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It’s good to be back. I sigh as I stare at three months’ worth of mail waiting on my desk. Even the thought of going through all those bills isn’t enough to bring down my mood.
I’ve missed New Jersey, missed my home, and, even more so, the gallery.
Don’t get me wrong, our trip around Europe was fantastic. Meeting new artists in hopes of bringing them to the States, visiting my most-loved piece at The Louvre,Orphan Girlby Eugène Delacroix, and getting to finally step into the National Gallery in England.
Scotland was my favorite stop. It’s where my ancestors are from, after all. Not that I ever met any of my relatives. Or know anything more about them beyond the few names I forced from Dad. But it was amazing to see nonetheless.
I wanted to stay longer. To continue with our new American culture traveling gallery and become more intimate with every art museum and showcase we participated in. But I was also homesick.
Every time I touched a canvas or inhaled the smell of paint, I thought of the S Gallery. And of my own personal studio at home.
My fingers itched to hold a brush. To spill every emotion onto a canvas and lose myself in it.
And I wanted to see Noah again.
“Some hot guy came in looking for you,” Remy, one of the assistants at the gallery, told me. “I think his name was Noah.”
My heart stammered in my chest as I snapped my eyes to her. “What did he want?”
“You, girl. He wanted you. But I told him you were in Europe and would be gone for three months.”
“He didn’t ask for my number?”
“No. Just left.”
It was disappointing that he didn’t leave me a way to reach him, especially since he’d returned specifically to see me. Unless he hadn’t come back for a date but something else altogether.
No. I couldn’t believe that. Not after he followed me home and watched me from across the street the way he did. God, even after all these months, I can still feel his stare, hot on my skin. It should have scared me. Maybe it did a bit. Mostly, it excited me. Every feminine part of my body hummed with awareness.
I may have left, but thoughts of him remained with me the entire time. Golden eyes followed me across the sea and were always present in my mind, at all hours of the day and night. It certainly didn’t help that one of the men who traveled with us and was in charge of packing up the art pieces and moving them from gallery to gallery was named Noah.
He was cute too, with wavy blond hair and light-brown eyes. But he didn’t hold a candle to my Noah.
MyNoah. I can’t believe I’d even think of him that way. Especially since I know nothing about him. I’ve only met the guy once.
Is he a doctor? A car salesman? A drug dealer? I have no idea.
All I have is a name, Noah Russo. And even that doesn’t give me anything.
“I’m heading out, Em.” My father peeks his head into the office. “I should only be a few hours.”
“We just got back and you’re already leaving? It’s the mail, isn’t it?” I ask playfully.
He chuckles. “You’re much better at all that, but that’s not why I have to go. I’ve got a meeting in Newark.”
I frown and peer down at my large at-a-glance monthly calendar. “There’s nothing for today.”
He shrugs. “Some guy is asking about a piece he wants from my private collection. Heard about it through Maxton House and said he wants to make me an offer I can’t refuse. And since I lost the ring and can’t go to Maxton until I find it, it may be worth my time.”
“Why don’t you just call Maxton and tell him?”
Letting out a breath, he shakes his head. “If Maxton finds out it’s lost, I’ll never be allowed into any of those circles. I just have to keep searching.”
I don’t remind him it’s been missing for months now. Instead, I say, “I’m getting a bit hungry. How about we grab a bite and then you can go on your way.”
“I’m already going to be running late, and something tells me Gideon Black doesn’t like to wait. But I can bring you something on the way back.”
Smiling, I nod. “Drive safe.”
