He didnotjust say that to me. “Look, I work hard all week and I deserve my Saturdays to sleep in. So if you’ll please quiet your animal down for the time being I would appreciate it. If it’s not your dog, it’s you hammering or drilling away at something in the house. I wish you’d just finish renovating this property already. Also, while you’re at it, have that oak tree looked at.” I point to the eye sore between our properties. “I’ve told you a thousand times that it’s leaning heavily into my yard. One of these days it’s going to fall over right onto my house.”
“Trees don’t just randomly fall over.”
I’ve had about enough of this guy. “Jimmy—just—” I stomp my foot on the ground, turn around, and hustle off. I can’t stand to look at him anymore.
“Have a nice day!” Jimmy calls out from behind me.
It will be a nice day when he finally finishes renovating that house and moves the hell out of the neighborhood.
2
I rubmy thumb and ring finger between my eyes. How I’m managing to not drop my head onto my desk and fall asleep is beyond me. Jimmy’s damn dog barked every time I tried to relax over the weekend. It’s like the little shit knew.Oh, Reese is running on the treadmill? I’ll take a nap. Now she’s drinking tea on her patio? I’ll bark for fifteen minutes straight. She put her earbuds in? Okay, time for me to take another nap. Now she wants to go to bed? That’s right—barking time!
If I don’t manage eight hours of sleep, I’m miserable at work. I’m also not as approachable as I’d like to be. I’m cranky and focusing is a chore. That doesn’t matter today, though. It will take all my strength and about two pots of coffee, but I’ll make it work.
Alvin Hamilton is a highly sought-after up-and-coming artist. He’s not just a painter. He paints dreams and hope with his brush. You can stand in front of one of his paintings and have to remember how to breathe. His work sucks you in like an undertow. The word in the industry is he’s very particular about where he shows his work. Each piece he sells brings in a lot of money, and Poppy Haus is in need of some.
After eight years at Poppy Haus, I’ve worked myself up from gallery assistant to the gallery manager. Ultimately, I’d love to be the director, but that job belongs to Janet Berger, and she’s made it very clear she intends to be here forever. My job is to secure the artists for special exhibits, and Alvin Hamilton is on my list.
My desk is a mess, which drives me crazy, but there’s too much to do. I can’t stop and take the time to organize it. Every item on here is needed. I’ve researched the other venues Mr. Hamilton allowed to show and sell his work. I attended other shows at local galleries to see how they compare to Poppy Haus. Most recently I’ve studied the social media accounts of other galleries. I think I have a solid idea of what will attract Mr. Hamilton to our gallery, and I’m scheduled to meet with him in a few weeks to discuss it.
Janet has been breathing down my neck about the whole thing. I can’t remember a time shehasn’tbeen nagging me about something. I swear she’s trying to find any reason she can to get rid of me. She’s made it pretty clear that if Alvin Hamilton falls through, that may mean the end of my job. I need all the help I can get.
Right now that help is in the form of my fifth cup of coffee. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have a maker right in my office. I pour myself a cup and set it next to me. A deep breath, a crack of my knuckles, and I’m ready to work.
I’m creating an informational packet for Mr. Hamilton outlining all the ways I plan on marketing his exhibit, should he choose to allow us to feature him. Spread over my desk are pages upon pages of handwritten notes I took in my research that I plan on working into the packet. It’s finally time to open up my word processing program and start my creation.
My phone rings as I start to gather my papers, startling me. My hand flies up so fast to answer it, I knock it into my cup, coffee spilling over the sides, onto my hand. I jump as I let out a small cry of pain, hitting the cup again, knocking it over completely. The liquid covers my desk, the papers ruined.
I don’t have time for this.
Frantically, I yank tissue out of the tissue box and pat down everything on my desk. My documents are ruined. My pen marks smear together, my notes impossible to read. I spent hours upon hours making notes, but haven’t entered them into the computer yet. This is a disaster.
“Knock, knock.” My boss, Janet, comes into my office. “Is everything okay? I heard a ruckus.”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I spilled my coffee, that’s all.” And missed whatever phone call I had. Hopefully whoever it was will call back.
Janet picks up the small metal trash can and holds it out so I can toss my coffee-soaked tissues in. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Tough morning?”
“Tough weekend. My neighbor’s dog kept me up every night.”
She smiles. “Oh, Reese. That’s nothing. Just wait until you have a baby waking you up every single hour. You’ll learn how to adjust then.”
Janet never misses an opportunity to bring up her self-appointed super mom title. I’ve seen pictures of her children—a dark-haired three-year-old boy and a wide-eyed one-year-old girl. Sure, I realize she’s a proud mom—and she should be—but comments like this drive me crazy sometimes. No, I don’t have kids. Will I ever have children? Maybe if I ever meet a decent man I’m willing to go the distance with. But I don’t need her comparing the babies and the dog situation. Completely different, and totally irrelevant.
“How can I help you, Janet?” My desk smells like the Post Alley Blend of Seattle’s Best. My paperwork is a mess. I have to move on with my day if I have any chance of salvaging any of this.
“Alvin Hamilton.”
The name stops me. He’s been my life over the past few weeks.
“His assistant called and moved the meeting to next Tuesday.”
My heart drops into my stomach. “Tomorrow?”
“No.NextTuesday. Tomorrow isthisTuesday. I know you’ve been working your behind off on this presentation and I expect you’ll do a fabulous job. We all know how critical it is that the gallery secures this exhibit.” She narrows her dark eyes and purses her lips.
