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Patrick’s eyebrows shot up. It was a very vague answer, which made him all the more curious.
“Okay, but where did you mostly live as a child?”
“I spent most of middle and high school in San Diego,” Emma said. “And that’s where my parents still live.”
“So, you also chose Chicago. What brought you here?”
Emma gave a strange little half-snort, half-sigh, then quickly clapped her hand to her mouth. “Um, work.”
“Did you come for this job, then?”
“No, um, the job before this.”
“And where were you before Chicago?”
“Around.” Emma gave that vague hand wave again, then crossed her arms and put on a mock distressed look. “What is this, an interrogation? My life isn’t that interesting.”
“I disagree.” Patrick met her eyes and saw Emma blush and look away. She was gorgeous, funny, and clearly intelligent, which would have been enough to pique his interest any day. But throw in a mystery, and he was sold.
“Look, we’re past the city lights.” Emma had turned to the window when she looked away and was now glued to the glass again, taking in everything below them. “The roads look like strings of Christmas lights on the ground.”
“They kind of do.” It was a clear topic change, but Patrick would let it go for now. They would have the whole evening together to talk and get to know each other.
“How long have you owned this gallery?” Emma continued.
“About six months. It’s still very new, which, like I said, is why I’d love your opinion on it.”
“And like I said, I’m happy to offer my opinion, but I’m no expert.”
“I’m not so sure about that. The painting you recommended, Sunshine on Young Faces? I wasn’t sure about it, but I took it home after the gala and hung it in my personal collection, and now I find myself drawn towards it. Something about it makes me happy, and you were right that everyone should have a few things like that.”
“Thanks.” Emma blushed, but she was also smiling. “I’m glad you like it. I was a little worried that you were giving up a bunch of money for a painting you thought was girly.”
Patrick chuckled. “Maybe girly isn’t so bad all the time.”
They chatted about art and work for the rest of the flight. Patrick shared a few stories from when the company first started and Owen had been the whole art acquisition department by himself.
“The man was so flustered trying to do everything that he once booked a ticket to Portland, Maine, for a gallery visit instead of Portland, Oregon. That’s when I knew I had to get him a team right away.”
Emma laughed at that story and the rest that Patrick told. She also shared a few of her thoughts on recent paintings that LWC had acquired, but Patrick noticed that she continued to steer clear of personal topics. Perhaps she didn’t feel comfortable with him yet. Well, he was going to do all he could to change that.
When they arrived in Cincinnati, Patrick escorted Emma out of the helicopter.
“Is this the gallery?” she asked. She looked around with apparent confusion at the skyscraper they’d landed on and the view of Cincinnati below.
“No.” Patrick chuckled and held out his arm. “This is Ruben Adams’ office. The gallery is only a few blocks away, but it doesn’t exactly have helicopter parking. He was kind enough to let us use his helipad."
"Oh.” Emma gave a sheepish smile. “I guess you really are good friends.”
“Good enough. Let’s just say I wouldn’t land on Aleksander Ariti’s roof.”
Emma laughed, but it wasn’t her normal laugh. Something sounded a little off. It was clear that she felt uncomfortable about Aleksander ever since he’d pulled her off for that dance. Even though she’d told him that Aleksander hadn’t said anything, Patrick suspected something different.
“Are you sure nothing happened between you and Aleksander?” Patrick asked. “Just the mention of his name seems to worry you.”
“No, no,” Emma answered quickly, almost too quickly. “There’s nothing going on. I find him a little unsettling.”
“Are you sure? Because if he said something to you…” Patrick let the thought trail off, but he hoped that Emma could read between the lines. He would protect her from Aleksander, or anyone else who wanted to hurt her, without a moment’s hesitation.
