Like he’d thought. A mystery. “Why haven’t you let him? Save yourself the cost and the hassle.”
“True,” she said, her head still inclined, her fingers now fondling the charms on her earring. “It’s just the nature of the pictures he wants. The nature of his gallery. I don’t do what I do for just anyone, and so only the right photographer will work.”
His antennae twitched. He wasn’t sure this was anything he wanted to know. But he had to ask. “What do you do?”
She cut her eyes to his. “I let people look.”
Uh, whoa. Just whoa. Finn found his head nodding, like he couldn’t keep it still with that picture bouncing around inside.
She let people look.
The next question should probably have been, “At what?” But the way she’d said it, he didn’t need to ask.
He knew.