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"But they already did."
My fingers stall along the keyboard as my gaze looms up to her. "Huh?"
She blinks rapidly, her sass prevailing without her false lashes. "The doors—I told Angie to open them early." My heart skyrockets into my throat. "It's not an uncommon thing the gallery does, if we notice a big line outside. The West and East wings are still undergoing final touches, but… based on the crowd I saw forty minutes ago, I assume she opened the main gallery by now."
"What?!" I burst to my feet, slamming my laptop shut. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"
"Well, I tried, but the movers and the flowers and…"
Anxiety twists my gut into a pretzel as I hurry past her, each step toward the storage room's main exit pumping blood in my ears, louder and louder, drowning out her words, until…
All that blood simmers on a long sigh.
Oh, thank goodness.
Ambient lighting and soft chatter fill the Main Gallery, despite the impressive crowd milling about the space. Artsy types, adorned in flowy dresses, patterned scarves, and layered jewelry, others adhering to a more edgy style, flaunting leather jackets or ripped jeans, all conversing and gazing up in wonder at paintings I've admired many times before, plucked from the penthouse I now call home.
"It's amazing, Mei," I say, when she comes up next to me. "You did a spectacular job."
Eyes narrowing, she surveys the gallery, noting the caterers weaving through guests, balancing trays of champagne-filled flutes and hors d'oeuvres. "Good, it seems Angie listened, after all." She points to the orchids decorating the front entrance and scattered throughout the showroom.
I gesture toward the center of the gallery, where three moveable dividing walls stand, attached to the coffered ceiling. They're arranged in a zigzag pattern with ample space between, creating more room for paintings and natural paths for visitors to walk through. Mei must've ordered the museum handlers to roll them in while I was working.
"I love how you positioned the partition walls. They're placed perfectly."
"You really think so?"
I nod, watching warmth color Mei's features.
"Thanks." She gives me a side hug, wary of the clunky clipboard still in her hand. "I couldn't have managed without your support today."
Yes, you could've, I nearly say, but instead offer a tender smile, knowing my best friend wouldn't accept such flattery.
For a while, we just stand in the doorway, shoulder-to-shoulder, admiring the scenery. Pride swells within me while I watch more people usher through the front doors, despite the showcase being ten minutes shy from its official start time, and art enthusiasts engage in deep conversation over Hayden's work.
Another minute passes, and an alluring melody drifts above their chatter, growing more prominent…
I listen closely to the rich sound, a harmonious blend of high notes and lower ones sustaining the elegant chords, and I'm about to compliment Mei on her soundtrack choice, until I spot the man in an all-black suit dancing his fingertips across the keys, light and effortless.
I gaze in awe, savoring the classical tune and the profound energy emanating from the grand piano. Onlookers crowd around, gawking in surprise, except for the woman in a shimmering blue dress, already leaned over the piano's lip, resting a chin on her fist and gazing longingly like the song is just for her. And by the looks of their matching corsages, it really might be.
"Wow… where'd you find him? Carnegie Hall?"
Mei follows my stare. "Actually, my friend from another major gallery who referred him to me mentioned he performs there from time to time. Guess he started picking up showcase gigs, too. He played at one she hosted a few weeks ago, but this is his first time here. His name is…" She hums, rolling her lips. "Damien—yes, I believe it's Damien. I hired so many professionals for this, I can't possibly remember all their names. My boss handles payroll, thank God."
I hmph, raising an eyebrow to the dramatic crescendo echoing throughout the showroom, which elicits a round of applause and a cautioning glance from his partner.
"Well, that Damien fellow is doing one hell of a good job."
Fortunately, the East Gallery opened moments ago, drawing the attention of numerous guests and alleviating some of the congestion in the crowded main room. I plan to follow, perhaps when Hayden decides to show up to his own event, but for now, I mosey around the Main Gallery, a glass of champagne in hand, enjoying the music and studying the paintings.
I'm not sure how long it's been since this particular one caught my eye. It's my first time seeing it, probably because it was hidden in a large stack of canvases in the studio at home. Without Mei as my artistic liaison, I stare up at the large canvas, appreciating the bright colors, the delicate brush work, and—
I lose my train of thought, as a familiar voice drifts from the other side of the partition wall.
"...and did you text Sofia to see where she's at? The doors opened fifteen minutes ago."
Lauren.
