Chapter one
Rosenna
Hearingasmallknockon the door, I barely glanced up, catching my assistant’s reflection in the glass panel of my office door, hair perfect, expression determined, holding my coffee like she was about to deliver life-saving medicine.
“Rose, I brought you your coffee,” Kira whispered.
I nodded thankfully as I finished up the call I was on: “That’s not a problem. Just let me know what time works for you, and we’ll schedule an interview and consultation.”
The person on the line bid me goodbye.
Kira stood at the end of my desk and crossed her arms. “Are you trying to secretly replace me?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.
I shook my head as I held the cup in both hands. “Not at all. I’m openly trying to replace you, Kira.”
She scoffed as she shook her head and took a seat on one of the chairs across from my desk.
Her dark brown hair straightened to perfection to outline her even more stunning face. We’d met a few years ago in our last year of college and had been attached to the hip ever since.
When we were supposed to branch off and go our separate ways with our business degrees, she remained conjoined at my hip, letting me know that the only way she’d tackle this big scary world was if I was in the driving seat. Meaning if I was going off the edge, she’d be right there with me grinning ear to ear. In return for steering the ship, she became my rock, my safe place, my shoulder to cry on.
“How did it go?” she asked seriously, and I sighed.
“Fine, I guess. I’m still trying to find a few more well-known artists who would be interested in selling to make a profit. The amateurs and newbies haven’t been bringing in a lot of income in the last month or so.”
She nodded in understanding. This had been our predicament for a few months now.
Owning three museums isn’t hard. In the heart of Chelsea, New York, it was easy to find artists looking to dip their toes into this field, leaving us with endless opportunities to showcase different art. From contemporary to avant-garde to everything in between and out. The government funding and nonprofit organizations that help keep the lights on and water running are also a plus.
The income is steady for the most part, and our auctions, art expos, and events often keep me very busy and Kira very agitated when things aren’t perfect. Making her do all of my excessive preparation allows me some peace of mind. Perfectionist that she is, she’d probably lose sleep over a misplaced brochure.Better her than me.
All in all, being twenty-nine, owning three properties, being happily married, and being relatively successful has its perks… but when you’re in debt almost four million dollars, it makes you wonder if your choices are well thought out, especially when that steady income is being shelled towards a mortgage loan faster than your bank account can catch up.
The unpaid invoices sat in my inbox like a ticking time bomb, every month another reminder that success was a shiny illusion. On paper, I had everything. In reality? I had maybe six months before I found myself drowning again.
Kira stood up and nodded as she grabbed some of the files on my desk and the unopened mail.
“Don’t worry, Rose… Everything will work itself out. And by the way, Gavin is waiting on the line.”
My eyes widened, and I glared at her as I picked up the phone and began dialing him in.
“Why didn’t you tell me!?” I whisper-yelled.
“Because I had to get you coffee, you were on an important call, he’s a dick… do you want me to go on?” She pursed her lips in thought.
I shooed her away as my husband spoke into the phone.
“Rosenna, you didn’t answer your cell.”
Hearing his voice, I inhaled deeply before speaking.
“Hi, Gavin… Sorry, I was on an important call.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment.
“What time will you be home? I wanted us to have dinner around seven.”
It wasn’t a question. I could tell by the tone.
