Page 20 of For the Love of Art

“Work in a cheese shop? It’s a means to an end.”

“So end it.”

“What?”

“Work for me,” he said so nonchalantly, like we had been discussing this for months.

“Here? At Manning Art Gallery?”

Nathan nodded. “I need someone of your talent, and I just had a position open up.”

I scoff-laughed. Nathan tilted his head.

“You can’t just hire me.”

“It’s my gallery.”

“And a very well known one. This is a big deal. You’re a big deal in the art world. You shouldn’t just hire some random woman off the street who claims to have an Art History degree.”

“Then show me the degree.”

“Oh my God!” My hands flew up to my temples. “This can’t be happening. Nathan Manning is not asking me to dust off my degree to bring it to him. This is some kind of cosmic joke.”

“I swear this is real.”

We looked at each other, thick tension separating us. His features were even and serious. I felt sure I looked panicked and on the verge of running.

“I can’t,” I whispered.

“Can't or won’t?”

“Does it matter?”

“Isla.” I hated how melodic my name sounded out of his mouth. I hated that it stirred something deep in my belly.

“I know you can do this job. Now I want to know why you won’t.”

I looked around at the gorgeous paintings, my eyes burning with tears. “This isn’t my world anymore.” I looked at him. “Your offer is incredible, truly. I can’t accept it, though. I’m sorry.”

Nathan looked perplexed, and I took his silence as an opportunity to go back into the party, feeling his eyes on me the whole time.

Once I was safely hidden in the boisterous crowd, I looked for Lianne, carefully avoiding Don and Marissa. I found her where I left her, with the man who invented something I probably didn’t want to own.

I tapped her shoulder.

“Isla!” She pulled me in linking arms. “Andrew, this is my best friend, Isla. Isla, this is Andrew.”

“Pleasure.” He held his hand out to me, and I took it.

“Hi.” He settled his attention back on Lianne, who was equally as infatuated with him. I leaned over. “Li, I think I’m going to go.”

She snapped her head in my direction. “Oh! I’ll come with you.”

I shook my head. “No. Stay with Andrew.”

I looked at Andrew, and he seemed to think the same thing.

“No, Isla, you’re my date.” Lianne looked at the man she had been swooning over. “You have my number.”