“Oh, look, Maya. This painting intrigues me too,” Cookie said loudly as she approached George’s cityscape. “I have the perfect spot for it.”

“What a waste,” Angela complained to George with a grimace. It was getting late in the evening and they were sitting at a small circular table near the bar. “That piece deserves better than Cookie. It will probably burst into flames when she touches it."

“Sorry, Mrs. Graystone,” Peter said, swooping in to take her ...