’m Judy Taylor from City Life magazine.” She holds out her hand and gives me a firm shake. “Sorry, I guess I got distracted by this stunning piece of art up here.”

I beam with as much pride as if I painted it myself. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Judy takes a step closer, studying the canvas with squinted eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that was a Jackson Bennett.”

“A what?” I try to find Jack in the crowd. I know he said he didn’t want to meet anyone, but this woman works for an actual magazine and she might be too good a contact to pass up.

“Jackson Bennett. You might be too young to remember. He was big about ten, fifteen years ago. Sold his paintings for millions, but was a total recluse and no one ever saw his face.”

“Oh, well, this is definitely not a Jackson Bennett. I couldn’t afford millions.” Rising up on my toes, I search for Jack’s dark curls in the crowd.

“Wouldn’t matter if you could. He disappeared about seven years ago. Practically dropped off the face of the earth overnight.”

Suddenly I don’t care too much about finding Jack. “I’m sorry, did you say he stopped painting seven years ago?”

“Thereabouts.” She gives the painting one final appraising look before patting me on the shoulder. “Congrats on the opening, I’ll make sure to mention it in the next issue. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get another one of those pot stickers.”