Page 22 of For the Love of Art

I laughed.

“I’ve never been a part of one quite like this.”

“We’re coming to another opening, right?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m sure I will never see Nathan Manning again.”

Lianne’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“He offered me the position of curator, and I pretty much told him he was crazy, then bounced.”

Lianne’s jaw dropped.

“Are you serious?” She grabbed my hand and pulled me back toward the gallery. “You are taking that job!”

I wrenched my hand out of her grip.

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

She reached for my hand again, but I quickly backed away so she couldn’t. She crossed her arms and glared at me.

“What?”

“You were just handed your dream job on a platter and refused it.”

Lianne didn’t just look angry— she looked sad.

“It would mean working for one of New York’s most eligible playboys. It feels like he offered it to get me to his penthouse.”

“Or maybe he heard how brilliant and in your element you are when it comes to art.”

My lips parted, words sitting just at the tip of my tongue, but ultimately never left.

“Isla, you need to take your life off hold.”

“It’s not on hold.”

Lianne’s expression grew tired. “Isla. One of the most prestigious galleries in New York hand picked you.”

Tears stung my eyes.

“It sucked saying no,” I admitted. “I’m scared. I’m scared that I’ll fail. I’m scared he only offered it to me because he thinks I’m pretty.”

“Oh, fuck him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to avoid,” I joked.

Lianne shook her head. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m happy where I am.”

“You’re happy working in a tiny little cheese shop where people call you Eez-la, listening to Frankie’s constant breakups, and doing a pretty shitty job cutting cheese wedges?”

“Hey! I think I’ve gotten pretty good at that.”

“Isla, I love you, but no. You really suck at cutting cheese, and I didn’t even realize that was a thing someone could suck at,” Lianne said. “And I get it. Frankie and I are just a layover before your final destination. We’ve always known that.”