“You look beautiful,” Kane tells me as he stands in the living room and I step out of the bedroom in my brand-new oh my God, I’m having my own art showing dress.

“You think so? It isn’t too much? Too little? Too underwhelming?”

He reaches out and grasps my hand. “Perfect. You look fucking perfect.”

It’s times like this when I wish I had a full-length mirror in my tiny apartment, but when I look at Kane, I realize I don’t need one. I can see everything I need to know reflected in his icy blue eyes.

The only thing I don’t see . . . is his suit.

“I thought you brought clothes to change into?” I ask.

He nods. “I did.” He glances down at the jeans he’s wearing. “You see them.”

That’s when it hits me.

“You’re not going with me?” A stab of hurt pierces my chest.

“I don’t want people asking questions about me when tonight is all about you.”

Even though I’m devastated to hear his answer, something about it warms me. No one has ever had my best interest in mind as much as Kane does.

But this time, he’s wrong.

“I need you with me, Kane. I want you with me. Tonight wouldn’t be happening without you, and it won’t be the same if you’re not there.”

He opens his mouth to respond, and I hold up a hand.

“I don’t want to hear your arguments. I’m not taking no for an answer. You have an alias you use in public. You’re using it tonight.”

He snags my hand and lifts it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my palm. “It’s the most important night of your life—”

“Which is why you need to be there. I’m not walking into my first showing alone.”

His features soften. “You sure you want me beside you? Even as Ken Sax?”

Sometimes, I swear the man is dense, but I’ll lay it out for him in words he can’t misunderstand.

“It doesn’t matter what your name is. I always want you beside me. I love you.”

“All right, princess. You got me.”

When I walk into Noble Art, even with Kane beside me and no one in the gallery but Valentina, Trinity, a few other employees, and the serving staff, my stomach twists and flips.

What if everyone hates my work? It’s one thing to watch it go for the highest bid when no one knows it’s yours. And yet another thing completely when it’s sold without me having to witness any of the negotiations or discussion.

This is a totally different ball game. In half an hour, this gallery will—God willing—be full of art patrons, and my job is to circulate among them and talk about my work in a way that makes me sound classy and confident.

I’m not sure I’m capable of that.

Kane’s hand squeezes mine in a tight grip. “Hey. Look at me.”

I turn to find his gaze on me.

“You can do this. You were born to do this, Temperance. I know it.”

I shake my head because all my old insecurities are pushing to the forefront. “I feel like a fraud. Like someone is going to laugh and ask why they filled the room with scrap metal when there’s supposed to be a sophisticated art showing taking place.”

“That’s not going to happen, so put it out of your mind.”

He can’t know that, though.

“What if no one buys anything, and Valentina is out all this time and effort and money?”

As if summoned by me saying her name, Valentina appears beside us. She presses a glass of champagne into my hand.

“Take this and drink it. You look like you need it.”

“With the state of my stomach, I’m not sure champagne is the best idea right now.”

Valentina gives me a sympathetic smile before she spins around to grab a bottle of water off the table behind her and trades me. “Trust me, I’ve been in your shoes. You’re going to do great, even without liquid courage. Put your game face on. Go out there and act like the artist you are, and let people see your passion for your work. Tell them what you told me as we unloaded each one of them. The exhaust pipe that came off the Chevy Nova. The rearview mirror from the Land Rover. The sheet metal from a body panel of an old Willys jeep. How you saw those pieces and had a vision of giving them a second life instead of letting them get scrapped. You have a gift, Temperance. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t believe that.”

She throws my words and explanations from earlier this week back at me, and one by one, the knots in my stomach loosen.

“You really think people want to hear those stories?” I take a drink of water.

“Yes. Absolutely. That’s what makes these pieces so special. You take everyday objects and turn them into magic. Showings are incredible for patrons because it’s the only time they truly get to experience an artist’s passion as they explain their work. That’s why I have no doubt we’re both going to be pleasantly surprised tonight.”

“But—”

“But nothing. I wouldn’t have gotten so many RSVPs if no one wanted to buy a damn thing. I don’t even know how we’re going to fit everyone in this building. My fire inspector better not be working tonight, that’s all I can say. Now, introduce me to your man. I don’t think we’ve met.”

Before I can say anything, Rix joins us.

“You better not be planning on bribing a public official, babe. It ain’t a good idea.”

Valentina laughs. “If I do, you’re going to pretend you didn’t hear a damn thing.” Her gaze slides to Kane. “I’m Valentina Hendrix, and this is my gallery.”

“Ken Sax.” He shakes her hand, handling all this better than I do.

Valentina, Rix, Kane, and I make small talk until the first guest arrives and wants to speak to the artist.

Lord help me.

I’m the artist.