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“Logan, you’ll never understand, but we Monroe women have a trait. It’s more of a gift. That night, I knew it was time for me to come here and join you. It finally felt right.”
He looks at me in disbelief, his eyes growing wide. “I won’t even pretend to understand, but whatever the reason, I’m glad you got here.”
“It does feel right, doesn’t it?” Even after all the planning and time it took, I want to hear he’s glad I’m around.
“More than you’ll ever know. Having you has been a Godsend.”
My insides warm at his statement. He is more than capable of handling the business on his own or hiring someone with true artistic knowledge. But he’s been patient with me, understanding my obligations.
“Tell me something, though. Is he the reason you wanted to open a gallery in Miami?”
No use in lying. “It crossed my mind, but he’s not the reason. That would be highly stalkerish. This seemed like the best location out of the two we narrowed it down to.”
“I agree but had to ask.”
“I didn’t know if our paths would cross.”
He nods quickly, satisfied with my answer. “With that being said, let’s get back to something important.”
“What’s that?”
“You need to get that application done in the next week, Grace. It’s time you follow through. At this point, there is nothing standing in your way.”
Hearing this from him fuels my enthusiasm to get into the program, but that enthusiasm quickly fades when Nick’s face flashes through my head. How would he feel about me leaving for a few months?
It’s way too soon to worry about that. Who knows what the future holds?
Logan’s townhome is filled with people when I walk in on Sunday afternoon. I drop off my appetizers on the dining table, which is overloaded with party food, and join the crowd in the living room.
Logan has set up an additional television, and most men are watching with intense interest as the early games come to an end. I give a universal, “Hey,” to everyone and get a few grunts in response. A woman I recognize from a few of these parties scoots next to me.
“Hey, Grace, how are you?”
“I’m gr
eat, Melanie. How are you?”
“Things are going well. Busy with work, but nothing I can’t handle. I was excited when Logan said you’d be here today.”
Her statement puzzles me. Why wouldn’t I be here? I try to attend all his gatherings, not only because he’s my brother but also because I haven’t met many people in Miami. He’s my only outlet for socialization outside of the gallery.
I must do an awful job of hiding my confusion because her face starts to turn pink. “I-I-I mean, when he mentioned his sister was coming. It’s always nice to have another girl in the mix.”
I do a quick survey of the room and see only two other women who look bored out of their minds. It clicks that besides those two—who are girlfriends to Logan’s friends—and me—the sister—Melanie is the only other woman here.
I look at Logan, who glances up, his eyes darting between her and me. It’s then I sense it. There’s something going on between Logan and Melanie. I shoot him a wink and turn to Melanie, now determined to confirm my suspicions.
Her cheeks are still tinted when I smile at her.
“I agree, Melanie. These parties can be filled with way too much testosterone. It’s always nice to have another woman to chat with.”
Her smile returns, and she seems to relax. We make small talk, mostly about the gallery and my experience so far in Miami. I decide after a few minutes that I like her. She’s easy to talk to and a lot more down to earth than any of the other girls Logan has dated.
We’re interrupted by the ringing of my phone, and I excuse myself, walking into Logan’s room when I see the caller. My stomach flips, and I grin goofily, glad no one can witness my reaction.
“Don’t you have a game to prep for?” My question comes out giggly, and I want to slap myself.
Nick laughs, the line filling with the fun-loving sound. “Yeah, actually. I only have a few minutes, but I felt bad about having to jump off so quickly this morning.”
