When does he even have time to work out? We both have the same, sedentary job that takes up the entire day, leaving no time for things like going to the gym.
“I was sitting here first,” I say. “So I think it would be hard formeto stalkyou.”
“What better way to throw someone off the scent than by getting to places before your prey? We all know you’re smart.” He smirks at me.
A compliment from a rival? No. Must not be distracted by him and his appealing smirk. “How would I even do that? Have psychic powers?”
“Or call my assistant and find out where I am at any given moment. That’s how much you need to be near me.”
I make gagging motions. “As if.”
“‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks.’”
“The twat doth dream too much, methinks.” I’m fired up by the exchange and really getting into it, to the exclusion of everything around me.
“Um, hello,” says a woman from the other side of Gavin.
I lean over to find the woman from lunch earlier. Apparently, I’m not the only one he’s seeing twice in one day.
“I’m Stella.” The strawberry-blonde goddess extends her hand. She looks like the literal goddess from Sandro Botticelli’sThe Birth of Venus.I’m shocked she’s not rising out of a shell, surrounded by a crowd of adoring wind god attendants.
And that is not jealously talking. Even though she looks thinner than Botticelli’s Venus, and maybe with better skin.
“Hi. I’m Priya.” I take her hand.
“Sonia.” My cousin also shakes Stella’s hand.
“They’re from the competition, Loot.” Gavin explains to Stella. Then to us, he says, “Stella’s my latest contemporary artist. She agreed to sell exclusively with Carlyle’s.” His tone suggests that’s not all they’re doing together.
“Oh, Stella Martin? That Stella?” I look at her with renewed interest. She makes fascinating art about gender inequity by overlaying scenes from the past and the present.
“Yes, that’s me.” She holds her hand up adorably.
“I love your work! Every piece at your last show made me relate so hard with dating in New York.”
“I’m glad it resonated.”
“And she’s exclusive with Carlyle’s now,” Gavin adds again.
“So you’ve said.” That’s a good get for them. Stella’s work is just going to keep getting more and more popular. I wonderhowcommitted she is to them...
The show starts, cutting off any further conversation. Despite me not wanting it to, my body is ridiculously aware of Gavin next to me. How his arm brushes mine when he shifts, how often he leans over to whisper into Stella’s ear.
I don’t remember a time I wasn’t aware of him whenever we were in the same room together. It started out as intense irritation over being children of rival businesses, but at some point, around puberty, I noticed how good-looking he was. Which irritated me even more.
And then as adults, he had the nerve to be just as good as me at auctioneering, only he did it with an easy charm instead of my dogged stubbornness. Which irritated me the most.
Halfway through the show, Stella excuses herself to go to the bathroom, and my bladder acts up in solidarity, pushing me out of my seat to follow her.
“Oh shit, my dress is sagging at the straps,” Stella says, looking at herself in the mirror after washing her hands.
“Oh, I’ve got a safety pin.” I rummage through my purse, pushing aside my emergency supplies: tampon, ibuprofen, pen and, eureka! Safety pin.
“Here you go.” I extend it to her with a smile.
“You’re a lifesaver.” Stella starts trying to reach her back strap, struggling with the task. “Actually, could I ask for some more help?”
“Of course.” I take back the pin and stand behind the woman, gathering her strap and the back of her dress. “I’m obsessed with being prepared so it physically pains me to trim down to a clutch, but my cousin told me my Mary Poppins bag doesn’t match this outfit. But if Ihadbrought my purse, I could have given you thread and needles to fix the dress.”
