Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Max, Now
Ava snaps photos of Daisy and me, and Eleanor appears before I can ask Daisy what she thinks of the drawing.
Eleanor guides someone toward me, but not just anyone—Antoine Archambault of Tate Modern.
The man who collaborated with luxury cruise lines to bring art to the seas, who spent over a decade managing the Frieze Art Fair, and who’s worked with greats like Yayoi Kusama and Marina Abramovi?.
“Antoine,” I say, starstruck as he shakes my hand. “What a pleasure to meet you. Eleanor, hi.”
The two of them rave about everything—the vibe, the vision, every big-name artist. I reach to weave Daisy into our circle, but she’s gone already. We’ve seen each other a grand total of thirty seconds tonight, but since she knows everyone here, that’s expected.
I never mentioned the potential job at Tate to her, so it’s probably best she’s off somewhere else. Still, I wish she could stand by me as I resist the urge to morph into a complete fanboy.
“What you’ve done is unbelievable,” Antoine says, and I need someone to pinch me. “This is not simply a museum, but an experience.”
“I’m pleased to hear you say that,” I say, or at least I think I say. “I—honestly, it’s an honor, coming from you.”
“When Eleanor told me you’d be a top candidate for the curator position with Tate, I trusted her, of course.
But seeing your efforts personally only emphasizes what an outstanding addition you would make to our team.
” He holds out a business card, which I stare at, until Eleanor intervenes and nudges my arm to Antoine’s.
“I’d love to get you out there for a few days to show you our own vision and talk about the role. ”
I gape at the card for who knows how long, processing the possibilities. “Sorry,” I mutter after a while. “This is…wow.”
“We’d originally planned to hire later in the year,” Antoine says, “but I got the finances cleared for this quarter.”
Eleanor’s face glows, and I wish I had talked to her sooner about my new plans. I don’t want to embarrass her in front of Antoine, or make him feel like his trip was a total waste.
“I was talking with Antoine about it,” Eleanor says and turns to him, “and what was it that you said?”
“That it would change the world with art. Not just in London, but everywhere.”
Eleanor nods. “And I knew. I just knew this was the job for you.”
“That’s…” It’s definitely a chance of a lifetime.
Antoine gives me a brief overview, and I warm to the idea.
With the pay from a respected museum, I could better support Daisy here.
Between busy days abroad, I could travel back to Harlow for long weekends and holidays with her.
I don’t know what the job entails yet, so I could negotiate more time off, and maybe even a decent enough salary that I could fly her out there regularly.
Success at Tate would boost Desert Daze.
I can do the London thing, she can keep The Mirage…
We could make this work.
I thank them and seek out Daisy. My search leads me outside, past the long line of guests waiting for entry.
The illuminated lobby appears empty, and the casita’s motion-activated lights haven’t turned on.
Although there isn’t an official footpath behind the building, I take a careful step over the brush and peer around the back of the barn to find a familiar silhouette.
“There you are.” I keep my voice hushed even though no one would be able to hear us with everything going on. “Needed a breather?”
“Yeah,” she says, crossing her arms and using her hands to rub her prickling goose skin.
“Here,” I say, sweeping my suit jacket over her shoulders. I use the move as an excuse to hold her close and give us a moment of calm amidst the madness tonight. “Hey, so, you won’t believe what just happened.”
“I know.” Daisy looks up at me, a sweet sadness in her eyes. “Antoine mentioned the job.”
I furrow my brow. I’ve barely had time to process the opportunity with Tate, and I wanted to tell Daisy myself.
Daisy wriggles out of my embrace, her arms still crossed. “I wish you had told me.”
“I’ve known all of five minutes.”
“You didn’t know about this until tonight?”
“I—” This must be what it feels like to be under a microscope. “My understanding of the position was all very abstract.”
Daisy leans against the building, her eyes trained on me. “You said the pop-up was to refresh your resume.”
“Eleanor mentioned a potential opening, and it was on my mind, but nothing was set in stone. I didn’t even know they’d officially started looking to hire, and I definitely didn’t expect that the person hiring would be here tonight.
It’s not how I would have wanted to find out about it, and not you, either. ”
These past few weeks, I forgot about the job.
But Desert Daze gave me more than this chance—it brought me Daisy again.
She sighs and tilts her head upward, and I don’t care about the constellations, or the Milky Way, or how rich of a royal blue the sky is against the haphazard outline of the distant mountains. All I care about is her.
“I’m sorry.” Eliminating the space between us, I take her hands in mine and press my lips to each knuckle. “I should have mentioned the position sooner.”
“It’s okay. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” I kiss her forehead in gratitude.
That’s not a phrase I grew up hearing much, and it means a lot coming from her.
“Look, you are the most important, but we could give this a try. There are direct flights from LA and Vegas. The UK gets more built-in vacation time, so I could swing back here all the time. I can fly you over, too, whenever you want.”
Her head perks up, as if she’s surprised I’ve thought this through already. “You want to do long distance?”
With an uncomfortable laugh, I shift on my feet. Why else would I be suggesting transatlantic flights for the weekend?
Daisy’s head shakes from side to side. “You can’t say that you’ll stay one moment and then take the next great gig that comes along.”
“I wouldn’t call Tate Modern a gig.”
“Whatever. We aren’t doing long distance.”
I scan her face, from the stubbornness in the set of her jaw to the determination glinting in her gaze. She’s right—taking the Tate job would require a lot from both of us. We’re just at the start of our relationship, so if it’s not the right time, then I have my answer.
“Alright,” I say. “I’ll message Antoine and let him know I’m not interested.”
“Max.” Daisy slinks her arms around my torso, and I ease into her touch. “You’re gonna take the job.”
“So you wanna give it a try?”
“No.” Her face falls, and she gives a small shake of her head. “You’ll go, and I’ll stay.”
“What’re you talking about? Just this morning—”
“This morning, you didn’t have an unbelievable job offer dangling in front of you.”
It takes a moment, but her words punch me square in the jaw. She was all in, ready to take the leap with me, but this offer from Tate has scared her off.
“No,” I say. “No, no, no.”
“Yes, you want this—”
“Don’t tell me what I want.”
“You do, though.” Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be doing mental gymnastics to figure out how to have it.”
I hesitate. While I don’t understand why I have to choose one or the other, I definitely don’t want the job if it means losing Daze.
“You can’t demand that I take this job.”
“Max, there is no job like this in the world. This is bigger than a college scholarship or a summer program. You’re passing up a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
“Happily.”
“Well, I don’t want you to.”
She may as well have shoved me. “There are compromises in every relationship, and I’m—”
“I don’t want you to compromise.”
“I’m willing to do this. To put in the work. But you don’t even want to try?”
“Try what? Try for phone call dates we can’t even promise to keep?
For quick weekend trips where one of us is too jet-lagged to do anything and then has to turn back around two days later?
For a social life and a career while dating someone thousands of miles away?
” Tears spill down her cheeks, and she smears them with an angry swipe.
“I can’t step away from The Mirage whenever the mood strikes, so you’d be the one doing most of the travel. ”
“I’d love that.”
“I’d be holding you back from your life, Max. You know it.”
“You are my life.” Frustration surges through me, because she’s doing this again—making a choice for me rather than with me. “I’m staying.”
She looks at me like I told her I can walk through walls. “You can’t do that.”
“I can. Please, just—forget Tate. I want to stay.”
“Why?”
“Because—” I almost say, because I love you, but Daisy’s not one for cliché declarations. I run my thumb across her cheek. “Because we’re each other’s.” We said so. “And because I want to be with you.”
Her hand slips out of mine, and I lose my balance at the loss. “You’re always going to wonder what that life would have been like, and you’ll hate me for taking that away from you.”
“I don’t want that life.”
“Three months ago you did.”
“And a lot has changed in three months, Daze. A lot has changed since I was younger, too. I always thought I wanted to leave Harlow, leave my parents, and follow my passion. But my passion is here. It’s you.”
Daisy’s chin quivers, and she shakes her head. The walls I spent this entire summer tearing down have gone back up.
“Don’t do this.” I point to the barn. “This pop-up is the most incredible thing I’ve ever done. I poured myself into this project.”
“Exactly.” Daisy holds my head in her hands, forcing eye contact.
“You are amazing. So much so that some hotshot from fucking London flew here to offer you a job. Your passion is not just for Harlow, but it’s for art all around the world.
Mine anchors me here, but yours can take you anywhere. And it should.”
Nausea roils in my stomach. I press my forehead to hers, wishing with all my might that if I hold her a little closer, if I plead with her a little more, she’ll change her stubborn mind.
“What’re you saying?” I croak.
“I think you’d be a fool not to go.”
My blood runs cold. I release her, backing up a few steps and rubbing my eyes to clear my vision. “How am I never good enough for you?”
“You’re too good, Max. Too good for this town, and too good for me.”
That’s the last thing I want to hear—that she’ll sacrifice what we could be for me. I turn the corner, and her pleas get eaten in the breeze.