Chapter 6
SELENE
D arth Vader’s theme blares in my ears and I bolt upright in bed, startled. Maybe it’s time to switch my alarm to something less scary. Nah. I love Darth Vader and his sexy black armor way too much.
But speaking of sexy … I wonder if Caiden finally messaged me.
I stayed up for as long as I could when I got home last night, waiting for Caiden to message me. Like a dork, I forgot to ask for his number, so I just kept refreshing the Kismeet app, hoping he would message me there. But I fell asleep waiting.
A sinking disappointment sits uncomfortably in my throat as I see no new messages from him. What the fuck? Did he ghost me? Did I scare him off? Was I too weird? Maybe it was the fated mates thing.
But he seemed enthused and even excited about the prospect of being mates. He even asked how to seal the bond and I didn’t see asshole vibes from him. So, what gives?
I must have messed up somehow. What else could it be? Maybe I was a bad kisser? No one has ever complained before. All the ghosted dates flash through my mind. I bet they decided I was a shitty kisser and that’s why they never got back to me. And now I’ve ruined my chance at true happiness because of my fumbling lips.
My heart begins to pound, and my nose tingles as tears form in my eyes. Even if it wasn’t the kiss, Caiden has ghosted me. I’m humiliated. There’s no one else for me but Caiden. How can I settle for anything less than my mate?
But he rejected me and now I’m doomed to be alone the rest of my life.
Sweat causes my chest fluff and clothes to cling to my skin. It’s not even hot in my apartment. In fact, I’m shivering as if I’m freezing. Why the fuck do I have the cold sweats right now? It doesn’t help that I’m also struggling to breathe.
Wait. I’m not breathing.
I finally release the breath I’ve been holding in a few short puffs of air.
“Relax, Selene,” I murmur to myself, sucking in a deep, slow breath through my nose before letting out through my mouth.
I’ve done enough therapy at this point to at least recognize when I’m having an anxiety attack. The first sign should have been the catastrophizing thoughts, but I usually don’t catch on until I realized I’ve forgotten to breathe.
“Everything is going to be okay,” I say out loud, feigning confidence. “What evidence do I have that Caiden has ghosted me? Sure, he hasn’t messaged me, but there could be a billion other reasons he hasn’t. But even if he hasn’t messaged me because he’s no longer interested, why does it matter? I’ve gone the past forty-three years of my life without him. I don’t need him. Caiden can fuck right off.”
I nod. Boom! My therapist would be proud of me for this line of thinking. But it doesn’t ease the dark cloud that officially looms over head. All I can do is repeat my new mantra: “I don’t need him” every time he pops into my head.
And I hope it works because I have a meeting with Sebastian Johnson, the owner of Shadow and Light Gallery, in exactly two hours. That’s just enough time to enjoy a cup of coffee, eat, shower, and get ready before fighting with downtown traffic and parking to get to the gallery.
Okay. No more Caiden thoughts. This is the last meeting before the most important night of my life. This is my biggest showing to date. Shadow and Light not only brings in larger crowds, but it also draws art critics.
I’ve done smaller shows and have managed to stay afloat financially by selling a few original pieces here and there. Most of my income comes from commissions from various businesses around Nashville, but it would be cool to get more exposure as an artist. My dream is to be listed among the names of other famous neon artists like Chryssa and Alex Da Corte.
In order to do that, I have to nail this show with Shadow and Light Gallery. I already have all the pieces I need to curate an awesome display, but if I want to keep getting shows, then I’ll have to build a good rapport with Sebastian.
Which … kind of sucks. He isn’t exactly my cup of tea. It doesn’t help that every time I meet with him, he gives me the creeps. I don’t know why he insists on standing way too close or smiling at me a little too long, but I really hate it. But what can I do? He owns one of the best galleries in Nashville and I can’t afford to lose this opportunity.
I make myself a protein shake and a toasted bagel with extra cream cheese before showering and getting ready. Sometimes I wish I could take a bath, but while my wings can handle the drizzle of my shower, they can’t be submerged in water. Not only would I risk damaging them, but they would take forever to dry.
After getting ready, I rush to my car, hoping I only hit green lights. That’s the thing that kind of sucks about Nashville … it’s a car-reliant city for the most part. Sure, I can walk to my studio from my apartment, but forget about walking to the gallery. Thankfully, Nashville traffic was kind to me, and I arrived at the gallery with ten minutes to spare. Perfect. I like being early, but not enough that it’s awkward.
As I walk to the entrance of the gallery, I check my phone one last time for any messages from Caiden and find none. Bastard.
“Hello, Selene!” the cheery voice of Sebastian’s satyr assistant greets me from the front desk as I walk through the door.
“Frederick! Hi!” I beam, excited to see him. “How’s it hanging?”
The wrinkles around his eyes become more prominent as he chuckles. “Slightly to the left.”
Frederick is a satyr in his early seventies with deep brown skin and a long white beard, but he’s as spry as someone half his age. Technically, he retired from his career as one of the best ceramists in Nashville when his arthritis caught up to him. But he’s so passionate about the art community that he sought a job where he could still be involved, despite probably never needing to work another day in his life. Plus, he told me once he was extremely bored and couldn’t stand sitting at home and doing nothing anymore.
And I couldn’t be more thankful that he did. We instantly connected and quickly became friends, and he’s the only thing that makes meetings with Sebastian bearable.
I snicker at Frederick’s response to my crude question, especially in this classy establishment of marble with black and gold accents and white concrete floors. “I know I’m a little early.”
“That’s okay. It just means we can chat until Mr. Johnson arrives to whisk you away,” he says with a wink.
“Exactly.” I grin. “How’s the hubby?”
Frederick opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by the approaching sound of dress shoes clacking against the hard floors. Here we go.
“Selene, you’re early.” Sebastian always drags out the ‘E’ at the end of my name, making my skin crawl.
I plaster a grin on my face and turn to face him. “Hi there, Seba?—”
Holy shit. Look at that shiner in his left eye! And it looks like it hurts.
But I know better than to say anything. Sebastian is a proud human, tall with spray-tanned skin and dark blonde hair with gray streaks. He might be considered handsome, especially in his expensive gray suit, but there’s just something about him that’s off to me. It makes me wonder if he didn’t somehow earn that black eye.
“Umm …” I clear my throat, trying to recover from my shock. “How are you this evening?”
“Better now that you’re here,” he responds with a grin that makes me feel like some sort of trapped prey. “Shall we go over the final logistics?”
Frederick grabs a pen and his black canvas notebook he takes with him wherever he goes. “Ready, sir.”
Sebastian’s lips form a thin line. Is he displeased Frederick is joining? That would be odd. Frederick always sits in our meetings to take notes.
With a wave of his hand to follow him, Sebastian leads the way to space that my art will be displayed. It’s a decent size, allowing for five of my pieces. Excitement bubbles up in my throat and I hold back giggles as we work out the final details. And for once, Sebastian keeps his distance.
“That should be everything we need,” Frederick says with a nod, wrapping up our meeting.
Sebastian pats Frederick on the shoulder. “Excellent. Frederick, you are dismissed. I will walk Miss Luminaire to the door.”
“Oh!” I shake my head. “That won’t be necessary. I can show myself out.”
“Nonsense.” He smooths his tie. “When was the last time we talked about anything other than business?”
“Uhh …” Honestly, we haven’t, and I would like to keep it that way.
Frederick looks frantically between me and Sebastian, eyes wide. “Sir, maybe we should go over the meeting no?—”
“Tomorrow,” Sebastian snaps. “We will discuss them tomorrow.” He turns on his heel and begins walking toward the exit, leaving me and Frederick behind.
Ugh. Having no other choice, I shoot Frederick an apologetic look and follow Sebastian. I may not want to be alone with him, but I also don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. What’s a mothwoman to do?
“Are you looking forward to the show?” Sebastian asks, his tone casual. Too casual.
“I’m a little nervous,” I admit, keeping my guard up.
He snickers. “That’s to be expected. You know,” he continues, his gaze sliding to me, “many artists bring a friend or a date to help calm their nerves.”
“I know my best friend is planning on stopping by.” I smile, thinking of Jade. “She might be even more excited than I am.”
“So, no date?” Sebastian asks, slowing his step.
My wings twitch. Uh oh. I don’t like where this is going.
“Maybe.” I shrug. Hopefully, that was vague enough and sent the message that I don’t want to talk about this with him.
“Interesting,” he remarks as he rubs his chin. “A beautiful mothwoman like you with no date is interesting indeed. It’s a shame, really, that we’re in business together or I would be your date.”
Did Sebastian Johnson just come onto me? Nausea sours my stomach. How do I let him down gently?
I come to a complete stop and turn to face him, my eyes widening. “That’s really … uh … sweet and I appreciate the thought, but you’re right. Better to keep it professional.”
Something venomous flashes in Sebastian’s eyes. I take a step back. What the fuck was that?
But the poison in his gaze dissipates and he throws back his head and laughs. “Of course, of course. My apologies.”
We continue the trek to the exit in silence, but whenever I glance at Sebastian, a cocky half-grin is on his lips. I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but I want to punch him in the other eye. It’s a real shame that whatever led to him getting a black eye didn’t put him in his place.
When we finally reach the double doors, I pause for a brief moment to wave to Sebastian. “Thank you for everything. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“Of course.” He smirks. “It’s always lovely to see you.”
I let out a monotone laugh, desperate to get away from the human, but also terrified of offending him. Inhaling deeply, I push open the doors and step out into the humid Nashville night air. Once the doors click behind me, I relax and release my breath.
Thank the goddess that’s over. But despite being free from that weird interaction with Sebastian, a sense of dread settles in my chest.