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“Maybe you should stay out of this,” he snapped, glaring back at me. “This has nothing to do with you.”
I sucked in an icy breath at his harsh tone. “Actually, it does,” I said, as a shiver rolled through my body. “I invited him.”
Three bewildered faces turned my way and I swallowed the lump in my throat, realising how much I’d fucked up.
“Why would you do that?” Grayson’s fiery gaze singed my skin.
Melanie grimaced. “I didn’t tell you about him so you could play matchmaker!”
Scott turned back to Melanie in surprise, but didn’t utter a word.
I peered up at Grayson, but he refused to meet my eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“We need to go,” he said quickly, texting his driver.
“There you are!” A high-pitched voice floated from the entrance. “I knew you’d forget our coats, so I grabbed them on the way out.”
Scott turned to his date as she stepped outside. “Thanks, Cindy.”
“It’s Mindy,” she corrected, smiling tightly.
“Right, sorry.” His eyes softened as he gazed over Melanie one last time, before taking his date’s hand. “Let’s go.”
We all stood completely still, and deathly quiet, until they were out of sight.
“I truly am sorry,” I said, turning back to face the music. “I just thought…”
“I’ll get our coats,” Grayson muttered, striding back into the gallery.
Melanie didn’t seem to hear either of us. Her faraway gaze crumbled into her hands as tears ran down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Melanie,” I whispered, placing my hand on her shoulder as she sobbed.
Flinching at my touch, she straightened her posture like nothing happened. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” she said, unusually bright.
Grayson reappeared with their coats under his arm and ushered Mel into the private car that rolled up beside us. Before climbing in after her, he met my gaze, baring no expression. “We’ll talk later.”
As the car sped off, I returned to my exhibition to find the curator speaking animatedly to the gallery director. His eyes lit up when he saw me and almost bowled me over.
“Josie! There you are! You won’t believe it,” he gushed.
That I’m a horrible person? I got the memo.
My brow lifted, too drained to match his excitement. “Believe what?”
“You’ve sold everything!”
* * *
I should’ve been celebrating, but I was pissed off, upset and riddled with guilt. After wrapping up my long night at the gallery, I walked out onto the street, praying for a cab to take me home to bed.
Instead, I found Grayson leaning back against his car with his arms crossed.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, instantly annoyed.
“It’s late. I’m driving you home.” He opened the passenger door.
“I’m fine. I have a cab coming.” I just haven’t booked it yet.
