by Lauren Dane
“The story is interesting. Will there be sex scenes?”
She shook her head, smiling. “Maybe.”
“She’s very sarcastic. I wonder where you get all the material for her.”
She snickered. “I’m really only at five or six on the sarcasm scale when I come to see you. You should see me when I’m not working.”
He should. He got the feeling it would be a hell of a lot of fun to see Wren Davis when she wasn’t on duty.
“You don’t need company manners here with me.”
“Oh, don’t worry, these aren’t my company manners. I’d never tell any of my other clients to stop fucking their crazy ex-wives.”
He nearly choked on his coffee. “I think I’m flattered by that. Give me a while to really be sure though. I might have some contacts. Publishing ones, I mean.”
She shook her head, reaching for the pad, which he kept because he wasn’t done looking.
“No. It’s okay. I can do this on my own.”
“Of course you can. But why not let a friend help you? Do you think this business isn’t rife with connections and networking? Isn’t that part of why you told me you went to school? The connections?”
“I appreciate the offer, but for now, I’m fine.”
“Other people would jump at that offer.” Was his help so terrible?
“I’m not other people, Gregori. I’m not your ex-wife. I’m not a hanger-on. I’m not a groupie.”
He was quiet a while as he continued to look through her work. Yes, she was most definitely not other people. Which fascinated him even as he knew he should be wary.
“I’ll offer again, when you’re closer to sending the project out. In the time between now and then, I want you to think on accepting help when it’s offered. If I wasn’t genuinely interested, I wouldn’t have said anything.”
She sighed. “I’ll think on it. Thank you.”
“Good. If only you always agreed with everything I said, imagine how much easier things would be.” He winked, his bad mood long gone. “I’m having a show next week. Friday night. I meant to ask if you wanted tickets when you were here last but I forgot.” He got up and grabbed the envelope. “I have four but I can easily get more.”
“I’d only need two. That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
He handed them her way. “Only two? Will you bring a date then?”
“Do you recommend it? A date to this show?” Her smile was lopsided and he couldn’t tear his eyes from the dimple there on the right side of her mouth. Why hadn’t he noticed it before?
“I don’t know. If it’s just you, or you and your roommate, you could always come out with me afterward. To Fixe. There will be a party there.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant when he suddenly felt anything but. “I mean with a group. There will be others along. I think you’d like many of them.”
He’d invited her to one other after-party, but he’d seen her there for all of five minutes and when he’d looked up again she’d been gone.
“Last time you ran off before I had a chance to say hello.”
She laughed and sipped her coffee. “I didn’t know you’d even noticed.”
Suddenly he was on uncertain ground with her. He wasn’t sure how or when it had happened, but there it was. The flavor of their relationship had deepened and the flirting was real.
“Of course I did.”
“You’re very agitated all the sudden. You should get a massage.”
“Are you poking at me?”
“Maybe. You need some poking. Anyway, I left early that night. I wasn’t feeling well.”
Really it was that it hadn’t been her scene at all. Unless he’d be inviting a bunch of new people she really couldn’t imagine any of the people she’d met at his last party being anyone she’d like. She’d been utterly out of her element and it had been disconcerting.
It was nice though that he’d noticed.
Something had shifted in their interplay and she wasn’t sure where to step next. When she’d come into the loft she’d known what to say and how to tease him. But now she had butterflies in her stomach.
He’d liked her work. His compliments had been genuine and thrilling. Not just because he was her friend and a talented artist in his own right. But because…well…she wanted him to see her as more than the girl who brought him stuff on her bike.
Not as an equal. Not yet. But she would put in her time and hopefully one day she’d be more comfortable with thinking of herself as an artist in the same company he was in.
“Hopefully you will not have to leave early this time. I’m sure I owe you at least a bottle of champagne for all you do for me.”
“I’m really looking forward to seeing your work. I see parts of it here, but it’s different when everything is finished and they’re in a gallery setting.”
“By that time I’ve let go. It’s almost like they’re someone else’s.”
“Really? Do you ever see the pieces later and feel differently?”
“My parents have some of my pieces up. It’s different, of course, because they’re my parents. When I walk past a building here in downtown and one of my pieces is there, it’s nice, of course. But my emotional connection to it has passed on.”
“I always feel like if I look at my work too closely once I’ve finished I’ll only see the flaws. I find it hard to turn off my internal editor. Even when things are long finished.” She blushed. “I mean, it’s not the same, obviously. I don’t have work in front of buildings and in a Microsoft executive’s living room.”
“Art isn’t about where it ends up. It’s about the creation.” He held up her notebook. “This is art, Wren. What you do to make it happen is art.”
For some reason the sweetness, the truth of that burned straight to the heart. “Thank you. For the tickets, as well.” She finished her coffee and stuffed one last macaron into her face. “Those are so good. Thank your mother for me. I need to go.”
He stood and walked with her to the door, handing her an envelope. “The tickets. Hold a moment and I’ll get my shoes on and my keys.”
“For what?”
“I told you I would drive you to your mate’s house. I have my truck downstairs. We’ll put your bike in it and I’ll drive you over. It’s dark and wet, a driver could miss you in the weather.” He frowned at her and she tiptoed up and kissed his cheek before she overthought it.
“Thank you.”
He smelled even better that close.
And then he blushed.
“You’re welcome. Who would bring me things if you got hit by a car?” His voice was gruff, but she heard the tenderness and affection in his tone.
“Messengers are a dime a dozen.”
He opened his door, locking up in their wake. “But there’s only one of you.”
Damn he was good.
Chapter Four
“You need to come with me.” Wren explained this to Zoe as she looked through her closet for something suitable to wear to the show.
“You should have invited some hot dude to go with you. Let the Russian know what he could be having if he’d only move it.”
“I don’t want that. I don’t want to have to be that sneaky and involve some guy. I just want to look good tonight. Things are changing between us. If I do this right, I can tip myself into the non-employee category.” Wren shrugged. “Also, I want to look hot. I want him, damn it.”
“Then let’s get moving so you can have him. First, something tight on top. Lower cut ’cause you have great boobs.”
“I was thinking about this.” She held up a silver, metallic sheath. Backless but for a few chains to hold everything in place. “With these trousers.” She could wear a skirt, but it was cold and…well, most of the women would be and she wanted to stand out.
“Yeah, that works. You can borrow that velvet blazer I have to go over it while you’re outside. Then you can take it off and give the BOOM. I say go for the Veronica Lake hair. Red lips. Hot vintag
e. It works for you.” Zoe looked at Wren’s hands and shook her head. “Your nails are a mess. I have some polish to match the lipstick.”
Her nails and hands did tend to be ragged, covered in ink. “He’s got artist hands.” She frowned looking at herself.
“Sure he does. And normally it’s acceptable because it’s what you do and all. But this is a special occasion, right? They’ll go right back to looking wrecked tomorrow.”
Zoe laughed.
“You’re right.”
Wren dressed and Zoe helped with the hair and makeup because she was awesome that way. Zoe looked effortlessly fabulous in a cute mini with tights and boots.
Vanity aside, she looked herself over and gave a mental thumbs up. “He sees me so often dressed for work. The last time I went to one of these parties I left after a few minutes. I was totally out of my element and uncomfortable.”
“You said he mentioned that you left. Clearly he wanted you there and noticed your absence. And girl, he’s gonna take a look at you in that outfit and really want you around.”
“Hee!” She smoothed a hand down the front of her pants. “All right, that’s out of the way. I’ve done my breathless giggle and it’s time to be a big girl. Let’s go. By the way, you look fabulous.”
Zoe lifted a shoulder. “Obviously. I’ll even drive so you can get tipsy enough to loosen up but not drunk enough to vomit.”
“Um, thanks for those guidelines.”
The gallery wasn’t too far away from Gregori’s loft and just up the street from Fixe so Zoe grabbed street parking when she found it and they’d walk over for both events.
There was a sweet spot for arriving at an art show and Wren had been to enough to have the basics down. They weren’t right on time, or too late. There’d still be appetizers on trays and the wine would be flowing.
“You’re an equal here. Don’t forget that,” Zoe said in an undertone as they went inside.
She wasn’t so sure she felt it, but she’d fake it if necessary.
Kelsey, standing next to Gregori, caught sight of them and waved them over.
The light hit him from behind and Wren stood, stunned into stillness for long moments. He had the full Mohawk going on. Spiked. He even had a few scarlet red streaks in his perfectly manicured beard to match his hair. Leather pants and boots. His long-sleeved dress shirt worked with both. Damn and damn again.
She really wanted a taste.
But then he turned to see what Kelsey had been waving at and his gaze started at the peep toed heels and slid up her legs, up her waist, pausing at her boobs and then when he got to her face he smiled slow and sexy, pausing just a brief moment when he recognized her. But the smile remained.
“Get some,” Zoe murmured and moved away as she headed to Gregori.
She turned. “Where are you going?”
“Wine and fancy appetizers, duh. Shoo.” She made a hand motion in Wren’s direction and sauntered away.
“Wren.” Gregori took her hands and kissed each cheek. “I’m glad you could come. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks. You do, too.”
She figured he’d chitchat and then wander off to hobnob with people, but he placed a hand at the small of her back and guided her toward Kelsey.
Her cousin hugged her quickly. “I was just headed off to get Gregori a drink. I’ll bring you one, too. You look hot.” She looked up to Gregori. “Right?”
He looked her over again. “Agreed. I’m going to show her around, come find me.” He pivoted and guided Wren off in another direction.
“A personal tour? I’m impressed.”
“I’m impressive, Wren. We’ve gone over this.”
Kelsey brought them each a glass of champagne. “I can get your coat checked if you like. It’s stuffy in here.”
Before Gregori took the champagne, he helped her from her blazer, and paused at the sight of all that bare skin on her back. It was hard enough—he was hard enough—at the sleek, shiny hair and the red lips. But the nearly backless shirt, the way her breasts swayed prettily as she moved? This was the Wren he’d tried very hard not to think about.
He had to force himself not to dip and kiss her shoulder.
He handed Kelsey the blazer and took the champagne. “Thank you.” Kelsey sent him a raised brow and a look that promised painful retribution if he acted like a dick.
Wren turned and looked up, into his face, a smile on those red, glossy lips. “Show me your work.”
She clinked her glass against his and he guided her through the gallery. He tried to scramble back behind the walls he kept up. Tried to treat her like a collector, but it was too late.
Wren saw his work in ways only another person who created things could see it. The questions she asked weren’t about the long term value of his work. She didn’t make sly or witty overtures. She understood him in ways so very few people did.
“I love the way you’ve changed perspective here. The color is abrupt. A slap. I’m always impressed with the way you’re so equally insightful be it in sculpture, multi-media, metal, paint, whatever. There’s so much in the shape of things, the way you use the brush.” She’d spoken to herself really, murmuring insights about things he hadn’t consciously thought of but were true.
She turned and a rush of her scent washed over him. He swallowed.
“I think you’ve got people waiting to speak with you.” She noted the others in the room who’d been watching him greedily.
He knew. But he didn’t want to shill his work. He wanted to be with her. “You won’t leave? You’re coming to Fixe after, yes?”
Her eyelashes swept down for a moment, a blush on her cheeks. Then she opened again. “Yes. Zoe and I will stop by.”
“We’ll go over together. I want to be sure you don’t run off.” He bent to kiss her cheek but she turned and his lips brushed against her mouth. Just a breath. A shiver rolled through him.
She stepped back, smiling. “I’ll be here. Go, sell.” She tipped her chin.
He turned and put on his Ivanov face, as Kelsey called it. Temperamental, a little sullen, sexy. Every inch the artist.
But then he turned and winked before he approached a group speaking with the gallery owner and his agent. Her heart did a woozy sort of flop-thump and it was one of those delicious moments that seem to only happen in the very beginning of…something.
“Holy shit.” Kelsey and Zoe sidled up, Kelsey took Wren’s empty glass, depositing it on a tray and grabbed her a new one. “He just kissed you. He walked around the gallery with you, totally focused on everything you said. I’m actually a little sweaty and it didn’t even happen to me.”
“He meant to kiss my cheek. I turned to say something and it was an accident.”
“He did not pull back. He could have.” Zoe shrugged.
She smiled. “No, he didn’t. He said he wanted to escort us over to Fixe and ordered me not to leave in that way of his.”
Wren was pretty sure she’d breached the employee camp walls.
“He’s kicking ass tonight. He’s sold everything here and all that schmoozing he’s doing right now is guaranteed to bring him more commissioned pieces.” Kelsey’s smile was satisfied. “They want him to do another show in New York, more of a meet-and-greet thing. His agent was working out details with me earlier today.”
“He’s a rock star.” They watched him saunter around the room. “Also? That face of his? Where he’s all bored and sort of sullen? I can’t lie, makes me tingly.”
“Yeah, he’s aces at it.” Zoe grabbed a few cake-type things from a passing tray. “These are good. Did you tell Kelsey about what happened today?”
“What?”
“One of my project partners on this animation assignment, her dad is an agent and she, my classmate, told him about my graphic novel. He went to look at some of my stuff I’ve got posted at my website and called me and asked me to send some stuff in.”
“Oh, my god! And you’re only telling me now?”
“This just happened like three hours ago. I still can’t quite believe it’s real. I mean, I’m managing my expectations right now. It’s an agent, not a publisher after all. But still.” She grinned. Still.
Kelsey went into planning mode. Wren could tell by the way her features scrunched up for a moment. “This calls for celebration! You’re coming to Fixe so that takes care of the venue.”
“No! That’s for Gregori. And the agent just asked to see a proposal. We’ll save the celebration for me actually getting an agent.”
“Stop hiding your light under a bushel, Wren. Let it shine. Also, there’s never really a bad time to clink a glass for good news. It’s not like Gregori hasn’t done this after-party thing a hundred times. He’ll be happy for you.”
“I don’t want you to make a big deal of it. I forbid it.”
Kelsey’s eyes widened and then she laughed and laughed some more. “You’re totally not the boss of me. My real boss is way scarier than you are. So hush. I have to take care of a few things and I’ll be back in a while.” She flounced off, probably to scare someone.
“Trust her to do this right. She’s going to do what she wants anyway. So, let’s look at art, baby.” Zoe linked arms with her and they wandered, looking at pieces.
And all the little sold cards. Damn. She smiled, truly thrilled for his success.
“Normally I’d be snarking. But there’s just nothing here to snark. He’s really good.” Zoe cocked her head and took in a large painting near the door.
“Right? It’s absurd how talented he is. When he works it’s like art, too. I’ve yet to see him try a different type of expression and not have it be phenomenal. He’s been selling his work since he was fifteen.”
“Damn, what a success hog.”
They laughed as they kept moving. The gallery had reached a point about twenty minutes before where it was wall-to-wall people, but now was beginning to thin out.
On the other side of the room he leaned against a post, surrounded by people. Mainly of the female persuasion and a frisson of annoyance slid through her belly.
“Yeah. So there’s that.” Zoe tipped her chin in his direction. “You gonna be able to deal with all that attention he gets?”
