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“Absolutely not,” Piper replies in her Terrifying Mom Voice at the same time as Mia says a firm, “No.”
Nate glances up at us guiltily, then ducks his head and goes to talk to Bailey and Alec. Alec has stars in his eyes, and I think he might be in love with Mia’s daughter.
The steps from the mezzanine to the ground floor are steel, and they echo slightly as we descend, our hands trailing along the handrail attached to a glass balustrade. When we reach the bottom, Mia whistles and joins us.
“Looks good, Georgia.”
“Hello, hello!” a voice calls out from the entrance. Simone’s red hair is silhouetted in the light from outside, making her head look like it’s ringed with fire. She’s pushing a dolly stacked with brown cardboard boxes.
“What’s this?” I ask, striding toward her.
“Party favors for your grand opening,” she says, parking the dolly by the wall and flipping open the top box.
I laugh at the sight of the scented candles packed tightly inside the box. “Wes wouldn’t let you keep them,” I guess.
Simone rears back, offended. “Idecided to donate them to a good cause, thank you very much. Wes had nothing to do with it. He doesn’t dictate the candle purchases in our marriage.”
My insides feel light and bubbly. I hug Simone and thank her for the candles, then start telling the women my plans for the grand opening. Cameron Fuller has agreed to sign a contract and have his work displayed for three months, pending his inspection of the space. I show the women where I’ll set the moveable wall sections and show them photos of the paintings we’ve chosen to display for the opening. The painting of the tragic woman I first saw in Cameron’s studio will be in the place of honor, visible right when people walk in.
Piper squeezes my arm. “You’re doing it, Georgia. You’re really doing it.”
I am, I realize—even though I’ve felt like I have no idea how this will end up. But as I meet Piper’s smiling face, then look at Simone as she bursts with pride, and even at my new friend Mia who’s busy wrangling the children (they’ve discovered an office chair, and Bailey’s riding the chair backwards, cracking an imaginary whip while Nate and Alec drag her along with a length of rope), I realize I haven’t done this alone. I’ve had support from a group of strong women throughout the whole process. They’ve introduced me to contractors, artists, potters, landlords. They’ve built me up and cheered me on. I probably would have hemmed and hawed for weeks, months, even years about starting a gallery if it hadn’t been for them.
Simone’s gaze softens, and I know she understands what’s going through my head. She wraps me up in a tight hug. “We’ve all been there, hun. You’re one of us now, and you’re not alone.”
Mia appears at my elbow and hands me a tissue, and I realize I’m crying. I wipe my face, blow my nose, and take a deep breath. “There’s still a lot to do before the opening. No time for tears.”
“Mom! Mom! Can we go playMinecraftat Bailey’s house?” Nate comes stomping across the gallery space and crashes into his mother’s legs. “Please?”
Piper ruffles his hair and glances at me.
I wave my hands in a shooing motion. “Go.”
The mothers leave with their kids, and as soon as the door closes, it opens again.
Cameron Fuller walks in and smiles at me, spreading his arms. “Wow! Look at this place!”
I steal a quick glance at Simone, who wiggles her eyebrows at me. I stifle a laugh. Cameron is very handsome, but he doesn’t do anything for me. Not when I’ve got a man like Sebastian to call mine. But Cameron is still very important: he’s the reason other artists are willing to work with the gallery.
Normally, I’d deploy Flirty Georgia. I’d smile and tilt my head, and let my eyes glimmer a little when he moved too close to me, softening my rejections with smiles and laughter. But I think it might be time for me to retire that version of me. I don’t want to erect a shield around myself in that way. I want to stand in my gallery and be myself, for once.
“You like it?” I ask, then explain to him where I envision his work being displayed.
He stands next to me, his shoulder brushing mine, and smiles. “This is better than what I imagined. I can’t wait to work with you.” There’s heat to his words, as if he thinks we’ll be doing more than working. “When are you going to let me paint you?” he purrs.
“Probably never,” I tell him candidly, which makes him laugh. I take a tiny sidestep so our arms aren’t touching anymore and conceal the movement by gesturing to the stairs. I babble about pottery, then tell him about the safety measures I’ve installed to keep the artworks safe while they’re in the gallery’s possession, pointing to the storage space behind the back wall.
Simone comes to my rescue and asks Cameron about his work, occupying him for a few moments. But his eyes are on me. I feel them as I prattle about framing and labels, and it makes me vaguely uncomfortable. I need to nip this in the bud and make sure he knows I have no interest in having a relationship beyond artist and gallerist.
Then the door opens once more, and Sebastian strides through, his adoring dog bounding after him.
My body turns electric. All the air leaves the room, and my gaze is drawn to only him. I couldn’t look away if I tried. His worn boots echo on the hardwood floors, and he removes his hat with a smooth, familiar motion. His gaze promises heat and tangled sheets, and I’m ready to jump him and wrap my legs around his waist before I remember where I am.
Right. I’m a professional, not a sex-crazed maniac.
I gesture to the painter. “Sebastian, this is Cameron Fuller. He’s going to be the featured artist for the opening.”
Sebastian keeps looking at me for a long moment, then finally tears his eyes away. I almost collapse. Lust and excitement and nerves buzz through me, leaving me weak.
