Page 28 of For the Love of Art

“Of course I knew. I can also tell he’s attracted to you.”

I sighed. “I can’t be one of the many. That’s not who I am.”

“I know.”

“I want to get a job based on my merit. Not because I can be another notch on someone’s bedpost.”

“You are getting this job based on merit.” She put her hands on my shoulders and squeezed. “If he wanted to fuck you, he would’ve put more effort in. If anything, he looks like he’s holding back, likely because he doesn’t want to mess up his chances of getting you as his curator.”

“I’ll screw it up. I screw up everything. Look at my marriage.”

“Isla.” Lianne shook me. “You’re comparing apples to oranges. And besides. Wouldn’t you be happier knowing you failed trying rather than failing by default?”

The bell chimed, signaling a customer. Lianne squeezed my shoulders again.

“Think about it. Okay?”

I nodded.

Lianne walked around the counter and greeted the customer.

I pressed my hands into the counter, looked down at my half-finished sample platter, and then back up at the shop that had given me space from Don. These walls had been an escape- a safe place from my marital problems. They had been a place of rehabilitation, and now I was scared to leave because I could fall flat on my face. I only had a few short hours to decide whether to stay comfortable or venture into the unknown.

I tilted my head.

They’re bigger.I decided.

The doors to the gallery towered over me. The lights inside were dim, and I couldn’t see anyone moving within. I looked down at my watch- 5:46. I had been standing at the doors for over 15 minutes.

Ridiculous. Just go in.

My feet didn’t move.

Left.I forced my foot up and took a step forward. I instantly stepped back, bumping into someone in the process. I mumbled a sorry before turning back to my new nemesis.

I looked at my watch again. 5:49. You’re running out of time, Isla.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I puffed my chest and found just enough confidence to walk to the door and pull it open.

Inside wasn’t just dim- it was dark. I widened my eyes, trying to adjust them as I walked further into the gallery. Suddenly, I hit a wall. No, not a wall because whatever I hit smelt really good. I screamed, realizing it was a person I’d bumped into, and two hands reached out, grabbing my arms.

“Isla, it’s me!” Nathan’s familiar voice moved through the darkness.

“Oh.” Relief washed over me quickly, followed by an internal cringing over my reaction. “Oh!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I heard footsteps and came out to investigate. Let me lock the door.”

His likely more-expensive-than-my-rent shoes slapped the marble floor. I peered over my shoulder. The light from outside allowed me to see his strong square jaw with its light dusting of stubble. I followed his cheekbones to his not-at-all receding and very neatly styled despite having worked a full day, hair.

The lock clicked, and I averted my eyes.

He breezed past me, saying, “Follow me to my office.”

“No.”

I shocked myself with the force and assertiveness of my response. It also seemed to affect Nathan, who had stopped and turned to face me.

“No? I thought you were here for–”