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But I can’t.
Armand wasn’t half the man Cole is and his betrayal ruined me. What would become of me if Cole did the same? The thought stabs me down to my soul.
“I’ll accompany him to his show and then I’ll go. We can have that much.”
“Ambri?” Cole calls as the sun begins to sink in the sky. “It’s time. I have to go.”
His voice frays at the edges, but when I join him in the living room, his mouth falls ajar, and he takes a step back. I’m dressed in a sleek black suit, one more elegant than my usual—anart show openingtype of suit.
My own heart stutters to see him in a simple suit of blue with a slate gray tie. He’s still himself—his hair is moppish as ever, his glasses boxy and unstylish. But his broad shoulders in that suit jacket are lusciously masculine and hint at the strength his body possesses. Strength I want to bash myself against like a doomed ship on the rocks of an unknown shore.
“Aren’t we a dapper pair,” I say lamely because Cole’s gaze is undoing me. “Both of us dressed to the tens.”
“Nines,” he corrects absently, still staring. “Are you coming with me?”
I nod. “It is, after all, an entire gallery ofme.”
He laughs, joy radiating off of him, and takes a step toward me. “Ambri…”
I hold up a hand. “Nothing else has changed. It can’t. There is just tonight, and even that might be a terrible mistake.”
His smile vanishes. “Are you in danger? Because if you are—”
“There is danger for me no matter if I stay or go,” I say and offer him a smile. A real one, naked of sarcasm and sharp edges. “I’ll take my chances. Especially if it makes you happy.”
Cole’s expression is bloody heartbreaking in its beauty, and I know in that instant I would suffer a thousand tortures to preserve his happiness.
And that, Liebling, is true love.
From the street, Gallery Decora is full of golden light and packed with people sipping champagne served from trays of circulating waiters. The car drops Cole and me at the curb and he offers his arm.
“Are you ready?” he asks.
“Me? It’s your glory that is imminent. I’m the…what did you call it? Arm confection.”
He laughs. “It’s seems surreal. I’m going to take it one bit at a time. But you…they’re going to lose their shit over you.”
I sigh. “Your modesty would be tedious if it weren’t so genuine.”
We step into the gallery and immediately, the crowd bursts into applause. An elegant woman in a red dress makes a line straight to us and takes Cole’s other arm.
“Cole, darling.”
“Hello, Jane.”
She gives him a kiss on each cheek and nearly loses her composure to see me. Nearly.
“The muse, in the flesh. My, my.”
“Jane Oxley, this is Ambri Meade-Finch.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” she says, offering her fingertips for me to shake. “I suppose thanks are in order. I don’t know how you inspired our Cole to create such masterpieces, but I’m grateful you did.”
I’ll bet, I think and smile pleasantly.
She pulls two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and hands them to us.
“We’re at capacity. Every invited guest replied with a resoundingyes. They all want to be a part of what is about to happen, Cole. To say they were here, at the genesis of your career.”
