If he didn’t find someone to talk to now, he was going to go mad.
He briefly considered calling Zita, but there was no knowing whether she’d talk to him. Breaking up with Carly meant he’d probably lost Zita’s friendship as well. He sighed.
He walked past Sarah’s door, hoping to catch her attention. She was on her computer, watching a video.
“Taking a break?” he asked, going in.
She turned to him. “No. This refugee symposium is work related. It’s being live-streamed from Houston.” Sarah worked for the Department of Homeland Security. “I’m really interested in the next speaker. She’s been running a trial whereby unaccompanied child refugees are given housing in the community while awaiting the processing of their applications. People are totally against it because they fear the refugees will disappear and never be heard from again, but there has to be a better way than those detention centers. Her speech could change people’s perceptions.”
Wasn’t it just his luck that his brother’s fiancée was a big advocate for refugees like Carly?
He turned to go, not wanting to think about the woman who had broken his heart, when he heard the words, “Carolina Flanagan.”
He froze. He’d forgotten all about the symposium. Slowly, he turned back to the computer as Carly walked onto the stage amid polite applause.
She looked good. So very good.
She held herself with such confidence, and as she spoke Carly shone through, not Carolina. She wasn’t speaking as a billionaire philanthropist, she was talking as the woman who’d been a scared refugee and had grown from her experiences into someone who wanted to help those like herself.
As she spoke, Evan hung on to her every word, happy to hear her voice again. This was why she couldn’t come to his exhibition. This was what was so important. This was more important than his exhibition. This was about improving people’s lives. She spoke with passion, with determination, and as she spoke Evan couldn’t understand why people could even question the legitimacy of refugees in the first place. He was one hundred percent behind her all the way.
When she finished her speech and walked off stage, he applauded along with Sarah.
“Isn’t she amazing?” Sarah said. “She does fabulous things with the migrant community in Houston, and Comunidad is used all over the world.”
“She is amazing.”
Would she forgive him for his childish mistake? He’d been a fool. No, a jackass. He’d forgotten an important event in her life. He had to apologize. But what he needed to say shouldn’t be said over the phone.
Evan ran his hand through his hair. He shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. He’d let his insecurities rule him, and this was where it got him. He’d lost the one woman who had actually understood him.
He needed to get back to Houston. But he couldn’t miss his exhibition opening. Heading for his computer, he checked the first available flight to Houston. It was tomorrow morning. He booked it and sat back.
He hoped she would forgive him.
***
Evan stared at his reflection in the mirror of the gallery’s bathroom. He couldn’t shake the nerves that had never affected him this badly before. Perhaps because he’d never had an exhibition this large. If the critics loved him, it could mean being able to concentrate on what he wanted to do, rather than having to grab every job that came his way. But the gallery had recommended ridiculous prices for his work. He didn’t think anyone would pay that much – not for something he did.
His thoughts went to Carly and how she dealt with her nerves. Her speech had been streamed nationally, perhaps even internationally, and despite her fear of public speaking, she had been poised and in control. He needed to take a leaf out of her book.
“Evan, are you ready?” the curator, Georgia, called.
No. He wasn’t, but it was already seven thirty. The gallery had been open for half an hour and now they would do the official opening. He was supposed to be out there, schmoozing with patrons, but his stomach hadn’t been up to it. “Be right there,” he called.
He washed his face, dried it with paper towel and stared into the mirror. “Don’t mess this up.”
He walked out and smiled at Georgia. “Are we ready to go?”
She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry. People have already been saying good things.”
Evan followed her into the exhibition space. There was a crowd of people there, far more than he’d expected. As he joined Georgia on the stage, he noticed there wasn’t a lot of standing space left. Hopefully it would create some buzz.
He scanned the crowd, and spotted his brother with Sarah and their parents. Karl grinned at him and gave him the thumbs up. Evan smiled, some of the nerves calming.
Georgia began to speak and he turned his attention to her.
“I’m so pleased to be bringing you this exhibition. When my colleague told me about an artist he’d seen in Houston and showed me some of his work, I knew immediately I had to have him. His art draws you in, has you feeling the experience and touching part of you. He doesn’t just capture a landscape, he captures its soul. I challenge you to look at his paintings and not feel something. Trust me when I say, you will want one of his works in your house. But enough from me. Let me introduce you to the man himself, Evan Hayes.”
There was a round of applause and Evan stepped forward to the microphone. Georgia had told him to talk about one of his paintings and he’d chosen the one in the square. It was the only painting that didn’t have some kind of connection to Carly.
“Thank you. I’m not sure I deserve those platitudes from Georgia, you’ll have to make up your own minds.” He gazed around the crowd and saw polite interest. “My painting ‘The Square’ is of somewhere you might recognize. It’s in New York, not far from this gallery, and it was where I spent every weekend as a teenager. It’s so familiar to me that I could paint it without a photo. I used to love watching people go by, and drawing them, and it didn’t take long before people would stop, see what I was doing, and ask me to draw them.”
Someone in the crowd gasped and murmured to the person next to her. Perhaps she remembered him.
“So I spent my weekends drawing and earning money doing what I loved.”
There was movement at the back of the room as a latecomer arrived. The bright emerald green of her dress caught his attention. His breath caught.
Carly.
She was wearing her favorite color and her hair fell in riotous curls around her face. It was the first time she’d been out in public without straightening her hair. And she’d come to see him.
She gave him a small smile.
But she’d been in Houston. How had she gotten here?
Georgia cleared her throat, and Evan realized everyone was waiting for him to continue. His heart beat faster and he focused. “Thank you so much for coming and I hope you enjoy my work.” He stepped back.
There was polite applause and the crowd split into smaller groups. Evan wanted to run over to Carly, but as he moved off the stage, he was stopped by a man.
“Evan, my name is Sergio Abate.”
The name stopped him in his tracks. Sergio was the curator for one of the biggest galleries in New York. Evan shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“I really love your work. You trained at the Rhode Island School of Design, didn’t you?”
Amazed the man knew even that much about him, Evan nodded, glancing to see where Carly was. She was standing in front of the painting of her mother.
“Georgia has been raving about you, so I had to come. What other work have you done? What’s your favorite medium?”
He had to focus. “I love oils, but I like experimenting with different media as well. I tend to do a lot of sketches before I do the painting.”
Sergio raised an eyebrow. “And what do you do with the sketches?”
“They’re in a folder at home.”
“I’d love to see them.” He handed Evan a card. “I
won’t take more of your time now, but call me during the week, and we can talk.”
“Thank you.” Sergio walked away and Evan clutched the card. Wow. Only in his wildest dreams had that conversation ever taken place. He couldn’t get over his luck. He grinned and then saw the green out of the corner of his eye.
Carly.
He turned, but it wasn’t her. It was another woman who wanted to talk to him. When he extricated himself from her, he spotted Carly and was halfway across the room when someone else stopped him. He met Carly’s eyes and she nodded at him, encouraging him to talk with the people. She understood. Of course she did. This was her life. Not being able to do what she wanted to do.
He understood that now.
He finished talking to the man and finally strode across the room. He made it to her side.
“Carly.” He didn’t know what else to say. He’d been an idiot. He’d said hurtful things, been a complete ass.
“Congratulations, Evan. This is a great turnout.”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry I was late. There was a delay with the helicopter.”
“Helicopter?” What was she talking about?
She smiled. “Turns out if you have enough money, you can hire a private jet and a helicopter in order to make it to the opening night of the exhibition of the man you love.”
His heart stopped. He was sure of it. “Love?”
“I love you, Evan.” Her smile wavered a little, as if she was unsure of his reaction. She took a breath and continued. “When you left without saying goodbye, I realized how hurt you were. You only wanted one thing from me, my support. I wanted to come to the exhibition, but the symposium was so important to my mother, to Zita, and to all of those girls—”
“You don’t need to explain,” he assured her. “If I’d let you explain back then, I would have understood. I saw your speech.” His fingers curled into her hair. “It was so amazing. You needed to be there.” He had to tell her why he’d behaved the way he did, but it was too crowded here, too noisy. Taking her arm, he led her outside. “I was feeling so insecure before you called, so sure the exhibition was going to be a failure. I needed reassurance and it seemed like you were rejecting me.” He sighed. “I reacted instinctively, defensively. I’m sorry. My heart was breaking, but I should have trusted what we have. For the first time, I’d found someone who understood me, someone I’d fallen in love with.” His heart pounded as her smile widened. “I love you so much.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her. “I’m so sorry for how I reacted, so sorry for leaving without saying goodbye.”
“I understand, really I do. I’m sorry for not explaining right away.”
It was his fault, but there was no reason to harp on about it. She’d forgiven him. “I like your hair.”
She reached up to touch it. “Me too. I’m not sure anyone recognizes me. No one has spoken to me.”
That would be a nice change for her.
“Where are you living now?” Her question was hesitant.
“I’m staying with my brother until I figure out where I’ll go next.”
“There’s always a place in Houston for you,” she said. “I know you don’t like the penthouse, but there’s some acreage I was thinking of buying. I’m considering building my own cottage.”
He grinned. “That’s a great idea.”
“So, what do you think?” she asked. “Could you handle living with me?”
His heart couldn’t get any lighter. He paused for a moment, then shook his head. “No, your mother would never approve.”
She gaped at him.
“But if you married me that would probably be OK.”
She did a great impression of a goldfish. Grinning, he drew her closer to him. “Marry me, Carly,” he murmured. “I don’t want to be away from you ever again. I want us to be together, to ignore each other while we’re working and come together when we’re not. You’re the only person who has really understood me.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’ll marry you, yes, I’ll live with you, and yes, I’ll ignore you when I’m working.” She laughed.
His heart sang as he kissed her again. His best friend was going to marry him.
“There you are,” Georgia exclaimed, coming out of the gallery. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but Evan, you need to mingle a little more.”
“Absolutely,” he said. “Georgia, let me introduce you to my fiancée, Carly.”
“Nice to meet you.” Georgia gave Carly a brief smile. “I can understand you’re both excited about the exhibition, but you need to let Evan meet people.”
Evan almost swallowed his tongue. Georgia had no idea who she was talking to.
“Yes, ma’am,” Carly said with a grin.
He shook his head. He loved this woman. She was amazing.
He slipped his hand into hers and walked back to the entrance. He was ready for anything. He was where he belonged. “Let’s see how this goes.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
As always there are many people I need to thank for helping me with my research; Dave for talking to me about painting and the different processes that can be used, Karen for answering my questions about art galleries, Randy for information about indie game development, and Carmen for the Spanish translations and information about El Salvador.
I also want to thank Ida from Amygdala Designs for the gorgeous cover, Dianne Blacklock for editing and helping me to improve the story, and Brooklyn Ann from Grammar Smith Editing Services for proofreading the book.
About the Author
Claire Boston is the best-selling author of The Texan Quartet. In 2014 she was nominated for an Australian Romance Readers Award as Favorite New Romance Author.
Her debut contemporary romance novel, What Goes on Tour caught the attention of Momentum’s Joel Naoum when her first scene was read aloud at the Romance Writers’ of Australia (RWA) conference in 2013. This led to a four book contract for The Texan Quartet series.
Claire is proactive in organizing social gatherings and educational opportunities for local authors. She is an active volunteer for RWA, as a mentor for aspiring authors and the reader judge coordinator.
When Claire’s not reading or writing she can be found in the garden attempting to grow vegetables, or racing around a vintage motocross track. If she can convince anyone to play with her, she also enjoys cards and board games.
Claire lives in Western Australia, just south of Perth, with her husband, who loves even her most annoying quirks, and her two grubby but adorable Australian bulldogs.
Claire loves to hear from her readers. You can find her at her website, www.claireboston.com, on Twitter, @clairebauthor, and on Facebook www.facebook.com/clairebostonauthor. You can also join her reader group at http://eepurl.com/Z4-4z.
Break the Rules
The Flanagan Sisters # 1
Bridget Flanagan knows how to assess risks, but are the consequences of exposing her heart too dangerous?
Bridget has a passion for safety and in the world of oil refineries that makes her great at her job. So when her big promotion goes to someone else, she heads out on the town to forget her troubles. Jack Gibbs seems like the perfect man to distract her.
At least until Monday morning when she discovers Jack is her new boss. There's no way she's going to keep seeing him, no matter the connection between them. She's been burned before.
Jack can't understand why Bridget's so against their relationship. They positively sizzled during their one night together. He knows he has to be careful now she reports to him, but she tempts him in every way.
Can Jack convince Bridget to give him a chance, or is the risk too high?
http://www.claireboston.com/books/break-the-rules
Blaze a Trail
The Flanagan Sisters # 3
They’re from the opposite ends of town but they’re worlds apart.
Zita Flanagan wants more. She wants to help more Central American refugees and make
more of an impact. But her family comes first and fulfilling her own dreams seems impossible.
David Randall leads a privileged life and knows nothing about refugee issues. When he meets dynamic, sexy Zita, it seems like the perfect opportunity to learn. Zita’s passion for helping those less fortunate and her selfless devotion to the girls her mother fosters brings David’s life sharply into perspective.
Zita soon realizes that David is so much more than a rich boy. She begins to trust him with her foster sisters’ stories, and her own hopes and dreams. But when David’s father announces he’s running for governor and the focus of his campaign is the ‘refugee problem’, Zita has grave concerns for her sisters’ safety. Then David’s betrayal exposes secrets, and it becomes a race against time to save lives.
Can David convince Zita to trust him again, or will his mistake put the life of the woman he loves in jeopardy?
http://www.claireboston.com/books/blaze-a-trail
Change of Heart (The Flanagan Sisters, #2) Page 22
