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“I will. Goodbye.” I end the call knowing the twig I’ve given him is enough to buy some time for Nick and Beck to figure out what’s really going on. Assuming, of course, that my enemy is my uncle.
It might not be him. In which case, I’ve bought no time at all.
Chapter Thirty-One
Faith
Two weeks later…
“Good luck tonight and tomorrow.”
I look up from my desk to find Sara in the doorway. “Thank you. I was nervous two weeks ago when I shipped my work, and then I just put it aside. I didn’t think about it. But right now, my stomach is at my feet, and I think it’s pretty clear that I saved all the nerves for now.”
“Nerves are good,” she says, walking to my visitor’s chair and perching on the arm. “They mean you’re experiencing life, not just going through the motions. And I went through the motions for too many years myself. I wish I could be there for you. Chris and I both wish we could be there, but it’s just too close to the grand opening here. When are you leaving?”
“Now, actually,” I say, standing up, still in jeans, boots, and a royal blue silk blouse, which I will trade in for something fancier tonight in L.A for the Forum launch party. “Nick had a meeting this morning or I wouldn’t have come in at all. He’s picking me up in a few, and we’re actually looking at a house on the way to the airport that the realtor swears we have to see and could lose if we wait.”
“Oh really? Where is it?”
“It’s a penthouse in some new high-rise. I wasn’t keen on being in a building, but the views are supposed to be stunning. Nick really wants to look.”
“We’re in a high-rise, and it’s pretty lovely to have the service and security as well as the views. We love it.” She motions to the wall behind me. “It’s beautiful, Faith.”
“Thank you. I’m so happy you like it.”
“Our opening day guests are going to love it, too. We’re going to allow only those who attend opening night to visit your room and Chris’s. And we’ll display a collection of your art on the walls here as well as in your display area. If you think you can spare a few more pieces? I know it’s short notice, but—”
“Yes. Yes, of course I can. Thank you. So much, Sara.”
“Thank you, Faith, for all you’ve done. And I know it’s a pipe dream, but I’d love for you to take the job I offered you and stay here full time. And since I really just threw it at you without explanation, let me share a little backstory. When Mark owned this place, it was a normal, public gallery. We had full-time hours and full-time staff. He was going to close it. He shuttered it for a while but was going to reopen it with us.”
“Shuttered because it wasn’t making a profit?”
“No. Aside from Rebecca’s situation, which affected Mark deeply, his family owns the Riptide Auction House in New York. He took over the management of that operation sooner than he’d expected. Chris and I didn’t want to take this place on as a full-time job, so we paid the staff big bonuses and considered closing it down.”
“What changed?”
“We started talking and got excited in a new way. We’re going to develop new talent and do so mostly with special events, with a healthy portion of the profits going to charity. And because I still travel with Chris, we need someone who understands art and can become passionate with us while also running the place in my absence. My point here is that if the money is an issue—”
“Yes. Yes, I want to stay. This sounds wonderful, and the charity focus is inspiring. I’m really not worried about the money.”
“Holy fuck,” Nick says, stepping into the doorway, looking delicious in a navy suit that matches his eyes almost perfectly. “What am I going to do with you, woman? Of course you care about the money.”
Sara laughs and stands up, placing us both in profile. “Should I negotiate the salary with you?”
“No,” I say. “Nick does not get to negotiate my salary.” I look at him. “You do not get to negotiate my salary.”
“Technically, you’re my client, and—”
“Stop while you’re ahead, Tiger,” I warn, “because you won’t like the hotel sofa.”
His lips curve ever so slightly, but he manages a stern look at Sara. “Do right by her.”
“Yes sir, Tiger,” she laughs, then glances at me. “We shouldn’t let our two men spend too much time together without some rules. Their shared tendencies to control everything around them will have them feeding off each other, and we’ll be forced to check them.”
“Check me, sweetheart,” Nick says. “Just make sure it hurts.”
“On that note,” Sara says. “I’ll leave. Text me pictures from the show. And I’m talking to both of you.”
