Page 8 of For the Love of Art

Nathan smiled. “When it comes to being a creative, it helps to have connections.”

I hummed in agreement, shoving the invitation into my purse.

“I’d put your name on the list, but you haven’t given it to me.”

I looked up to see Nathan with his pen poised and a sly grin that almost made my knees collapse.

“I… well… this night is a busy night for me.”

Nathan’s smile didn’t falter, and knots began to form in my stomach.

“I’ll put you down anyway, in case your night clears up.” Nathan’s eyes glimmered as he took a step toward me. “At least, I would if I had your name.”

“Isla. Isla–” I paused, hating that I had to say my last name. “Watts.”

His pen scribbled across the page, his forehead creased with concentration.

“Well, Isla, Isla Watts. I have you down plus one.” Nathan smiled again, causing my insides to twist tighter. “Enjoy the art.”

I swear his teeth glistened in the fluorescent lighting before he walked away.

A normal person would’ve said goodbye or thank you. I stared. I kept my eyes trained on his retreating figure while my heart pounded so hard against my chest that I wondered if I needed to see a doctor. When Nathan finally disappeared from view, my body relaxed.

As my senses calmed, I realized I felt someone looking at me. I slowly scanned the room. Dori’s line of sight was laser focused on her computer. I continued my slow look and then landed on Maggie. She coolly leaned against a large column, openly staring at me. When she realized I’d caught her, she looked down at some papers in her hands.

What the hell?

I looked around and saw a sign for the washrooms. I quickly made a beeline for them, the swinging door hitting the wall with a loud bang from the force of my push. Despite the bright lights, the royal purple wallpaper and dark wood stalls made the room devoid of light.

I pressed my hands into the porcelain sink, consciously dictating my breath.

“You didn’t come here for art, did you?” an icy voice asked.

I looked into the mirror to see Maggie with her arms crossed, eyebrows brought together, and her forehead wrinkled.

“This seems wildly unprofessional,” I said into the mirror.

She scoffed. “You going to tell Nathan or something? He likely views you as any other woman who comes in off the street pathetically, hoping for him to sniff in your direction. You make a mockery of us all!”

It dawned on me that Maggie either was one of the many or wanted to be. I felt softer toward her.

“Look, you’re what?” I studied her features for a split second. “Twenty-five? I’ve been in this world, and I’m not trying to hurt you when I say he leaves and doesn’t have a second thought about you.”

I wasn’t lying. I had been in this world. I left a long time ago, but I watched a few women like her pine after owners and artists only to be met with heartbreak.

Her eyes narrowed as I slid by her and opened the door.

Over my shoulder, I said, “For the record, I did come here to look at art.”

I walked out, robbing her of the chance to say anything further, not even looking over my shoulder when Dori told me to have a nice day.

I was so fast out the door I didn’t notice the man with a coffee in his business suit and walked right into him, spilling his coffee and the contents of my purse.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

The man’s shirt was now soaked in coffee.

“Watch where you’re going, bitch!”