“I signed the contract, agreeing to the press appearances without telling him, Maddie. I pretended Norman was right, that Logan and I were together because I didn’t want to lose the job.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No, but it’s close! Logan was under pressure with his coach and his team, he thought he had to be Mr. Cool to get good recommendations to agents and teams. So yeah, what he did was crappy, but I don’t know. I understand a little of why he did it.”
Maddie considered for a moment. “So you told Logan?”
I nodded. “He said it was a perfect setup. I guess he has some PR clause in his contract because of all the shenanigans in the spring.”
“Oh, yeah, those Blizzard players?”
I nodded again. “We think his mom is trying to keep his image pure or something. Make it seem like he’s got a hometown girlfriend, and Norman is doing some exhibit with hockey. I don’t understand why it’s so important to have Blizzard players at the events, but he’s making it a huge priority. I told Logan I wasn’t going to do photos. I didn’t want to make this a big thing. I thought I could just do my time and pretend I was with him until the press walk through, then we could break up and I could move on with a position at the gallery, but I don’t think Norman Marcus cares about me. He wants Logan and he thought I was the way to get him?—”
“Uh, I think he cares.” Maddie pulled the paper toward her, searched for something in the text, and when she found it, held it out for me to read.
The upcoming Marcus Arts Foundation Gallery took another step toward reality this week as founder Norman Marcus announced an ambitious bid for a provincial matching grant from Alberta’s Arts and Culture Fund. To strengthen the application, Marcus has begun a formal partnership with Douglas University, citing the need for “emergent voices” and “meaningful student involvement” in the province’s cultural future.
“The government wants proof that the next generation is engaged,” Marcus said during a brief walk-through of the converted warehouse space. “That’s why artists like Douglas student Crystal MacMillan are essential. She represents exactly what Alberta’s art community can become—fresh, earnest, and rooted in the city’s future.”
After last year’s funding cuts, the province has emphasized “student-centred initiatives” in awarding grants—something Marcus appears more than ready to capitalize on…
The newspaper crinkled in my hand. What the hell? Norman was using me as proof that he was “student-centric” to get a provincial grant?I was essential?
I dropped the paper to the table. “Do you know what I did on my first day?” I turned to Maddie, my chest on fire. “I broke down boxes. I’ve had absolutely zero to do with anything related to art or ‘the province’s cultural future.’”
Maddie took the paper from me before I crumpled it up and tossed it on the floor. “So. Norman Marcus is an asshat.”
It seemed that way. I guess this is what they meant by “don’t meet your heroes?” But the fact remained that he was also a very powerful and well-connected asshat.
“And what about the picture?” Maddie asked.
I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. “We were having a box fight.”
“What?”
“A box fight. Like throwing boxes at each other. It sounds idiotic, but he scared the hell out of me and I fell, and . . . I have no idea how they got this photo, but I wasn’t making out with him. I wasn’t anything with him. We’re just—” I slumped over my knees. “I don’t know what we are. Allies?”
Maddie’s expression was more thoughtful than disgruntled, but there was still judgment there. I deserved it.
“I don’t know why you didn’t say something.” Maddie swept a loose curl from her cheek.
“Really?” I gave her a look, and she cracked a smile.
“Okay, I get why you didn’t tell Shar, but why didn’t you tell me?”
That was a fair question. “I don’t know.” And that was a lie. But how could I tell her that since she’d gotten together with Chase, our relationship hadn’t felt the same? Without sounding like a petty, jealous friend? Which I definitely was at least some of the time.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to elaborate. Saved by the phone ringing.
I jumped up from the couch. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” I slid into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, Crystal?” Rob’s voice. He sounded frantic.
My heart jumped into my throat. “What’s wrong?”
“Who is it?” Maddie appeared next to me.
I gripped the phone tighter. “Rob?—?”
