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It all depended on Beth and whether she went for his plan or not.
“Stay in touch, won’t you, son?”
He’d never heard his father sound so humble and it gave him hope that maybe they could salvage something from their relationship after all.
“Uh-huh.”
Aidan almost disconnected when his dad rushed in. “Son, your mother and I are proud of you, always have been.”
It was the closest Aidan would get to a declaration of love and for now, it had to be enough. He knew Abe was a thinker, someone who would ponder this conversation at length before drawing his own conclusions.
“Thanks, Dad, bye.”
After sliding his cell into his jacket pocket, he took one last look around the office, picked up his box, and headed for the door.
Time for this staid professor to start living again.
ChapterEleven
Beth double checked the address on the fancy embossed card, looked up at the swank city gallery, and back at the card.
This couldn’t be the right place.
She’d been invited to scope out a possible home for her next collection, and considering it would take at least six months for the lease to come through on her own space, she’d been interested. The weird thing was, it looked like this gallery wasn’t only considering her next collection, as every piece she’d made for her last collection already took pride of place here.
The front windows were filled with twisted metal shrubs, flowers, and garden gnomes, her interpretation of the heritage gardens around Melbourne, and some of her best work.
Cupping her hands against the glass, she pressed her face between them, so shocked she stumbled back.
It wasn’t just the front windows housing her work. The whole damn gallery was filled with it, the metal pieces at odds with a heap of old masks and pottery pieces and ceramics. Not to mention her Sydney Opera House taking pride of place on a raised dais in the middle of the room.
“What the…” She trailed off as she stepped inside the gallery, her mouth dropping open as Aidan popped up from behind the glass and chrome counter, looking more relaxed than she’d ever seen him.
“What are you doing here?”
He didn’t respond immediately, his charismatic smile sending her belly into a free fall she had no hope of recovering from. It had always been like this, from the first minute she met him and, despite the wedge she’d deliberately driven between them, it looked like her reaction to the sexy CEO hadn’t waned at all.
“Well? What’s this all about?”
He shrugged, his shoulders impossibly broad in black cashmere as he came around from behind the counter to stand in front of her. “This is our place.”
“Our place?”
She shook her head, feeling like she’d stepped into a time warp or some weird alternate universe where everyone knew what was going on but her.
“I want a place to show-case our work so I’ve leased this space, bought the unsold pieces from your last collection, trumped the top bidder for the fundraiser piece, and added some of my own stuff. I’m confident we can keep the place stocked with your work and my new finds.”
She hated the traitorous leap of hope her heart gave. “That’s going to be difficult, finding stuff from behind a desk, isn’t it?”
He tipped her chin up, his smile patient. “I quit.”
Brushing away his hand—she couldn’t think with the havoc his touch wrought on her body—she said, “Hope it wasn’t on my account.”
“Actually, this has everything to do with you.”
She took a step back at the intent in his eyes. He looked way too confident, too intense, too focused—on her.
“You were right. Being stuck behind a desk isn’t me.”
