Free Nobody's Angel by Patricia Rice

with genuine pleasure, and profit.
    The tourists drew closer as they realized the man carrying the cardboard box was actually an artist. Faith gestured for them to enter the gathering circle. This was what she enjoyed most about her shop—bringing the art-deprived public together with the artists and encouraging their interest.
    “Is this the consignment?” she asked eagerly, letting Juan set his box down on the empty exhibit table she'd been preparing earlier. “May I show everyone?”
    A little overwhelmed by the audience, Juan deferentially nodded agreement. Faith sensed Adrian's cynicism as he leaned against her counter and watched the proceedings, but she didn't have to put on a show for his sake. She smiled as she lifted the first piece out of the box. “The tiger! You brought me the tiger! Thank you.” She held the delicate figurine up so their audience could appreciate its beauty. “The details are exquisite. Look at the whiskers, and the eyes! This one looks like a protective father watching over his cubs.”
    “Sí,”
Juan agreed quietly. “I am still working on his mate.”
    “Then they should be sold as a pair,” Faith declared firmly, setting the tiger aside. “I'll display this one until his mate is ready.”
    The silver-haired matron picked up the tiger and studied it as Faith pulled out the rest of the pieces. The tourists oohed and aahed over a sleek panther and a cardinal ready to burst into song. A set of tumbling kittens brought a chorus of ecstasy. Haltingly, Juan recited a brief story behind each piece, and before she'd emptied the box, Faith knew she had sold almost the entire consignment. She'd studied her catalogs and had the prices she wanted firmly in mind. There was hesitation on the part of the tourists, but Mrs. McIntyre's definitive purchase of the largest piece and a demand to be notified when the tiger pair were ready swayed them to open their wallets.
    As the shop gradually cleared of the triumphant new owners of original hand-signed porcelain, Faith slumped onto her stool behind the counter and beamed. “Juan, that was brilliant! You practically hand-sold every piece. You need to make limited editions of all of them, sign and number them, and I could line up other galleries as well as this one. If you don't mind a little travel …”
    Smiling at last, Juan shook his head. “Isabel is carrying our first child. I'll not travel far from home. But I've never seen such enthusiasm before. That was your doing, not mine. They believed in your expertise.”
    “She received a nice percentage for that enthusiasm,” Adrian interrupted rudely. “Don't give her too much credit.”
    Adrian's half brother—Cesar, Faith thought he was called— still looked amazed as he checked the few remaining pieces on the table. “But did you see how much she sold them for? Maybe I should take up pottery—”
    Adrian cuffed him lightly. “After you own a farm like Juan and can raise your own food so you don't starve. It's taken Juan—what?” He turned to his cousin. “Fifteen years? And this is the most money he's ever made. And you've never shown any talent in that direction before. It's not something one can learn.”
    “And the bowl didn't sell,” Faith gently reminded the youth. “That is the most original piece of work, the one with the highest price. It could be months before I find someonewilling to pay the cost. The porcelain figurines are brilliant and take forever, but once the molds are created, they can be reproduced a million times. The hand painting can be turned over to artisans. The vase, on the other hand, is one of a kind. There will never be another like it, but most people don't understand or appreciate uniqueness.”
    Undaunted, Cesar merely stepped back from the table, shoving his hands in his pockets and shaking his head in admiration. “Adrian, you are missing your opportunity.”
    Not acknowledging this enigmatic remark, Adrian turned his dark gaze on Faith. Somehow,