AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shrug and start shutting everything down at the front desk. The computer monitor clicks off, and I putter around, straightening everything on the desk. Anything to buy myself some time before I have to turn around and actually face the reality that I’ve locked myself in with this man. I’m not afraid that he’s going to assault me. It’s rather the opposite, and I’m embarrassed that I am even entertaining the idea that he’d want to. He's just so damn sexy.
"You stay late a lot?" Cal asks, breaking me out of my excruciating thoughts.
Turning around to face him, I lean my hip on the desk and nod, smiling. "Like I said, it’s my favorite part of the night."
"Really? You're not tired? I was tired just watching you," he says with a laugh.
"Well…"Ah, fuck it.I kick off my shoes and give him a bright smile. Who cares if there’s any chance he’d ever like me likethat? He’s a nice, talented, interesting guy, and a friend of Ezra’s. I might as well enjoy his company, especially after he was so kind to me earlier. "Let me show you."
I flick a switch and the main lights go out, the only illumination coming from the ambient twinkle lights and the dim spotlights on the art displays.
"This is when I get to relax and truly enjoy the art," I say, waving my hand to the way the shadows and ambient light cast an ethereal calm around the room. "The quiet after an event like that is heavy, almost hypnotic. It puts me in a different headspace and I feel like I can see deeper into the art.” After a pause, the silence feels like too much, and I start overthinking everything I’ve said, worrying about what a weird loner I must seem like.
“I love the way the darkness of the room and the spotlights make the art stand out. It takes the pomp and circumstance out of it, lets the art speak for itself."
My grin is wide. I like that he seems to prefer the simple things, which shows in many of his photographs.
Cal trails me slowly through the gallery as I get my fill of his amazing talent. Many of the photos are of far-off wonders and famous landmarks, taken from the most interesting angles. "Itmust be amazing to get to travel to so many faraway places."
"It's all I ever wanted. Traveling, I mean. I'm very lucky that I manage to scrape out a living being able to travel."
"You're aworld renownphotographer. You've been featured in nearly every important publication across the world. I think you've more than managed to scrape out a living."
He grins. "Well, I don't like to brag."
My eyes narrow. "Something tells me that's not quite accurate."
Laughing, he says, "Ezra would agree with you on that."
"I don't think it's a bad thing. You should be proud of yourself. That you're able to make a good living doing what you love is amazing. And the difference you've made in the world… absolutely brag worthy."
"You really did your homework, didn't you?"
I flush. The extent of Callaghan Flynn's philanthropy isn't something he goes out of his way to advertise. But I was so blown away by him and his generosity that I just kept digging deeper and deeper, doing far more research than I have on any artist before.
"Just doing my job," I say, brushing off his praise.
We make easy conversation as we wander through the gallery until falling into a comfortable silence. I’m really enjoying his company. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I feel like I’m not the only one trying to drag out the night a bit longer.
Cal breaks the silence just as I find myself forcefully lookingaway from him, not wanting to get caught gawking at how completely gorgeous he is.
"Which is your favorite?" He asks me. Weirdly, the question almost sounds bashful to my ears.
With a small grin, I grab his wrist and pull him across the room, away from the gallery floor. Behind the bar area is a small storage room and an even smaller closet-like space that I turned into an office. I did have an office when Mr. Greggs owned the gallery, but as it was right next to the owner's office. I very easily gave it up when Mr. Vandreth said Cherith needed it. My new office is much smaller, and doesn't have a window, but it works and I've managed to make it comfortable. There's just enough space for my desk, a comfortable chair, and two bookshelves against the wall. A second wall is where I've displayed some of my favorite prints, since I can't afford to buy the real thing. And there, in the middle, is my favorite photograph by Callaghan Flynn.
"Really?" He asks incredulously, and I can't tell if he's confused or amused.
"It's my favorite," I say simply.
It's really nothing like the pieces we have displayed in the gallery, and not one that I found advertised anywhere. I think it might be an older piece. It certainly took a lot of digging to find a print for sale. I had to order it from a tiny gallery all the way in Ireland.
"Where did you even find that?" He says quietly.
"I saw it online when I was doing my research, and then I had to have a print. It was not the easiest to track down, but I found it in a small town in Ireland, actually. Not sure I can pronounceit properly, but I'm sure you could." I'm actually really proud of myself for not mentioning his slight Irish lilt until now.Swoon.
"Aughrim," he says. "My mother and stepfather live there. They own that gallery."
"No! Is Maeve your mother?!"
