Emily

“Where the hell is he?” I muttered, looking at the clock. Arthur was late. And that wasn’t like him at all.

I reached for my phone to call—because he detested texting and refused to do it—and yelped in surprise when Niko stepped out of the rear hallway.

“Shit! You scared me half to death!” I put a hand to my chest and glared at him. “What are you doing skulking around like that?”

His hair was full of snow when he hung his head, and I noticed he’d at least worn somewhat more appropriate shoes this time. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Why are you here, Niko? And where’s Arthur?”

He hesitated and something in his expression made me nervous.

“Is he okay?” I prodded, not liking the feeling of foreboding in my gut. Arthur had looked so haggard lately. “Did something happen?”

Niko stepped forward and shook his head. “He’s fine. Just a touch of the flu, I’m afraid. He phoned me early this morning and asked that I tell you Merry Christmas for him, since he won’t see you before the holiday.”

“And you’re sure he’s okay?”

“Achy and feverish, but he says otherwise he’s fine.” His gaze lingered on mine long enough to make me uncomfortable. He seemed to be studying me, gauging my response.

“You could have called to tell me that, you know?” I refused to look away, so I stared right back until he averted his gaze.

He stepped over to the reception area and fiddled with the pamphlets stacked on the high counter. “One of Arthur’s concerns was that he was leaving you here alone. So, I told him I would stop in to keep you company.”

“You could also have just let me take the day off, given that there’s no work left to do anyway.”

“Perhaps. But I also wanted to speak to you about Mr. Chase.” Even with the empty gallery, he glanced around before using Ethan’s real name out loud.

I bristled, my guard instantly up. “What about him?”

“Nothing about him specifically. I wanted to speak to you about my inconsistency regarding the whole thing. I feel I owe you an explanation and maybe even an apology.” He offered me a weak smile and gestured to the break room. “I need coffee. How about we brew ourselves some and sit down for a chat?”

“I started a pot when I arrived. It should be ready.” I waved him ahead of me and let him lead the way, not feeling entirely comfortable giving him my back. After all, I’d caught him checking me out on numerous occasions, and we were all alone here today. I wasn’t stupid. This was Female Safety 101 stuff.

Once we were in the break room, I stepped around him and made my coffee first, not giving him the opportunity to handle my cup and also not offering to pour his for him because it wasn’t my damn job.

He wanted to apologize, fine. But I wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

When we each had our cups poured, we sat at the table—across from one another—and he began after a long, tired sounding exhalation.

“I’ve been unclear with you on my expectations, and I know that. It’s a hard thing to navigate, this opportunity. Ethan—Conspicuous—was by far the most successful exhibition this gallery has had since I took ownership. In part because of his status but also because of you. You handled the event and yourself with the utmost of professionalism. It was flawless. And people noticed.”

He smiled at me then, and it did touch his eyes, lighting them in a way I’d never seen from him before. “With all these new eyes on the gallery—and on you—a second Conspicuous exhibition could elevate this gallery to something even I never dreamed of.” His eyes dropped to the table for a moment, and he picked at his cuticles. “I know I probably gave you whiplash with my erratic behavior—sending mixed signals about what I wanted done, and how I wanted you to handle things. But it wasn’t intentional. I was struggling with it, still am. When I saw the photos online of you with him on Black Friday…” He blew out a breath. “I know Ethan has an interest in you, and part of me—a part I’m not particularly proud of—wanted to capitalize on that. His attraction to you gives us an edge, an underhanded one, but an edge nonetheless.”

“And you felt like crap for thinking that, so you went back and forth on whether to encourage it.” I supplied, filling in the blanks.

“Yes, but not for the reason you think. It’s unethical for me to expect you to use yourself as bait, but that’s not the biggest reason I grappled with this.”

“What, the idea of basically pimping me out to gain a client wasn’t enough?” I was half annoyed and half amused. Mostly because I didn’t give a shit either way what Niko approved of, so it was a moot point. Ethan and I were bound together from the moment he walked through the door.

Niko still hadn’t looked up, which wasn’t like him. Usually, even when he was apologizing, he had an air of superiority, like he was consoling an insolent child. Something that he had in common with a lot of wealthy men—he didn’t show weakness very often. And it made me infinitely more nervous that he was now. “Ethically, yes, it should have been enough and would have been, if it weren’t overshadowed by my jealousy.”

Jealousy.

His word landed there between us with an almost audible thud.

Son of a bitch.

I leaned back in my chair, wanting as much space as possible between us without actually getting up and walking out…yet. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t.” My tone was flat and even. “It’s not going to end well if you do.”

He looked at me then—really looked—and whatever he saw on my face, it wasn’t what he’d hoped to find. I stared back at him, stoic and on the defensive.

I wasn’t particularly afraid of him. I felt like I could probably best him if he got handsy. Not that I thought he actually would. I didn’t think this was a smarmy come-on or some ruse to corner me alone in the gallery. It seemed like it was his confession, him taking a chance and laying it out there just in case I might feel the same way. I’d never given him any indication that I was interested in him.

Not one.

I’d purposely kept my distance when I realized his eyes lingered on me too long.

I waited him out, letting him search my face as long as he needed to get the message that I knew was clear as day from my expression.

I’m not interested. Period.

It might as well have been written across my forehead. And after a moment, he seemed to get what I was putting out.

He nodded once and stood, a solemn expression on his face. “I shouldn’t have waited until there was someone to be jealous of. I should have told you ages ago, maybe then…” His eyes darted to me, and I shook my head, feeling almost sorry for him.

“Not even then,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound mean. I needed to let him know in no uncertain terms that it would never have happened, Ethan or no Ethan.

He didn’t look at me as he dumped his coffee down the sink and threw the paper cup in the trash. “Funny thing about money—people think it makes life easier, and in some ways, it does. But it also makes it lonelier.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

“You should head on home; there’s nothing left to do here anyway. Merry Christmas, Emily,” he muttered as he walked out the door.

I sat there for a while, staring into my coffee. There was so much to process, so much to think about before the new year began.

One thing was for certain, I couldn’t picture myself walking back into this gallery after the new year. Not because I was afraid or intimidated by Niko, but because from this moment forward, I would wonder if every opportunity was motivated by his feelings for me.

If I didn’t get to handle an event, would it be because he was angry I turned him down?

If I did get to handle an event, would it be because he had feelings for me, or worse, because he was hoping I’d feel indebted to him and give in to his advances?

There would be no way to know, and I couldn’t work like that.

Shit. Why hadn’t he just kept his mouth shut?

I secured the back entrance, gathered my belongings and Ethan’s present, and made my way to the front exit, choosing to get my last glimpse of the gallery from the street rather than the bland back alley.

I hailed a cab and waited while the driver worked to fit Ethan’s gift into the trunk, taking one last look at the place I’d come to love.

I knew I’d never go back inside as an employee, maybe not even as a guest.

The truth was, I’d been ready to move on, but hesitated because I feared the unknown. By revealing his feelings to me, Niko had given me the nudge I needed.

Everything about my life was changing, evolving.

And I was relieved to realize I was hopeful rather than afraid.

I was going to be okay.

I could feel it.

That very afternoon, I emailed Niko my two-week’s notice.

He didn’t respond.