Page 7 of Before I Lost You

“You’re going to a lot of trouble for someone merely interested.”

“Oh, this is a beautiful photograph,” Glenda says, and when I look at her, she has a soft smile on her face. “He is very talented. His self-portraits sell like hot cakes around here. I wonder why that is.”

“He’s gorgeous, that’s why,” I murmur before I even realize what I’m saying, and my cheeks heat when she chuckles, and Emerson outright laughs.

“Not obsessed, my ass,” he mutters.

“Did you want to purchase this piece?” Glenda asks, and I nod. “We can have it delivered as early as tomorrow. Will that work for you?”

“Yes.” I smile tightly. “The sooner the better.”

“Great. You can follow me to finalize your purchase,” she says, and I follow her back to the lobby. She directs me into an office and closes the door. Emerson sits to my left, and she sits across from us behind a wooden mahogany desk. “Did you want it delivered with the same frame, or are you going to purchase your own frame?”

“I’ll take it as is.” I smile. “I want to hang it up immediately.”

“Of course you do.” Glenda’s eyes sparkle as she looks at me knowingly. Am I being that obvious? “How would you like to pay today?”

I hand over my card, and she gives me a receipt, asking for my information. Name, phone number, address. The basics. We set up a delivery time for tomorrow, and I exhale roughly when she says she’s all done. She raises an eyebrow, and I smile, but it’s wobbly at best.

“I have one more request,” I tell her, and she grins. “Please.”

“What may that be?” Glenda asks as if she knows exactly what’s about to come out of my mouth.

“I’d like to get in contact with him,” I reply, shaking slightly.

“Kenneth Dunn is a difficult man to get in contact with,” she tells me, but her smile hasn’t vanished, so there must be hope.“Do you know how many people have tried? Menandwomen. He never agrees.”

“Um—” I stutter, unable to think clearly. “I’ll leave my information anyway. Just in case. You can just give him my name and number.”

“And what shall I describe you as?”

I grimace. “You can say I’m the guy who ran out.”

Glenda chuckles, nodding as she writes everything down on a notepad. “Consider it done.”

“Thanks, Glenda,” I say, meaning it. “I don’t have high hopes, but thank you.”

“You never know.” She winks at me, and I relax a little bit. Maybe I’m not that pathetic for doing this if I’m not the first one. But that also bothers me slightly. If we were a couple and he was chased after like this constantly, how would that make me feel?But you’re not a couple, dumbass. Probably never will be.

“Right.” I nod once, getting up from the chair, and Emerson does the same. “I hope you have a great day. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for a text.”

She grins. “I’m rooting for you. Maybe his next photograph will be of you.” I shake my head with a chuckle. “You never know.”

“That’s right, Con,” Em says with a grin. “There’s always hope.”

“Alright, Mr. Romantic.” I grin back. “Let’s get out of here. I need to stop by the office today.”

“Conrad, it’s Sunday.” Emerson rolls his eyes, and I open the door and step out. He follows. “You’re not going to work.”

“Only for a little bit.” I roll my eyes at him, too. “I have shit to do, Em. Some of us actually have responsibilities.”

“Oh, fuck off.” He chuckles. “I’m plenty responsible.”

“Be for fucking real.” I laugh. “You wouldn’t step foot inside that office on a weekend if your life depended on it.”

“You’re right, because unlike you, I’m not married to my job,” he huffs. “Also, last night you said you want someone who isn’t a workaholic. Well, they usually look for partners who aren’t either. You can’t expect someone to want to be with you with the schedule you keep.”

I frown. “You’re right. But I’m not tied down, so it doesn’t matter.”