Chapter 23 – Maura

MAURA

My hands are angry at me. They’re red and raw from raking through pieces of broken shale rock, which I stupidly decided to process without gloves. It’s my own damn fault for ignoring my own safety rules, but I’ve been so busy, I’m not exactly thinking clearly.

The past week has been full of nonstop show-prep.

On top of picking my existing paintings and having them stored and transported, I’ve been prepping the paint for my new paintings.

I need a new dark red piece to pull everything together, but none of the stones I have in stock have come out just right.

I rub my aching shoulder. It’s not just my hands—my entire body is mad at me for slouching while I work.

If my husband wasn’t in hour three of a fourteen-hour meeting marathon—seriously, what does he even find to talk about for that long—I’d ask him for a massage.

Oh, well. I’ll have to rely on a hot shower and Ibuprofen for relief.

With James unavailable and a mountain of prep work for the gallery show ahead of me, I desperately need a pick-me-up. I’d love to run over to the Copper Cup for a latte, but frankly, I can’t afford to waste the extra hour.

Instead, I open the group chat I’ve been added to with Brinley, Pippa, and Cat. I’ve been too busy to add much to the conversation, so I scroll up a bit to catch up on what I’ve missed.

Cat sent pictures of the shelter where she volunteers. She’s holding a ladle full of pasta and grinning.

Cat

My homemade mac and cheese was a hit at Saturday’s lunch.

Pippa

If there are leftovers, I need them. I’m stuck in editing hell for this article I owe tomorrow.

Brinley

Ugh don’t tempt me. I’m starting to worry that I’m lactose intolerant.

Pippa

You’re not.

Brinley

How do you know??

Pippa

Because you drink like eight lattes a day and you have time to run a business instead of living in the bathroom.

Brinley

Hmm. Good point. But explain why I get zits every time I eat ice cream!!

Cat

Because you crave ice cream during your time of the month?

Brinley

Whoa, true. You two should be body detectives.

Cat

You mean doctors?

I chuckle as I rub my shoulder. I might be tired and sore, but I also have three ridiculous girlfriends to make me laugh.

Opening my email, I find the invitation PDF Sydney made for my show’s opening night party.

It features a photograph of The Thunderstorm and, to my horror, a headshot of me.

I assume somebody from James’s office mailed it to her, since it’s a slight edit of my wedding pictures, with my ivory silk dress photoshopped into a professional black.

I might not want people in the art world to think of me as just Mrs. Keller, but I’ll admit, having James’s team at my disposal to handle all the legal and administrative tasks for the solo show has been a major bonus.

At this point, I probably talk to my husband’s assistant, Taylor, as much as I talked to James.

Copying the invitation from my email, I text it to the girls.

Maura

Sorry I’ve been MIA. Hopefully you’re free in a few weeks!

My phone blows up within minutes.

Pippa

Cat

OMG! You’re amazing, Maura!! Of course we’ll come to opening night.

Cat

Do you need any help getting press coverage? I can help with social media if you need it.

Pippa

Cat

You’re going to run out of emojis, Pips.

Pippa

Can’t help it! I’m too excited. Well-deserved.

Brinley

I always knew you were the real deal.

My chest warms. I’m not used to getting such a big reaction to good news. I haven’t always had a tight group of girlfriends to share it with, either—even if they just adopted me for James’s sake.

Normally, I might feel a twinge of guilt. These girls have no idea about my heart condition, which means they have no idea about the risk of loving me. At least they have each other. If anything happens, that’ll make it hurt less.

Maura

Thanks, everyone! The gallery is handling all the promotion, so all I need is your presence, Cat. I can’t guarantee the show will be a hit, but I can promise as much cheap gallery wine as you can stomach.

Brinley

Shush. The show will be freaking amazing.

Pippa

Don’t tell me anything. I want to be surprised, and I want to wear my most sophisticated art-y outfit, and I want to party all night.

Brinley

You’ll still show art at the Copper Cup after you’re famous and successful, right?

Purely for selfish reasons. I don’t want to look at a bunch of boring art at work all day.

Maura

I solemnly swear to be your art hook-up for life.

Pippa

While we’re all here, I’ve got a question for Maura.

How are things in the bedroom?

My jaw drops. Sometimes, I’m still surprised by how straightforward Pippa is, especially about sex. All the girls I knew from private school took the same etiquette classes I did. They’d never be so frank asking about someone’s sex life.

Even though it still shocks me a little, I also love it. I’ve had enough of people tiptoeing around my supposedly fragile feelings for a lifetime. I’ll take Pippa’s blunt sexual inquiries over gentle “So…how are you?”s any day.

Cat

By “things in the bedroom,” I assume she’s talking about renovations.

Pippa

Of course I am. I’m a lady. I’d never ask about anything else taking place under the sheets.

Brinley

Right. Because everyone knows, you do renovations under 4,000 thread count sheets.

Cat

Anyway…how are the renovations?

Pippa

Still getting nailed?

Brinley

PIPPA.

Pippa

What?? I’m talking about hammers.

Maura

We’re still working on fulfilling the contract.

Cat

…and?

Maura

I should probably respect his privacy.

Pippa

Boo! Privacy is overrated.

Ryan wouldn’t mind me telling you that our sex life is pretty damn good.

Cat

He’d probably tell you a lot more than that. Hell, the guys are probably getting a full recap from Ryan. He can’t shut up about renovations.

Pippa

I’d be offended, except he’s excellent with a screwdriver.

Cat

So is Nate.

…metaphorically. I’d be a better renovator than him. The man is so obsessed with work, I doubt he’s put together an IKEA table on his own.

Brinley

And I, tragically, remain single as a Pringle.

Pippa

We all spilled. Maura, it’s your turn.

I bite my lip. I doubt James shares much about our sex life with the guys, but I doubt he’d be offended if I dropped a crumb of truth to my friends. In fact, as I type out my response, I can picture the way the corner of his mouth twitches when he stops himself from smiling at something ridiculous.

Maura

He’s…very competent with a nailgun.

Pippa

Cat

I'm going to need more details than “competent.”

Maura

…extremely competent?

Brinley

That's just the same word with an adverb.

Pippa

On a scale of IKEA furniture to custom carpentry, where does he fall?

Maura

…the kind of carpentry that requires a permit.

Pippa

OH MY GOD

Cat

I'm screenshotting this conversation.

Brinley

I'm framing it.

Maura

Please don't.

Brinley

I’m sending all of you to horny jail.

I can’t hold back my snorting laugh. My shoulder might still be sore, but I feel better than I have all day. I scroll back up to their reactions to my solo show invitation. I screenshot them all, saving it as my “Emergency Hype File.”

If I’m going to survive the weeks until the show, I need all the pump-ups I can get.

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