Page 63 of Edged

The women’s voice dropped. “Really? Are you sure that’s not gossip.”

“It’s not. I heard Olivia talking one day, and she mentioned Anthony wasn’t her biological child.”

“Interesting. That might be why he’s chosen to do fetish art.”

The voices drifted away, and Anthony didn’t move. The women were wrong. The observers’ remarks were typical of the myths surrounding the lifestyle. Submissives had to be insightful, self-aware individuals. It took a strong person to give over most or all control to another person.

Was he living a pipe dream about his art? Dane had taken a chance on him, and Anthony didn’t want there to be any blowback on Dane or his gallery. Would he ever be worthy to people?

Interesting how his adoptive mother actually talked about him not being her biological child. Neither of his adoptive parents had told him he was adopted until he was eighteen and refused to do what they wanted. That had been one hell of a fight.

“There you are,” Dane said, walking up to him. “I love the new work, and since you’re here, I’ll give you this.”

Dane handed him an envelope. “What’s this?” Anthony turned the envelope over and opened the flap.

“Your cut from the paintings I’ve sold.”

Anthony slid the check out and froze. “There has to be some mistake.” He could only stare at the check.

“No mistake. I made sure it was a cashier’s check so there wouldn’t be any issues with the bank.”

“But…” He shook his head.

“Trust me. People love your art.”

“Not everyone.” He thought about the two women he’d overheard talking.

“Who cares about them? There are enough who enjoy your work. Trust me, I’m not going to have any trouble selling the new ones.”

“Thanks, Dane.” Anthony pushed the envelope into his pocket and left. It was a little bittersweet that he’d found success, but the woman he wanted to share it with wasn’t talking to him. After a quick stop at the bank to deposit the check, Anthony stopped and picked up two bouquets of flowers.

One for his grandmother and one for Kaley. He checked his watch. Kaley was due to groom Nugget today, and he wanted to be there when she did. Climbing into his vehicle, he headed for home.

* * * *

“You spoil me,” his grandmother said when he handed her the flowers. He laid the second bouquet by the front door.

“No, I don’t.” He kissed her cheek and watched her as she crossed the kitchen to get a vase. Her ankle had healed, and she was getting around on her own. She had been for a couple of weeks, and Anthony was happy to see her thriving and independent again.

“You do. You took care of me when I hurt my ankle, and you’re constantly doing things around the house and the cottage to keep them in good repair.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

Clara looked at him as she sat down. “What do you mean?”

“You took me in when my adoptive parents threw me out.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Those two are idiots. You are my grandson, and I wasn’t about to see you homeless.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you lost friends over the years because I was here. I’m not worthy of your love.”

“Anthony Payne Pierce you stop this right now.”

The use of his full name got his attention, especially since he’d dropped the Pierce name years ago.

“You are more than worthy. I didn’t manhandle you into seeing the therapist for you to think like that. Don’t let these”—she waved her hands again—“ignorant people make you think you are anything but a wonderful human being.”

He fought against grinning at her using the word manhandle. All she’d done was insist he get into her car and told him it was time to get his head on right. “But, Gran,” he started.

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