Nick: I should be finished with dinner around 11. If you decide you want company, let me know where you are and I can join you. Or pick you up.
Me: That’s fine. You have a good time at the dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow
Nick: OK—well the offer’s there. You know where I live if you want to come over after you’re finished celebrating.
Me: Sure
It’s only afterwards I realise I forgot to thank him for the flowers. Never mind, I’ll thank him tomorrow. Before I drop a bomb on his life.
People start arriving at the opening right on time, and within half an hour, the space is packed with people and chatter. Rosanna keeps me supplied with sparkling water and whatever hors d’oeuvres she thinks won’t jump right out again. Despite my pounding head, I think I manage to be somewhat sparkling and a little bit engaging. At least nobody seems to notice the bags under my eyes, except for Sebastian, who tsks and whisks me off to his office where he dabs something that smells vaguely medicinal on the puffiness. He can see the question in my eyes. “You don’t want to know, darling. Now go. Be charming. I’m going to count all the lovely numbers with dollar signs in front.”
“You’ve sold something?”
“Lots of somethings, darling. I’m kicking myself for not going higher on the pricing. I must get back—that woman from Mona is circling, and there’s someone interested in a commission I need to lock in. So shoo, darling. We’ll talk later.”
By the time the last of the guest has left, there are only a couple of paintings left unsold, and even those have people interested in them. I have complete faith Sebastian will get them over the line.
“What did I tell you?” Rosanna clinks her champagne against my glass of sparkling water. “You are on your way, Lu.”
I look around, taking in all the red dots next to the paintings. “I can’t believe all the fantastic things people were saying about my work. Only a couple mentioned my father, and even then, they were saying I’m as talented as him.”
“Well, of course you are, darling.” Sebastian’s eyes pop up from his iPad where he has been adding up sales, and he turns the screen to us in triumph. “And here’s the proof.”
I almost spit my water at him when I see the amount of money I made tonight. “Halfway through the night, I upped the prices.” He giggles at my expression of horror. “We are not a charity, darling.” My dad would love Sebastian.
As we climb into a taxi, my phone starts to ring—Nick. I hesitate, shooting a pleading look at Ro. “Don’t answer if you’re not ready to talk to him. You told him you were going out. Maybe the music was so loud you didn’t hear your phone.”
Feeling guilty, I let it go to voicemail.
We settle onto Ro’s big bed, me with another ginger tea, Ro with a glass of her dad’s homemade Limoncello.
“Well, at least this explains why wine has tasted weird for the past couple of weeks,” I say, sipping the hot tea as I send my dad a long text about how the opening went, and telling him I’ll call in the morning.
“I guess it does. Do you want to talk about it?” Rosanna tucks the covers around us.
“No. I don’t think so. Not tonight. You were right. Time enough to worry about it tomorrow.”
“Absolutely. Get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll work out a plan in the morning.” She picks up my phone, puts it on silent and turns out the light. We sip in silence for a while before she whispers, “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Ro. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” I squeeze her hand in the dark.
“Lucky you’ll never have to find out.”
And with that, I drop into the best night’s sleep I’ve had in weeks.
The next morning, after another round with the toilet bowl, I find Rosanna checking out the paper on-line.
“Is there a story about the exhibition?” I ask. But something about her body language alerts me to a problem. I look over her shoulder, and right above the article on my exhibition is a story announcing Nick’s engagement and plans to stand for a seat in parliament.
“What the actual fuck?” Ro whispers.
I can’t even formulate words. Because along with the article is a picture of Nick with the very beautiful, very poised woman I saw with him in the hallway at CPM only weeks ago. And her name is Eleanor.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Nick
Lulu’stextshaveunsettledme. It’s not that she’s going out after the opening. It’s that she hasn’t asked me to go too. Or maybe it’s because she’s going to stay at Rosanna’s and not come home to tell me all about the opening. I know she and Rosanna are close. They talk every day, and catch up for coffee or lunch a couple of times a week. But with things as unresolved as they are between us, it feels like she’s pulling further away from me.
