Page 47 of For the Love of Art

“You don’t have to,” I said quietly.

“Yes, I do. It was wrong of me.”

“Maybe I….”

I was barely ready to admit to myself that I wanted the kiss. I couldn’t tell him.

When I didn’t finish my thought, he said, “Well, I just want you to know I’m sorry. I hope you’ll continue working here.”

“Assuming the paparazzi don’t call me another one of Nathan Manning’s ladies, I should be good.”

Nathan showed no signs of amusement at my joke. “I’m not that much of a celebrity.”

“Says the man in half the city’s tabloids.”

“Like I said, those magazines don’t know me, and with all due respect, neither do you.”

“Don’t I?”

Nathan wet his lips. We both knew what I was saying without me expanding. He’d brought me to his apartment like many women before me. He’d tried to kiss me. Whether it was his intent for the evening or not, I wasn’t necessarily surprised he did it. He had presented me the exact Nathan Manning the magazines wrote about.

Nathan clicked his tongue. “I’m sorry, Isla.”

I was at a crossroads where I had to either accept his apology and move forward or awkwardly work with him. I looked around my office and wondered if this was worth giving up.

“Why did you want to show me that painting?”

“Because right now, abstract and modern work is what’s selling, but I really think this artist could be big,” Nathan explained.

I nodded. “I agree.”

“I was looking for your input because it would change what Manning Galleries offers and could be a risk.”

His tone was back to his business one. For some reason, that bothered me.

“It could also be a welcome change.”

Nathan shrugged. “That’s why I asked you.”

I pondered this momentarily, then said, “I think it’s a risk worth taking.”

“I’m glad you think so, but right now, I’m more concerned about you and me after last night. So?”

“You’re forgiven.”

Nathan let out a long breath.

“Thank you.”

He pointed to the door I was still flush against, and I moved so he could leave.

Once he was gone, I sat down on the horrible yellow couch. My heart beat rapidly against my chest, and my office felt… empty. I peered out the door into the main gallery where Nathan and Dori were talking. As I watched them, it dawned on me. I wanted Nathan in here with me.

“Go get some lunch, Dori,” I said as I walked out onto the gallery floor later that day. “I’ll handle things here.”

Dori left with a quick word of thanks. I took her seat, moving her stack of papers for my own. Just as I got into a flow with cataloging, I heard–

“Isla?”