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She glanced at the phone again, and it buzzed on the ceramic counter, skittering closer to her toothbrush. Picking it up, she expected to see Myla’s name flash across the screen, but instead it was an email notification.
“Shit,” she murmured, the knot in her stomach tightening. “It’s probably nothing, though.”
She’d checked the damn thing every three seconds for days now, and it still hadn’t been anything from the gallery—not even the polite form letter informing her that she was, in fact, a talentless loser. Odds were, this was just another chain message from her mother letting her know that if she didn’t forward it to twenty-five people, the ghost of an ax murderer was going to ruin all her kitchen appliances.
Sliding her thumb over the message, she glanced at her inbox.
In big, bold letters, there was a message that said Congratulations from the Elemental Gallery of San Diego.
Her heart jumped into her throat and she tapped the screen, her gaze zooming over the words so quickly that she had to read the message three times just to make sure it wasn’t all in her head.
Dear Ms. Forrester,
Thank you for offering your excellent work to our gallery. We would be honored to showcase your talent. While we are normally booked a few months in advance, a sudden cancellation has made it possible for us to offer you the chance to display your photographs in our gallery this weekend. If you would be so kind as to confirm your attendance, we will send along more details.
All the Best,
Gretta
Elemental Gallery, San Diego
Oh. My. God.
There were no words. No words at all.
Taking her silky pink robe from the back of the door, she wrapped it around herself and then stepped into the bedroom, trying to tamp down her excitement. It was stupid, really. Photographers got shown in galleries all the time.
So what if this was her first one?
And so what if half her excitement was due to the fact that Holden was here to share this moment with her? It didn’t mean anything.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and she sucked her lips in, unsure how to tell him the big news. He glanced up at her, his own phone in his hand, and then he tossed it aside and turned the full blinding force of his grin on her.
“Hey there,” he said.
“Hey.” She rubbed a towel through her hair, then dropped it to the floor and kicked it for good measure. “Good morning.”
“Good morning. Or afternoon. Sort of lost track of time today.” Holden shrugged.
“That’s okay. You can get back to pulling buses with your bare hands or whatever it is you do for training tomorrow.”
He laughed. “Actually, I have plans for tomorrow. And I hope you do, too.”
“Oh yeah?” That was less than expected. But her plan could wait until they talked. It was fine.
“Yeah.”
Avery stood in front of her dresser and surveyed her sea of makeup before finally selecting a concealer and getting started on her routine.
“My mother just called. She’s going to be in San Diego tomorrow.”
“Oh?” she asked, doing her best not to stab herself in the eye with her eyeliner just thinking about it.
After all, she wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to hang out with Holden’s family. She was proud of Holden and everything, and she knew he loved his brothers deeply. But one-on-one time with Mr. and Mrs. Killjoy?
No, thank you.
“You don’t want to go,” he said flatly.
