Free On Sunset Beach by Mariah Stewart Page A

the most of it while raising two children and dealing with a husband who hated that she painted and did everything he could do to discourage her. The gallery show—assuming the town council will approve it—would be spectacular.”
    “Now I know I have to read that manuscript.” Dallas’s legendary lavender eyes began to twinkle. “Yes, please send it to me as soon as you’ve finished. I can’t wait to read it.” She opened her bag and took out a card which she handed to Carly. “My email’s on the back.”
    “Thanks. I’d just ask that you keep it to yourself right now. I’m hoping Ed and the others will keep it under wraps as well. I’d like to make a splashy announcement.”
    “You can count on me,” Dallas assured her, “and I’ll make sure to tell Grant to remind the others that we don’t want the story getting old before its time.”
    “Thanks, Dallas. I’d appreciate that.”
    They were joined by Steffie Wyler and her husband, Wade MacGregor, who was Dallas’s brother. The talk immediately changed to the news that Steffie and Wade were expecting their first child, and Steffie’s attempts to avoid eating the ice cream she made for her shop, One Scoop or Two. Feeling like a fifth wheel, Carly drifted away into the crowd. She glanced around for Ellie and Cameron, but somehow had lost track of them. There were several small bars set up at differentpoints in the room, and Carly headed for one, where she ordered a glass of wine. Once she’d been served, she made a beeline for the door that led into the lobby. On the way, she was stopped several times, once by Ed, who wanted to introduce her to another member of the town council, once by Ellie’s friend Sophie Enright, who’d also heard about the proposed plan for her grandfather’s carriage house (“Fabulous idea. I couldn’t be more excited. If it ever went to a referendum, you’d have my vote”), and once by Lucy, who wanted to introduce Carly to her brother, who was nowhere to be found at the moment.
    Finally escaping into the lobby, Carly sipped her wine as she strolled around the room, glancing at the walls in search of the painting Grace had mentioned and trying to appear calm and collected. Had Dallas MacGregor really just asked to read her book once it was completed? Did she really say she might be interested in a film about Carolina, a film that could conceivably be based on Carly’s book?
    Carly took another sip of wine and forced her feet to stay on the floor. The urge to jump up and down was hard to suppress.
    Then she saw it. Across the room, on the wall behind the reception desk, hung an oil painting in a style Carly recognized from thirty feet away. She drew closer for a better look.
    The subject was a grand white house with tall columns that rose to the second floor, where a balcony graced the front of the building. In the background, pine trees bent by wind stood their ground against the moonlit Bay, where choppy waters crashed over a wooden dock.
    Carly knew the painting, though she’d never seen it before. Carolina had written about it in one of her journals. She stepped closer.
    “Excuse me.” The woman behind the counter reached out to touch Carly’s arm. “Guests aren’t permitted behind the reception desk.”
    “Oh, I just wanted to get a better look at that painting,” Carly explained.
    “I’m sorry,” the desk clerk said. “It’s house rules.”
    Carly sighed and stepped to the side of the desk, craning her neck to get as close as she could.
    “Will you slap me if I help you up?” a male voice said from behind her.
    Carly straightened up, a frown on her face. “What?”
    “You were leaning over so far, I thought you were about to fall over.”
    She turned and looked up into eyes that were as gray as a stormy summer sky set in a deeply tanned face too rugged to be classically handsome. For a moment, she forgot where she was and what she’d been doing.
    “Are you okay?” he asked.
    “Oh. I was trying