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“How was Paris?” he asked.
“Simply divine,” she gushed, twirling around. “I met some delightful French men, well actually a lot.” She winked at him.
He chuckled.
“What happens in Paris stays in Paris,” she murmured with a coy wink.
“I think that phrase is for Las Vegas, but sure, we can go with it. I bet you broke a lot of hearts when you flew home.”
“Maybe one or two.” She sat with a great amount of flair on his grandma’s couch. “Tell me about your week?”
He shrugged. “Not much to tell.”
“I bet you hung out with Suzy quite a bit, getting ready for her big show. That must have been nice. Are you two planning another paint night with the love guides?”
“No.” He shook his head. “If I told you once, I told you a thousand times, I don’t date my clients or artists.”
She puckered up her lips. “About that, I’ve been thinking we could change that.”
“She’s an artist,” he said, sitting beside her. “I would never change that about her. It’s part of who she is, just like it was for my mom.”
“Well, we could make her not your client?”
“What? I can’t just not represent her because I’m interested in her.”
“Ah, you are interested.” She shook her finger at him. “I knew it. I just knew it. But what if you no longer owned the art gallery? Then you could date her.”
His eyes widened.
“I have a great amount of fortune and time.” She patted his knee. “If this place makes you so unhappy, I’ll buy it from you above market value. You go back to school and follow your dreams, and I will make sure your mother’s wish and legacy continue.”
“But—” he stammered.
Why was he arguing? This is exactly what he wanted: to be rid of his mother’s gallery. He could finish school, and perhaps Megan could help him get a job at her firm. No more headaches.
But what about the joy he felt watching them achieve their dreams? He loved art whether he wanted to admit it or not. Perhaps this was his dream after all.
It had taken Suzy to help him realize something he should have known. He swallowed hard. He had her to thank.
He took Vivian’s hand. “That is the nicest offer anyone has made me, but I’ve come to realize—”
“You love art and your headaches, after all.”
“What?”
She rolled her eyes. “I know what you refer to us as.”
“But how?”
“I overheard you on the phone once complaining about us.”
Heat rose to his face and spread down his neck. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t fret, darling, especially because you’ve given me a headache a time or two with all your fussing and unpleasantness.” She squeezed his hand tight. “I’m afraid your decision does not solve your dilemma with Suzy. Perhaps you should break your own rules. Live a bit recklessly. After all, life is short.”
“No, I don’t date artists,” he said, letting go of her hand. “It’s just not meant to be, that’s all.”
“Why?” Her eyes scrunched together. “I get the client part, but why not date an artist?”
