Connor really did have talent. Margot had known that on an intellectual level, but the last time she’d been in this gallery, the tension had been so thick she worried that some sort of magical battle would break out between the McAllister and Wilcox contingents, and that would have been a terrible mess to clean up. Public displays of power were always so difficult to sweep under the rug, and you couldn’t get much more public than a gallery in the heart of Sedona’s uptown district.
This evening, though, couldn’t have been more different. She hadn’t spotted anyone from either clan yet, apart from Connor himself, but it was enough that she and Lucas were here together, wandering from painting to painting and chatting quite amiably about the merits of each. There were several she would have l
