“Rosenna,” Gavin muttered.
I shook my head. “I’ll be up for bed in a minute,” I whispered.
He lingered. I could feel him debating whether to push or just let it drop, so I braced myself for the worst.
Then, he exhaled sharply and left the room. Fleeting footsteps and a door shutting, and finally silence, just me and the dishes I sat scrubbing with the scalding hot water grazing my skin.Maybe if I scrubbed hard enough, I’d wash away the growing lump in my throat.
Gavin had never liked my business. He tolerated it. Yet when he asked one of his friends to give me a loan, I never expected him to be so aggressive in suggesting I wouldn’t ever be able to repay it—which may very well be true.As nice as Brent was to lend me the money, he was almost like a loan shark. He upped the interest by a substantial amount every year and never wanted to negotiate anything with me.
Finishing up the dishes, I dried my hands as I looked down at my phone to see a message from Kira.
Kira
Agenda for the week. Vincent Garcia’s son confirmed.
Holding my phone up to my heart, I sighed.
I was wishing heavily on the bright star that I called Kira… She was the only person I truly believed in, because no matter what, she always believed in me.
Chapter two
Rosenna
Walkingupstairstothegallery showrooms, I watched as Kira ran around in a panic, trying to sort everything out. I didn’t bother her because this was her time to be panic-perfect. She claimed she worked better in this way under pressure, and respectfully, I chose to keep my distance as I watched her run around like a chicken with its head cut off.
Dressed in a beige long-sleeved knit top, khaki pants, and a pair of white heels, I felt physically ready for the meeting but not mentally prepared. My anxiety was at its peak as I began second-guessing whether or not we would make a good impression.
The stress must’ve been written on my face, because Kira’s eyes widened as she approached me.
“No. Now is not the time to have self-doubt. Now is the time to put on a show and sell this place like your life depends on it.”
“What if it all falls apart?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended with Gavin’s words coiled tight around my throat.
Kira raised her hand before slowly clenching it in a fist. “Rose. Please. You can do this. We were just fine yesterday. I swear to God, if you let Gavin get into your head about not being good enough, I will lock you in my trunk and take you home. Do you understand? Gosh, I’m so stressed my threats don’t even seem to be performing at their optimal level. Get it together, boss.”
I nodded, doing my best to come to my senses. Going over to my office, I set my purse on my desk before leaving to continue helping with the final touches.
Kira smoothed the creases from her shirt as they slowly piled in through the doors, then quickly went down to retrieve them. Adjusting a few flyaways in my office, I stepped out with a smile as a group of well-dressed men ascended the steps.
“This is our main area for exhibits and expos. We provide amenities for all occasions and events, allowing our artists to customize anything they choose… And here we have our director, Rosenna Hart. Rosenna, these are just a few of the marketing, advertising, and personal assistants of Mr. Garcia—as well as his son,Beckham.”
I introduced myself to the eight or nine assistants as politely as I could… however, as I did, I felt a heavy, dark gaze on me from the edge of the group—a gaze that made my skin crawl as the hairs on the back of my neck raised in alarm.
As I introduced myself to one of his marketing assistants, Beckham’s eyes lingered on me. In his half button white shirt and black fitted pants, his presence was captivating, his aura was alluring, and the look in his eyes seemed rather… dangerous. It almost pinned me in place the way it was so intense.
My pulse ticked against my throat. I forced my gaze away, focusing on Kira’s practiced enthusiasm. The man didn’t introduce himself, but I didn’t need him to. His was the only name to a face I didn’t make…Beckham.
Continuing with the presentation of the gallery, Kira and I guided them through the building. Introductions out of the way, now I took charge of the spiel. “We have a vast amount of space for our artists to display as much of their work as they desire, and if requested, the entire museum can be dedicated to them for the duration of their booking in order to gain some foot traffic and publicity.” Kira chimed in here and there in order to upsell the space.
Eventually, we went toward the conference room to discuss pricing and expectations further.
As we stepped inside, time slowed. The whole time I’d been presenting the gallery, I’d felt Beckham’s overbearing gaze upon me, the man shamelessly staring me down. Now we were in the conference room, the moreconfinedspace, I felt him almost directly behind me, hovering over me in a way that felttoo close. I looked up at him for a moment, and I felt my knees weaken slightly as his gaze hardened. His eyes were dark brown, his jaw chiseled. His hair had an attractive, disheveled look to it, and my eyes betrayed me as they shamelessly ran over his defined build.
Rosenna, snap out of it.
I shook myself from my thoughts and practically blushed like a schoolgirl.
Luckily, Kira was back on presenting duties, talking through arrangements and pricing structures. By the time she’d finished, I had control of myself again, and I joined her in outlining expectations of both parties.
