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She fell back a step as her body flashed with molten heat. “Oh my God! How am I supposed to talk sensibly on camera today when I’ll be thinking aboutthat.”
“You asked,” he all but sang in his sexy Irish accent.
“You’re a total flirt.” She kissed him soundly on the mouth. “I love it. Never stop. Assuming we’re soulmates and all. All right, now that I am totally overheated and horny, we need to go. God, I can’t believe this is my first week. If you knew what I had in my head…”
“Come on.” He took her hand. “We’ll take your car. I can have someone drop me home later to pick something up after work. Assuming you’re finished for the day.”
“I’m going late with the American media tonight. West Coast and all.”
“Can I make you dinner then? So you can come home and just chill?”
Her heart fluttered in her chest. “I’d love that. And I’ll return the favor when you need it.”
“I don’t keep score, but I like the idea of things being equal between us. Relationships with balance tend to be happier.”
“Yeah, imbalance breeds resentment. Been there, done that. You good with me driving?”
“Of course. Like I said, equal. You won’t find me clinging to gender roles in our relationship.”
He watched as she set the alarm, and then they walked out the front door. She glanced at him as she unlocked her car. “But you’ll still take the garbage out, right? Because I really hate that.”
He was laughing as they got in her car. “I can do that.”
She started the engine. “And kill spiders. That’s nonnegotiable.”
His touch on her thigh was electrifying. “Anything you need,a stór.Always. But just so you know, I try and bring insects outside and not kill them if I can.”
Of course he did. “That works for me so long as you understand I’m not as interested in coaxing pests into jars to release. Still love me?”
She meant it playfully, but he only smiled. “You know it.”
Putting the car in gear, she decided it was telling that she didn’t freak out after that exchange.But she did have trouble remembering to drive on the left. When they arrived at the center, he kissed her goodbye and wished her a good day. She stood by the car and touched her lips as she watched him walk over to one of the center’s sheds. She could still feel his touch, his heat, and the sweet care he put into every caress.
“You’re already in love with him.”
Turning, she spotted Ghislaine in the doorway to the center, dressed in her black Chanel suit with her long blond hair trailing down in perfect locks. “No comment,” she replied, but then she smiled.
Ghislaine smiled back. “That’s perfect, but don’t say it too often or people will think you have something to hide.”
She reflected on that wisdom during the first interview as she answered question after question about the Veritas mural. Her favorite:what does it feel like to be enshrined in an artistic masterpiece?
She wished she could send that one with a photo of her mural to her old art teachers.
She’d picked a purposefully neutral answer:I try not to think about it.
Yeah, she really did.
Ghislaine sent her media impression sheets by email every two hours, organized with tabs demarcating the source, location the piece was published, and her overall impressions. One thing Taylor really liked were theNoteworthyitems in response to what had happened at the center, anything from a heartfelt post from a street artist in a highly repressed country who was inspired to paint something about the current government to a mayor from a small town in the Midwest United States who’d suggested they start their own arts center.
She worked that mayor’s call to action into an interview with a leading New York newspaper, and after the interview ended, Ghislaine put her arm around her and gave her the highest praise: “You’re a natural.”
“But I feel really guilty about not helping you more on the media side,” Taylor protested despite her inner somersaults of joy. “You’re being inundated with media requests and the press conference has to be work-intensive—”
“And when would you have time to help?” Ghislaine clicked on her tablet and turned it over. “Do you see any holes in this schedule?”
Taylor had to wince. “I don’t have to sleep.”
Ghislaine gave a very French sounding snort. “Like you don’t have to spend time with your soulmate either…”
