Page 48 of The Unfluencer

“Wrong.” I laugh. “By the time I tried to leave, Warner was on the other side, closing me back inside with him⁠—”

“And his thick thighs, all that booty. Just smelling all good,” she editorializes, loving every second of this.

“He did smell good,” I admit. “But yes, all of him.”

Priscilla’s mouth is a full-circle O.

“I didn’t know what to think. The two of us in that tight space, breathing heavy, only inches between us…”

“Whit.” She swoons, just hopeless. “That’s romance-movie stuff.”

“And horror-movie stuff,” I counter. “I guess we’ll learn which one soon enough. But as much as I wanted to relieve him of every last thread of that impeccably tailored Italian suit and lick him from head to toe for a night, I don’t know this man from Adam. And this was my place of business,” I say, even though my body clocked every inch of his smooth, dark skin, broad shoulders, those full, kissable lips. The way his soft fabric draped appetizingly over that hard body built for fun.

“But also, my girl’s only human…”

We both laugh.

“Well, that goes without saying.” I pop my invisible collar. “I curate art for a living, so you know I’ve got a vivid imagination.”

“And used it, hopefully,” Priscilla adds.

“Sis, you know money-clip men are not my thing. But let’s just say he was breathless after I convinced him to call the Artery today about meeting to discuss exhibiting Sherry’s collection…”

Priscilla erupts with excited shrieks, snapping her fingers. “Okay, diva!”

“Yup, so everything was feeling copacetic,” I preface, sadly about to burst her hopeful bubble. “Until he sprinted out that restroom.”

Leaving me all hot and bothered.

“Now, the headlines are headlining,” she concludes.

“And Gertrude and Phyllis are up in arms over me sullying the Graves family name, like they haven’t spent the last five decades tag-teaming its descent. Outlook on my chesticles and vagine? Not good.” I glance at the time in the top-left corner of the screen. “It’s almost three, Clive still hasn’t heard from Warner, and now that Scene and Heard It All vlog is live with the stupid comment I made about him when I thought he was a no-show, so the opinions are flying⁠—”

“And the sparks?”

“Quickly fizzled when he dipped out the gallery,” I say, still chastising myself for thinking we’d shared a moment. “But if you like it, I love it.”

I, in fact, hate everything about it.

Is it a coincidence that the Restroom Rendezvous is doing wonders to keep Echelon Technologies’ new RealSpace Engine update in the headlines? I think not.

“Listen, the way I see it, the universe is in balance,” Priscilla says. Cue the sunshine in three, two, one… “The chemistry was off the charts, and you’ve got an appointment with him, right?”

“Supposedly,” I mutter.

“Okay, so we don’t know if he’ll select the Artery for the private exhibition, but it’s being considered. This could lift up your gallery and ArteryBeat.”

“I just wish the spotlight wasn’t linked to some fabricated scandal.” Or that man.

Priscilla purses her lips. “No one wants their name in the same headline with the words ‘Restroom Rendezvous.’ But…”

“But?”

She deepens her stare. “The press are talking, mentioning the nonprofit, your gallery, linking you to Sherry’s collection. And you get to see him again. Everything’s working out for the best, right?”

I didn’t realize how much I needed reassurance.

“Thank you,” I say.