“Thank you,” I choked out, tears stinging.
He rubbed my back in that soothing way of his, and said, “I think I know what you need.”
“What’s that?”
“Champagne.”
“God, yes.”
“You stay here and I’ll go see what I can rustle up.”
“Okay.”
He left me standing by the painting, my fingers twisting nervously as the first guests trickled in.
“Emily!”
I turned to see Mia and Hannah weaving through the crowd. Relief flooded through me at the sight of familiar faces. Behind them, the rest of our chaotic friend group followed like a small army of support.
“You made it,” I said as Mia pulled me into a squeeze.
“We wouldn’t miss this.” She stepped back, beaming. “Now show me which one is yours so I can brag about knowing you.”
I gestured to the painting, and Poppy whistled low. “Damn, Em. That’s seriously impressive.”
“You think?”
“I mean, I know shit all about art, but it’s just… It makes me want to go swimming in that river.”
“Same,” Annie agreed.
The tightness in my chest eased, knowing I had the best friends in the whole world. And Cam, walking toward me with a very necessary glass of champagne. I took it, happy to see that my hands were slightly less shaky.
“Guys, this is Cam.”
I introduced him to everyone one by one and despite being outnumbered, he shook hands with easy charm.
Hannah was practically vibrating, her eyes darting between Cam and me with barely contained glee. I caught her gaze and gave her a pleading look.
Don’t you dare.
She pressed her lips together and managed a polite smile. “Great to officially meet you, Cam.”
“You too,” he replied, oblivious to the bullet he had just dodged.
Cassidy, realizing they were all standing in front of my canvas, blocking the view, said, “How about we go check out some other pieces.” She squeezed my hand. “We’ll be back in a bit.”
“Okay.”
After they’d gone, I stood near my painting, trying to look casual while simultaneously wanting to hide in the bathroom. I smiled politely as people wandered past, some pausing to study my work, others moving on quickly. I couldn’t read their expressions. Was that a good thoughtful face, or a confused one? Did that woman like it or was she just being polite?
“Stop psychoanalyzing everyone,” Cam murmured.
“I’m not.”
“You are. I can tell because you’re gnawing at your bottom lip.”
I stopped immediately. “I’m just observing.”
