“How did you go? You look fantastic.” My best friend Rosanna looks me up and down when I meet her for coffee later in the afternoon.
“Good. I think.” I take a gulp of the chai she ordered for me while she waited.
“You don’t sound sure.”
“Well, the presentation went well. It seemed like pretty much everyone was on board. Harry Carter, the managing partner, was super positive …”
“But?”
“There was this one partner; I think his name is Nicholas. He didn’t even bother to introduce himself. I travelled up with him in the lift. I had no idea who he was, and we got off to a bit of a bad start.” I settle into the comfy velvet wingback chair and cross my legs.
“What happened?”
“He was so rude, Ro. I was running for the lift, and he didn’t even attempt to hold it for me. Then I lost my balance and accidentally trod on his very expensive shoe. I felt terrible. It left a great big scratch. I apologised, but it didn’t seem to help. I would’ve offered to replace them, but his attitude really got my hackles up. Then he was late to the meeting, scowled through the whole thing and left without saying a word. I’m pretty sure I didn’t impress him.”
“Well, he’s only one of how many partners?”
“Eight.”
“Maybe he’s a cranky old fart.” Rosanna picks at the banana bread we’re sharing.
“Cranky? For sure. Old fart? Definitely not. You should see this guy. It’s just as well he was an arse; otherwise, I might have embarrassed myself by drooling.”
“Ooooh. Do tell. On a scale of one to Alexander Dreymon, how hot was he?”
“Oh, a full Alexander Dreymon.” I close my eyes and think. “He has the lips, you know? And the eyes. Not to mention he must be at least six foot two. And the suit … He looks like he stepped right off the page ofGQmagazine.” I laugh and roll my eyes, remembering the feel of him pressed against my back in the lift and the quick shiver which ran down my spine as he walked into the meeting, despite his scowl. Or maybe because of it. He has a stellar smoulder.
“Wow. I think I could put up with quite a lot of arse-holery for that.” Ro smacks her lips together, grinning.
“And he smells delicious too. Like expensive leather and sex.” I let out a sigh. “Why are the gorgeous ones always arseholes?”
Ro laughs, shrugging. “Because they can be, I guess.”
“Anyway, I’m just there—I hope—to do a job. No fraternising. Besides, he made it very clear he didn’t like me.”
“Didn’t like you? How could anyone not like you?” Ro might, of course, be a tad biased.
“I have no idea. I scratched his shoe, so I guess he was understandably pissy about that, but I felt like there was something else. Regardless, I need this job, not romantic complications. It’s a super high-profile law firm, so it could lead to all sorts of other work, and until my paintings start to sell, I need to keep myself afloat.” I press the last crumbs of the banana bread with the pad of my finger and slide them onto my tongue. “I have to focus on work and finishing the painting I’m working on. I’ve almost convinced Sebastian Black to consider my work for a solo exhibit. I’m nearly there. I’d like maybe a couple more paintings to show him.”
“Didn’t I tell you The Black Gallery was the right place for you?” Ro holds up her hand for a high-five, which gets a smile from the elderly couple at the next table.
“I’m not over the line yet. He won’t commit until he sees some more of my work.” I shrug. “But it’s looking hopeful. Anyway, enough about me. How are you doing?”
Rosanna rolls her eyes and pouts. “Nothing new to tell. Work is going pretty well. The costumes we’re making for this season are to die for, but I’m still not getting a chance to do much designing beyond adding the frou-frou.” She frowns. “And boys are stupid. You know, sometimes I don’t think Marco is interested in me at all. Do you think maybe he’s gay?”
I burst out laughing. “Maybe. If he isn’t falling all over himself to get a gorgeous girl like you into bed, I can’t think of any other explanation.”
Rosanna and Marco have been dating for years now, and their sex life has been a point of dissatisfaction from the beginning. Marco says he wants to ‘wait until they’re married’. But so far, he hasn’t proposed. Their families are close and old-school Italian. Marco also works for Rosanna’s dad. The drama it would cause if they broke up is more than Ro feels she can bear.
“Maybe some retail therapy will make me feel better?” Ro sighs, her big brown eyes pleading.
Yes, I think a new pair of wedge sandals might be exactly what I need to take my mind off my nerves, and off Nicholas the Tardy and his big broad shoulders. And those lips.
For the next few days, I’m busy putting the final touches on my last design project and trying to squeeze in some time to work on my latest painting.
By the end of the week, I’ve finished the painting and am working on rough ideas for the next. I’ve had some success getting my paintings into smaller galleries based on my dad’s reputation, but this one—if I can convince Sebastian to hold it—will be my first solo show. With any luck it will help me make a name for myself. I want people to want my work for itself, not because of who my dad is. I love my decorating business, but if I could make a living out of painting, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
I’ve pretty much convinced myself the CPM project will go to someone else when Harry’s assistant, Gillian, calls late on Friday afternoon.
