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“Thank you,” she said, relaxing a bit as she gazed at it too. “What do you see?”
He was quiet, studying it, before a smirk lifted the corner of his lips. “Spark.”
Nailed it right away.
The Gala carried on as Haven was showered with praise. She basked in it, sipping seltzer water and hanging out with Gavin, laughing and chatting the night away. Kelsey appeared at some point, briefly stopping her to say hello, but Haven barely noticed amidst the chaos. It was more than she had expected, receiving so much acclaim over something she had poured her soul into, and by the time the evening started winding down she felt as if she were floating on air.
It was toward the end of the evening when Gavin’s phone rang, interrupting the tranquility. He pulled it out, silencing it. “I have to get going. Work stuff.”
She frowned. “Thank you for coming.”
“My pleasure,” he said genuinely. “It was nice seeing you again.”
“You, too.”
Smiling, he reached over and caressed her flushed cheek. “See you around, Haven.”
Before she could come up with any words, he walked away. It wasn’t until after he passed through the door that what he had said struck her. It sounded so natural coming from his lips, so casual, that she was lucky to have caught it at all.
Haven.
Coldness washed through her so fast she visibly trembled. Her eyes remained glued to the exit he had disappeared through as her mind frantically worked. Could she be mistaken? Had she misheard? Maybe he misspoke and didn’t really know at all. She had never told him—she was certain of that—so she couldn’t imagine where he would have heard her real name.
Trying to squelch her panic, she walked over to the guest book and flipped back through it, reading the countless names until she came to his: Gavin Amaro.
Her stomach dropped.
She bolted straight for the door. Bursting out to the sidewalk, she took a deep breath of the fresh night air, her heart beating like wildfire in her chest.
She felt it then, the current running across her skin, jolting her spine and warning her. Intuition. Terror coated her like ice as she let out a shaky exhale, swinging around abruptly to face whoever was there.
And in an instant, she nearly lost her balance in her high heels as she stared at a startlingly familiar face, so close she could reach out and touch it. She didn’t, though. She couldn’t move. She just stood there, completely still, as she whispered his name. “Dr. DeMarco?”
* * *
“Hello there.”
Vincent’s greeting hung in the warm air around them, lost somewhere between his lips and her ears. She gaped at him, her face a sheet of white like she had seen a ghost, as she stood in the middle of the sidewalk, wobbling in a pair of high heels. “Dr. DeMarco?”
He let out an awkward chuckle when she said his name for the second time. “Yes.”
She shook her head in disbelief, cautiously surveying their surroundings as she took a step toward him. “Is something wrong? Did something happen?”
“No,” he said, anxiously rubbing the back of his stiff neck as someone stepped out of the gallery behind her. He averted his gaze, turning slightly so he was angled away until they disappeared down the street.
Paranoid, maybe, but he had good reason to be.
“Are you okay?” she asked, taking yet another step toward him. “You seem . . .”
“Sketchy?” he guessed when she trailed off.
“More like nervous,” she replied.
Nervous. That was putting it mildly.
“I’m okay,” he assured her, giving her a smile, hoping it would ease her concerns. “Do you think we can go somewhere to talk?”
“Uh, sure.” Haven glanced briefly behind her at the art gallery before starting toward him. She only made it a few steps before kicking off her shoes and carrying them. She nodded at him, smiling sheepishly, as they started down the street. They walked in silence, her eyes darting to him periodically as if still in disbelief, while he kept his head down, monitoring their surroundings.
