After a particularly intense discussion with a man who claimed one of her abstract pieces “captured the essence of his third divorce,” Sloane found herself back by Dani’s side.
“Well?” Dani asked, her sharp eyes scanning Sloane’s face. “Feeling better yet?”
“I always feel better when people find themselves inside my art,” Sloane said, her grin playful but tired.
Dani studied her for a moment, then leaned in slightly. “You’ve been killing it tonight, but don’t think I haven’t noticed that door glance you’ve perfected. If she doesn’t show, it’s not the end of the world.”
Sloane sighed, running a hand through her curls. “I know. But it’d be nice, you know? To see her here, out of her element.”
Dani softened, her usual sarcasm fading. “I get it. Just don’t let this one freeze you out if she’s not ready for the heat.”
“Since when did you get so poetic?” Sloane teased, bumping Dani’s shoulder.
“Since I realized you’re a sucker for impossible women,” Dani shot back, smirking.
Sloane laughed, the sound ringing through the gallery. “Maybe.”
Dani shook her head. “Good luck, Bennett.”
Sloane nodded, her gaze once again drifting to the door.Good luck,she thought, her chest tightening with anticipation.And maybe a little magic.
The noise of the gallery was a tapestry of sound: laughter weaving through the murmur of conversation, the occasional clink of a wine glass, and the soft strains of jazz filling the spaces in between. But when Catherine Harrington stepped through the doors, a subtle ripple passed through the room.
She stood at the entrance, the cool winter air following her like an invisible shadow. Dressed in a sleek tailored coat that flared slightly at the hem and impossibly sharp heels, she was an anomaly in the vibrant crowd. Where others blended in with eclectic colors and bohemian ease, Catherine stood apart—polished, composed, and entirely out of place.
Sloane froze mid-sentence, the words evaporating from her tongue. There she was, sharp and untouchable, standing amidst the swirl of energy like a glacier in a wildfire. For a moment, all Sloane could do was stare, her heart skipping as a flicker of triumph lit her expression.
“She came,” Sloane murmured to herself, her voice barely audible over the room’s low murmur.
The collectors followed her gaze, their curiosity piqued, but Sloane barely noticed. She excused herself with a quick smile and a lighthearted quip, something about needing to rescue a guest from being overwhelmed by her brilliance, and started across the room.
Her movements were unhurried, her stride confident, but inside, her pulse raced.
Of course, she came,Sloane thought, her grin tugging wider.And now, let’s see if I can crack that armor of hers.
“Well, well,” Sloane said, stepping into Catherine’s line of sight as a waiter handed her a glass of white wine. “Look who decided to prove me wrong.”
Catherine turned, taking a casual sip of the wine, her cool expression betraying no surprise. “I wasn’t aware this was a competition.”
“With you?” A mischievous grin tugged at Sloane’s lips. “Everything is.”
Sloane was aware that Catherine couldn’t be more different than her. And she couldn’t take her eyes off her. Catherine, poised and composed, moved with careful precision; every gesture and measured step caught Sloane’s attention. Sloane found her eyes running over the lovely lines of Catherine’s body in that expensive well cut coat.
“What do you think of the place?” Sloane asked, her tone playful, though there was an edge of genuine curiosity beneath it.
Catherine’s gaze swept over the room before returning to Sloane. “It’s…loud.”
Her blue eyes were beautiful. And perhaps sad, Sloane thought to herself.
Sloane chuckled. “That’s one way to put it.”
She tilted her head, studying Catherine with unabashed interest. “But you came. I’ll admit, I didn’t think you would. Feeling out of your element yet?”
Catherine’s lips twitched, the smallest hint of a smile threatening to break through. “A little, but I see why you like it.”
“I like a lot of things you wouldn’t expect,” Sloane teased.
As the banter unfolded, Sloane couldn’t help but feel the thrill of the moment. Catherine’s words were guarded and her tone clipped, but there was something else there.
