“Thanks,” I choke out.

“Now, what’s happening with you and that nice lady in the wedding dress?” she says.

“Dear god, none of us have seen her in the wedding dress since that first night she spent in Star Falls,” Jim replies. “It’s not like she’s wandering the streets dressed as a bride.” He rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t want her past following her around like that.”

It’s my turn to pat Jim on the back. He’s so protective. It looks like Rosey’s earned her place in Star Falls, too.

Sue rolls her eyes like she’s used to Jim complaining about her. There’s obviously been another shuttle bus drop-off, because more Star Falls locals start to file into the ballroom.

Juney spots me right away.

“Byron!” Her eyes light up when she sees me. “I’m so excited to be here. I can’t believe—” She puts her hand over her mouth and shakes her head. Her eyes fill with tears. I get another back slap from Jim. “I just can’t believe you bought so many.”

“You’re a talented artist. We have something of yours in every chalet,” I say. I’d almost had to force my designer to visit Juney’s studio, but as soon as she got there, she was spending my money faster than the water falling over the rocks that gave Star Falls its name.

“You don’t know what it means to me,” she says. “You’ve bought more from me than I’ve sold in my entire career combined.”

“That only tells me the rest of the world is missing out on your talent,” I reply. “I should put you in touch with my friend Fisher. He knows a lot of agents back in New York. He might be able to introduce you to someone who could give you a bit more recognition.”

Juney’s eyes go wide. “That would be great. I met Fisher, didn’t I? At Grizzly’s a couple of weeks back.”

“I hear he’s been quite the inspiration,” Sue says.

I glance between her and Juney, not clear what she’s saying.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Juney says, a blush creeping up her neck.

“From what I heard, you’ve been painting a lot of naked torsos since the storm.”

She rolls her eyes. “I paint everything.”

“Well, Fisher’s coming over for the opening. Maybe I can reintroduce you two then,” I say. I might also be playing matchmaker.

“Perfect,” Sue says, before Jim lovingly guides his wife toward the bar.

“He’s single. But a committed New Yorker,” I say.

“Just ignore Sue,” she says. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I’m not painting your friend.”

I might not have spent a lot of time with Juney in the last fifteen years, but I know a liar when I see one.