The Seraphim arrived the following week, and Nate had yet to tell me what he'd paid for it. Based on Tara's comment about Sera pricing it not to sell, I'd guess it was steep. I loved the sculpture, but I really had no idea what to do with it and left it in my living room. I didn't really have a house designed for grand art, but it fit in with the bohemian décor.
Every time I walked through the room, I'd stop to stare at it, admire it, which was exactly what I was doing when Ferry showed up.
Not only did he spot The Seraphim, but he recognized it. "Sera Martin's piece?" He walked by the angel without so much as a sideways glance.
"Yeah, are you a fan of her work?" This was a relatively small town in comparison to metropolises like Atlanta and New York; therefore, the art community was
