But look at me. I was doing this on my own!
I texted Flo to tell her that I’d made it, and she replied, saying she and Jacob would keep an eye out for me. Although if I wasbeing honest, I didn’t want to bother them. Jacob had been gunning for this role for a while, and tonight was the night he finally got to reap the benefits. If I bumped into them, I’d chat, but the last thing I wanted to do was become their third wheel for the night.
And in case the world hadn’t clocked on yet, I was on my own! And I was fine!
Marcus - 0
Cora - 1
I’d turned my phone off after texting Flo, so if I got a message from my secret admirer, then I’d be none the wiser until I was back in the safety of the townhouse with my friends.
With a sense of power fuelling my walk, I made my way over to the snack bar, and for the sliver of nerves that was trying to penetrate the walls I’d put up, I was positive that a large tub of popcorn would combat that. I wandered over to the stand, my mouth opening and the words on the tips of my tongue as I—
“Popcorn and a large soda if it’s not too much trouble.”
My mouth gaped at the audacity of the man who had stepped in front of me, ignoring my existence and turning his walking cane into a wall between me and my snacks.
I stepped to the side and tapped my foot in a way that Elle Woods would be proud of, right as I cleared my throat. “I know the concept of queues is lost on you Americans, but anyone could clearly see that I was—
The man turned around, and instantly, I was silenced withrecognition.
I swallowed as his eyes tilted down to find me. “Patrick St. James.”
His piercing blue eyes brightened as his name flew between us, before creasing, deepening the wrinkles that made up his ageing face. “I think if you’re confident enough to critique my etiquette, then just Patrick is fine.” His smile was knowing, free of condesention. “I’m sorry for barging in, Miss….”
I inwardly cringed at theMiss.
“Holland. But seeing as we’re on a first-name basis, just ‘Cora’ is fine.”
His smile turned from knowing to sweet, the kind a grandpa would shine down at his granddaughter, I imagined. “And how does a young thing like you know a fossil like me?”
I shook my head, my hands flailing by my side, then in my hair, then back by my sides. “Your piece,Reversing Patriarchy, is one of my all-time favourite paintings.”
And he was one of my favourite artists.
Patrick St. James was an art legend in this city, who used to converse with Warhol and O’Keeffe. The guy had paint stardust dripping off of every part of him. I'd discovered him in my last year of high school, and by the end of the day I could recite his entire catalogue.
He hummed, like he was genuinely impressed, as he turned to face me. “What are your other favourite pieces?”
I didn’t miss a beat. “The Burial of Atala, Girodet, andIn the Loge, Mary Cassatt.”
The fine grey hairs at the crown of his head bounced as he nodded, that impressed look not budging. “That's quite thepalate for someone your age.” His brows lifted. “I think you can tell a lot from someone based on their favourite works.”
“What do mine say about me?” I asked, my nerves fading as the chatter around us faded into nothing. Popcorn officially forgotten.
Patrick weighed up the words before he spoke, a certain stoic shadow settling over him, one that gleamed like wisdom. “That you understand how pain can be poetic and have more purpose than just to ruin those it inflicts.” I swallowed. “And if I were to dive deeper, because I think we’re all friends here, I’d say that you feel for those caged by expectation.” He narrowed his wrinkled eyes. “Or perhapsyou’rethe one caged by expectation.”
It was as though this man had a magnifying glass to my soul.
Like he knew what my gaping mouth really meant, he dipped his head so we were eye-level. “Close?”
I shuddered before sneaking a breath, shoulders edging up. “A little.”
He seemed chuffed, leaning back a little, thinning out the air. “And I also think it’s clear you’re passionate about our world.”
I practically turned into a bobblehead. “Art is my life.”
“Is that why you’re here?” He asked, looking around the foyer.
