I pour two generous glasses and carry them back to the living area.
Brooke’s perched on a chair like a queen holding court.
She lifts the jersey off the coffee table with her thumb and forefinger.“What the hell is this?”
I pass her a glass of wine and take a long gulp of mine.“Probably what it looks like.”
My ass hits the couch, sending the lighter bouncing.My friend’s eyes widen as she spots it.
“Were you going to burn this place down?!”she demands.
“I’m not crazy.I just wanted to be free.”
“Smoking yourself out is not the answer.”She shakes her head.“Whatever happened with you and Clay, you can’t hide out here.”
“Brooke, this is my life.”I gesture around the apartment.
My friend stares me down.“You’re too big for this.”
“Square footage is less expensive than New York?—”
“I mean your spirit, Nova.You were made for bigger things.”She tosses the jersey at me, and I catch it, staring at the singed edge.
I think of the message that came in not long before she arrived.
“Since you mention it…” I set my wine down and reach for my phone, clicking into my email.
Brooke’s eyes widen in glee as I pass it to her.“Oh my God.This is huge.”She lets out a screech.“You have to say yes.”
“There’s no way.Why would Harlan make this offer?”
“I bet Harlan knows nothing about this.Rumor is he and James barely talk unless James is throwing his weight around.”
This is making less sense by the second.
“He’s crazy loaded, a 'no expenses spared' kind of guy,” she goes on.“He made his money in finance and owns two jets and eight houses.If he’s inviting you to do this, it isn’t going to be any old installation.You have to say yes.”
The mystery has me intrigued, I’ll give her that.
“What if I don’t want to go back?”I stare at the jersey, the half of Clay’s name visible on the back.
“What if your future is waiting for you?”she counters.
“I already have a job.”
“Yeah, because serving overpriced cappuccinos is your calling.”She rolls her eyes, gesturing to the walls.“It’s obvious you’re not into art anymore.”
My art is up all over the place.Every night, I’ve been drawing.It’s compulsive.I can’t stop.
I drain my glass and ball up the jersey in my fist, walking to the sink.I swear I feel his number burn itself into my skin as I set my glass down on the counter.
The email said the installation is at the venue.
Whatever LA deal Clay was trying to make hasn’t gone through.If I take this job, there will be no avoiding him.
When I glance back, Brooke’s typing on my phone.
“What are you doing?”I lunge for her.
