That evening we’re all a little bit subdued at dinner, even though the food is perfection. Everyone else is probably a little tired from all the time in the sun.
I’m subdued because of that, sure, and because this is the second to last dinner I’m going to have at the house. And although it’s a nice house, that won’t be what I miss the most.
It’s the second to last dinner I have with Gavin, in the little bubble we’ve made out here on the shores of Long Island.
“I’ve read your proposals.” Harrison breaks the silence as we all start on our main course.
“You have?” I look up from my chicken at Gavin, stomach dropping as I wait for the response.
Harrison nods and takes a sip of his wine. “They’re both very good.”
“Have you made a decision on them?” Gavin asks.
My heart rate increases and I want to fly over the table and cover Harrison’s mouth with my hands, anything to stop the words coming out of his mouth. If Harrison has decided, then there’s no reason to stay. It’ll be back to the city.
“No.”
My entire body sags in relief. One more day. Two more nights. I’ve got a little more time before I have to stop this with Gavin.
“You’re both very talented. I’ll be taking my allotted last day before I make a decision.”
“Take your time,” I say with feeling. Take another month, please. Or a year. Maybe ten. Whatever.
“Either way, you can’t go wrong with either of us,” Gavin says.
I send him a small smile. I think this is his way of flirting with me, complimenting me in front of a potential client. It means a lot more than any other flirting I’ve gotten in the past.
I was worried that sleeping with Gavin and competing with him would turn out to be awkward at best and wildly damaging professionally at worst, decreasing my standing as an auctioneer. But it hasn’t been either of those things so far.
Of course, we haven’t gotten to the real test though: how the loser handles it when Harrison chooses only one of us.
I’ve lost to Gavin in the past, and he’s lost to me. But we weren’t involved then, and my ability to do non-Indian art shows wasn’t on the line. I try to imagine how I’d feel losing to him this time, but my mind doesn’t make the trip into the hypothetical with me.
Which makes me think it’s because I won’t be able to handle it. Not winning is always hard for me, and my brain especially doesn’t think I’ll be able to deal with it in this scenario.
Then the real question is, should I continue something I know will cause me pain? It’s a little too late to be considering the question, since we’ve left “just colleagues” behind either way. But maybe if I get out now, the pain will be less?
Or maybe just till the end of this trip. I’m already involved; I might as well enjoy it for a few more days.
“But of course, there is one less right option.” I wink at Gavin and smile at Harrison. He’ll just have to deal with my own version of flirting back, which is mostly threats to beat him professionally.
After dinner, Harrison takes everyone who wants to smoke to the smoking room again. I decline the invitation and feel a thrill shoot through me when Gavin refuses as well, sending me a hot look instead.
He follows me up the stairs, and without talking about it, follows me to my room. I open the door and go in, expecting him to keep following behind me.
When I turn around and see him still standing in the hallway, I tip my head and give him a questioning look.
“I didn’t want to assume...” He looks at me expectantly.
“I mean, I guess I should rest up for whatever Harrison has planned for us. It’ll probably be peacock wrangling, and I’ll need my strength.”
“Those peacocks can be pretty feisty. I get it.” He doesn’t come any farther, committed to this consent business.
But if he wants to come in, he can ask. It’ll do him good to have to ask for what he wants. To work for what he wants. For once.
“I can show you my best peacock-wrangling moves, if you want,” he offers, resting his shoulder on his door when he realizes I won’t be giving in all that easily.
I grab him by the shirt and pull him in to my room with a roll of my eyes. It’s as close to an ask as I’m getting. “You can come if you promise not to tell me anything about peacock wrangling.”
