“That looked physically painful.”
Okay, maybe a lot overgrown.
“Yeah, okay. I hope it’s terrible and mine looks even better in contrast and you lose all your clients and the creditors have to take all your art and you’re left staring at empty walls,” I say in a rush.
Gavin laughs. “That’s better.”
I shake my head at him, his bad mood apparently a distant memory. “Are you a masochist, Carlyle?”
He gives me a considering look. “I didn’t think I was. I like easy. Maybe that’s a little bit of a flaw. School, navigating the art market, and auctioneering all come naturally. It’s even easy to give in to Dad, most times. But you...”
“Well? What about me? Don’t stop there.” I throw some more powder at his chest, hoping to get my answer from him. I’m not a patient person. That’s my flaw. Probably not my only one.
“You’re difficult,” he concludes, a smile still on his face from previously laughing at me.
“Oh.” My face falls in disappointment and I pick at my bag of powder. That’s not a compliment.
“But I think you might be worth it.”
“Oh.” The words take my breath like the running previously did. Even though Gavin has been honest about pursuing me, I never thought he’d get this emotionally honest with me. Or that there were any emotions to get honest about.
I have no idea how to respond to that, because I don’t know what I want.
Which is a lie. I suspect I do know what I want, but I don’t know how I can get it without everything else I’ve worked for crashing down.
But he’s been so honest with me; I feel the need to reciprocate. “I don’t know how to do work and a relationship. And I especially don’t know how to do it with you.”
“So you like things easy too then,” he says.
“I do not,” I say hotly, reflexively denying the ludicrous claim. I work more hours than anyone at the damn auction house, and my team brings in more money than any other department. All while Dad tries to take my work away from me. None of that is easy.
“You work hard at the job, I’ll give you that. But adding a relationship into that makes it hard. And, yeah, a relationship with me would be even harder. Hardest probably,” he mutters the last part under his breath, like he doesn’t want to give me any more ammunition, but he wants to be honest. “So you’re running. Even though it would be good.”
I slam my hand down in my lap, hitting the bag and causing a small cloud of powder to drift up. I cough, ruining the gravity of the moment but not letting it distract me from the conversation. “It’s easy to sit here and say we’d be good, but it’s a little different when you’ll have to take me to Sunday night dinner with the Carlyles. Your dad is not my biggest fan.”
“Because you keep beating him. And your dad hates me, because I can beat him too. I get that. But our moms are reasonable women. And it’d be worth it.”
“This is a ridiculous conversation.” I get up and start pacing in front of Gavin.
Gavin might be right; I do think work and a relationship would be too much. When I first started at the auction house, I’d meet guys, but I was so busy they got annoyed and moved on. And I didn’t exactly care that they were going. More like a weak “No, please don’t go,” while not looking up from my phone, answering emails.
And it never really got less busy. In fact, the work always increased. There was always another collection to get, another sale to put on, another record to break. And no one could hold my attention better than the job.
The more time I spent at the job, the fewer people I met, until I was surrounded by art world folks. And I couldn’t date anyone in the industry; everyone was either a client, or competition or they worked for me. Or were related to me.
Awkward.
“Let’s not call it dating then.” Gavin shrugs, back to his no-worries attitude. “Let’s just enjoy hanging out together. And having sex with each other, I hope. And we’ll just see what happens. Handle each challenge as it comes up, while hoping none come up at all.”
He sounds so reasonable. Or maybe I just want him to be right so it’s easier to seduce me with his path of least resistance attitude. To make me believe we can do this, and it won’t affect my professional and family relationships. I want it so much, laughing with Gavin, playing with Gavin, and having really hot sex with Gavin.
I want it almost as much as I’ve wanted to succeed at work. Almost. So why not give it a try?
“I guess I can try that. But if this is another one of your pranks...or so you can throw me off my game—” I make my voice as threatening as it can get “—I’ll disembowel you with the best-preserved medieval torture instruments that I find with the weight of all my antique dealer connections.”
The threat isn’t carrying much weight, since Gavin is already smiling. But it’s easier to fall back into banter with Gavin instead of the vulnerability of the emotional heart-to-heart we just had.
Gavin’s eyebrows go up in incredulity. “I’m not the one who gave me a jammed gun.” He points back to the yard where the plastic toy lies useless.
