Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
EMMA
I didn’t expect to find myself back so soon, but here I was, swallowing my pride to walk into Berkeley Art Gallery and explain myself to whoever would listen. I doubt anyone would be giving me pink peonies this time, like the one that was currently sitting in a small vase in my living room.
As I pushed through the glass doors, I saw the woman I’d seen on Friday night, sitting behind the front desk, tapping away at her keyboard. I was hoping to bypass her and walk straight in, but right away she lifted her head, and in a bored tone, asked, “Can I help you?”
“Oh, hi,” I replied, feeling awkward. “I’m just here to look around.” I didn’t feel like explaining myself to her.
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked, staring down her nose at me. “I’m afraid you can’t just walk in. It’s appointment only.”
I was about to tell her where to stick her appointments or make something up on the spot, when I noticed Lloyd sauntering into the main area of the gallery, and I caught his eye.
“I’m here to see Lloyd.” I pointed at him, and he frowned slightly, but he wasn’t charging over here to throw me out, so things weren’t looking too hopeless. “Thanks for your help.” I gave her a sickly-sweet grin and marched away.
“Emma.” Lloyd didn’t look that overjoyed to see me. The slight anger in his eyes and the tension in his jaw were a dead giveaway. He’d read the article. But he masked it well, painting on a fake smile and extended his arm to shake my hand. “I didn’t expect to see you here. How can I help?”
I shook his hand then took a deep breath, ready to have my say.
“I had to come, Lloyd. I expect you’ve seen the article.”
Lloyd dipped his head, then cleared his throat. “Yes. We’ve all read it. That’s why I’m surprised you’re here.”
“I’m so sorry,” I blurted, stepping closer to him. He didn’t move away. “That article and the things it said, they weren’t written by me. I mean, yes, it had my name on it, but I didn’t write it. On Friday, you were nothing but generous to me. So welcoming. And I really enjoyed being here and the performance, the art, all of it. It was amazing... and you... you’re amazing. This gallery put on a magnificent event and...”
“I’m sure you can understand how your article reflected badly on us, though,” he interjected, looking at me like he pitied me but wasn’t quite sure how to deal with me being here. “The artists we invite here can be somewhat... fragile, when it comes to the critique of their work. Your article was pretty damning.”
“But it wasn’t my article, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. And I feel awful about it.” I took a moment, waiting for him to tell me it was all okay. But he didn’t. He stayed silent. So, I went on. “I don’t want to upset any artists. And I was thinking, if you’re in contact with S.K.A.M. you could tell him how sorry we are at the Echo for printing that piece. I don’t have any way of contacting him, but I know you do.” I pleaded with my eyes now, as well as my words. “Please, Lloyd. Tell him it was a huge mistake. Tell him I didn’t mean to cause him so much hurt, but...”
“The words are out there now,” Lloyd stated plainly. Snapped even. He didn’t look convinced. “You can’t take them back, Emma. And if you can’t live with the consequences then maybe you shouldn’t have written...”
“But I already told you, it wasn’t me,” I argued, feeling like I was banging my head against a brick wall. Lloyd wasn’t listening and my visit here was starting to feel pointless.
“Nevertheless, the ripple effect from a review like that can be truly staggering.”
I felt a ten-tonne weight hit the bottom of my stomach, and adrenaline shots fired through me when I heard those words.
Truly staggering.
That’s what he’d said in the email he’d sent me.
You just achieved something truly staggering.
I swallowed, trying to control my nerves as I leaned a little closer and whispered, “It’s you, isn’t it.”
“What’s me?” Lloyd asked with a frown.
“S.K.A.M. It’s you. You’re the artist.”
Lloyd threw his head back and laughed. It was the first time I’d seen him crack his tough exterior since I’d arrived.
“Are you serious?” he asked, struggling to keep his laughter under control.
I nodded, and he shook his head.
“I wish I had that much talent.” His face softened. “But sadly, no. I’m not S.K.A.M.”
“But you had red under your fingernails on Friday after the performance,” I added, like I was fucking Poirot.
“I’ll admit, I was involved in setting up the staging, putting the buckets in place, and some of the contents might have spilled. But I didn’t stand on that wall and perform.” He took a step back and gestured to himself. “S.K.A.M. is over six foot, Emma. I wouldn’t make that height even in built up heels.” He laughed at himself, and I smiled too, because he was right. Lloyd didn’t match the build.
“Maybe there’s two of you,” I countered, adding, “I know you probably wouldn’t admit it, even if you were involved. You’d want to keep the mystery going.”
A mischievous twinkle sparked in his eyes, and he folded his arms over his chest before tapping his finger on his chin in thought.
“I know a way I can prove I’m not S.K.A.M.,” he said. “Have dinner with me next Thursday. S.K.A.M. is due to perform at a gala in Milan that night. If you have dinner with me, and he’s over there, then you’ll know it isn’t me.” He held his arms out. “I can’t be in two places at once, now, can I?”
I opened and closed my mouth way more times than was necessary trying to find the words to respond. Dinner with Lloyd was the last thing I wanted to do.
Then suddenly, I felt the heat of a stare from across the room, and I shifted my gaze from Lloyd to a pair of green eyes. Eyes that looked surprised at first, before a smile spread across his handsome face.
Alex Kingston mouthed something to a younger man who stood next to him, tapping away on a tablet, then he took a few long strides, walking over to where I was, keeping his eyes on me the entire time.
“Emma.” His warm expression softened as he said my name. “I tried to find you after the performance on Friday. But you left before I could say a proper goodbye.”
A rush of disappointment flowed through me. I wished I’d seen him too.
“It was so hectic at the end. I’m sorry I missed you,” I replied, and he nodded.
“I didn’t expect to see you here today. It’s a nice surprise, though.”
“I didn’t expect to be here,” I stated, as my heart beat faster, knowing that he was pleased to see me. “But I had to come to apologise.”
His smile faded.
“Apologise for what?” He glanced between Lloyd and me, looking mystified. “What’s happened?”
“The article,” Lloyd announced, raising his brows in a telling way.
“Have you read it?” I asked, feeling nervous about his answer.
“Of course I have.”
My breath caught in my throat and my beating heart stuttered with dread and fear.
“It was a little... abrupt,” he went on, choosing his words carefully. “But I don’t understand why you’re here to apologise.”
“It was abrupt,” I said, mirroring his words, “But it wasn’t my article.”
Lloyd cleared his throat, preparing to dive into the conversation, but Alex wouldn’t let him.
“What do you mean, it wasn’t your article?”
“I didn’t write it.”
“Who did?”
“Mr Gold.”
Alex nodded knowingly. “That doesn’t surprise me. But this isn’t your apology to make. It’s his.”
I was speechless and so fucking grateful that someone was finally listening to me.
Why hadn’t Lloyd been like this?
Maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad about having to turn down his offer of dinner next Thursday if he’d shown an ounce of empathy. But he hadn’t.
“I wish everyone thought like you,” I found myself saying.
“There’s people in this world who thrive on causing drama and misery for everyone around them.” Alex turned to Lloyd. “Isn’t that right, Lloyd?”
Lloyd nodded along enthusiastically, even though he was the type to be at the front of the crowd when drama was happening.
“Don’t let it upset you, Emma,” Alex said, reaching out to stroke the side of my arm. A gesture that left goosebumps on my skin and made my spine tingle. “They’re only words, and it was just an article that’ll be forgotten about tomorrow.”
“I hope you’re right, but I don’t think S.K.A.M. sees it that way,” I said, and Alex frowned, narrowing his eyes as he asked. “What makes you say that?”
“He emailed the newspaper.” I didn’t want to admit that the email was sent directly to me. “He wasn’t happy about what was written, to put it mildly.”
“He’ll get over it,” Alex said with a shrug. “He knows how things work in this world. And he knows Gold, too.”
“He was pissed off,” I said and then cringed that I hadn’t used better words to express myself.
“And that bothers you?” Alex regarded me closely.
“Yes.”
“But you can’t please everyone all the time. Especially when you weren’t in control of the words that were put out there in the first place.” He paused, then added, “It’s like the art I’m here to collect. A piece of the shattered heart. You feel torn, but it’s out of your control. How someone else reacts and what they feel is for them to worry about, not you.”
He made so much sense and I appreciated his kind words and how he was trying to ease my guilt.
“I guess you’re right.”
We stood gazing at each other, until Lloyd broke the silence.
“I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here today, Alex. You don’t usually do collections yourself.”
Alex took a deep breath, shrugged, and said, “I woke up and decided I’d like to oversee things myself. I don’t know why.” His eyes found mine again. “Call it a hunch.”
“A hunch about what?” Lloyd didn’t know when to be quiet.
“That is something I’m still trying to figure out.” I noticed the way Alex’s mouth twitched as he gave me a half smile, then he turned to Lloyd, and whispered, “But don’t worry, your work ethic and diligence is not in question here. I know you always do a first-class job at handling the art.”
Lloyd gave a fake laugh. But I knew he thought Alex was checking up on him.
I bit my lip and frowned, as Alex looked at me, and his eyes darkened. I freed my lip and held in a gasp.
Was it hot in here?
It certainly felt hot with him looking at me that way.
“I have a proposal,” Alex suddenly announced. Lloyd looked as intrigued as I was, but this proposal wasn’t addressed to him. “I don’t usually share my art collection. But lately, I’ve been thinking maybe I should. Perhaps that’s something you can help me with? I’d love to have you in my home, Emma, to show you my art and maybe you could write an article for me.”
Lloyd jumped in saying, “That’s a fabulous idea.” But Alex ignored him.
“Come to my home in Wintshire. You can take photographs of the art and write something for your newspaper that you feel proud of. Something you’re happier to publish. I don’t usually give interviews, but I’ll make an exception for you.”
I bit my lip again, I did it without thinking, and he stared at my mouth, his nostrils flaring as he took a deep breath.
“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” I mumbled nervously. This man had a way of knocking me sideways. He heightened every one of my senses and tilted my world on its axis at the same time.
“You would never put me out. And I have the largest collection of S.K.A.M. art in the country, if that helps to sway you.”
“Okay,” I said. I really didn’t need swaying. And the way he beamed back at me, like I’d made his year, was infectious. It made me smile, too.
“Let’s hope Gold doesn’t rewrite that one,” Lloyd scoffed, and I wanted to tell him to fuck off.
Why was he still here?
“I wouldn’t put anything past that man,” Alex snapped. “But I doubt he’d go so far as to piss me off.”
“I’d be happy to write a piece for you,” I cut in, wanting to grab Alex’s attention again.
I was curious and excited to see behind the curtain of his life. To find out more about this man. But at the same time, I was thankful he was giving me a chance to redeem myself. He had the largest collection of S.K.A.M. art. This was a golden opportunity to write a review that reflected how impressed I was by his talent. To give the artist the review he deserved.
“Good. That’s settled then.” Alex slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “I’ll get my assistant to call and make the arrangements, but until then, here’s my card.”
I reached to take the card from him, and for the briefest moment our fingers touched, and I felt it again, that jolt of electricity.
But when he lowered his hand, it was gone.
I glanced at the card I was holding, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him flex his hand by his side, as if the ghost of my touch still affected him.
“Thank you,” I said, “I really appreciate this.”
“It’s been lovely to see you again,” he said, his voice deep, yet gentle and sincere. “We’ll sort a date out soon.” And he took a step closer to me before brushing past and saying, “I’m sorry I have to leave you, but I’m late for a meeting.”
“Goodbye, Alex,” I said, turning to watch him walk out of the gallery and get into a black SUV parked outside.
“You do realise what just happened, don’t you?” Lloyd whispered, coming to stand too close to me. “I don’t think anyone has ever been invited to Sunford Manor, at least, not since the Duke and Duchess died. He’s always shunned visitors and he never entertains. When the Duke and Duchess were alive, they were always hosting events.” He nudged his arm into my side and smirked. “I think he likes you.”
“He just wants people to appreciate his art collection,” I replied, trying to fight the blush that I knew was spreading over my face.
“Be careful, though,” Lloyd went on. “S.K.A.M. is unpredictable. He’s someone you don’t want to upset. And if you do go to Sunford Manor, and write another piece for your newspaper, you need to make sure it’s right.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” I replied.
“So, about that dinner...” Lloyd started, but I shut him down right away.
“I’m so sorry, but I don’t mix business with pleasure. Thanks for the offer, though.” And while holding Alex Kingston’s business card firmly in my hand, I turned and walked away, leaving Lloyd to stand there in shock and gawp at me as I left.