She’d decided not to take her car into the central city so it would be easier to hand deliver her CV to three of the city’s top employment agencies. She hoped for an interview with one of their consultants. (Or should she phone ahead? Her heart wasn’t really in this!) Then she’d have lunch with her old friend and workmate, Shelley, and ask how her successor was coping...just in case there was an opening there again. And after that she’d get the bus back to the gallery in Newmarket and hope they still had the painting which had most appealed the previous day. It wasn’t by a big-name artist, but the talent was obvious, and who knew what the future held for them? It was a naked angel—a hard-muscled man lazing on something that might be heavenly clouds. A huge feathered wing cast enough shadow to make him almost decent. The rest of the body was definitively beautifully male. She’d need a taxi to bring him home. Later that afternoon Kate paid the driver and eased out of the cab with the long painting.
What do You think about Her Man With Iceberg Eyes?
