Chapter 4 #2
I rub my hands on my jeans, feeling like I’m sullying the place just by being here. It doesn’t do much to shift the dirt from my sweaty palms and I make a mental note not to touch anything.
“Hello?” I call out into the empty space, hovering near the front door.
That older couple wouldn’t have left the gallery unattended, would they? I’m pretty sure they’re the owners. I recognized them from the website; their photos were alongside Caroline’s.
“Be right with you!” a familiar voice calls back, and my heart rate ticks up a notch. It goes up another ten when Caroline rounds the corner from the back, stopping short when she sees me. Surprise lights her eyes. “Miles.”
She’s wearing this oversized, cozy turtleneck sweater-dress thing that seems to surround her in a glow of creamy fluff. It’s short—like a miniskirt—and her smooth, bare skin peeks out over thigh-high brown leather boots.
Jesus, those boots.
Her hair is down, glossy blonde ringlets falling around her shoulders.
Stop staring like a dickhead and speak.
“Hey,” is all I can think to say, still trying to process seeing her again, never mind those sexy fucking boots.
“Uh, sorry, it’s probably weird of me to just show up here outta nowhere, but I, uh—” I swallow, then breathe through a smile as I try to think of how to explain.
Somehow, I saw a rumor we were a couple and then low-key stalked you online doesn’t quite make the cut.
“You saw the article.” It’s not a question.
“I did, yeah. Well,” I hedge, “pretty sure the whole town saw it.”
Caroline lets out a heavy sigh. “I assume the internet filled you in on my family, then?”
“And where you work.” I gesture at the wall of paintings next to where she stands, then rub at the back of my neck. “Didn’t have your number or anything, but I’m working across the street, so I thought I’d, uh…”
Fuck, this is awkward.
She nods slowly as the silence hangs between us. At least she doesn’t seem uncomfortable about me stopping by.
Thank God.
“You wanna come in? You look like you’re about to run away any moment, standing in the doorway like that.”
I laugh, glancing outside. “Not gonna run. Promise.” Taking a few tentative steps forward, I peer around the gallery, stuffing my hands in my pockets as I inspect another painting without really taking it in. “So, you’re some fancy famous girl, huh?”
She lifts her eyes to meet mine. “No, I’m not.”
I tilt my head, giving her a look. “Says the girl getting followed by the paparazzi.”
“Okay, I know, it’s weird. But what am I supposed to do, tell everyone I run into, including some random man I met at the gym, that they might end up being political gossip fodder just for speaking to me in public?”
“I mean…” my lips curl up at the corner, “speaking as the random man in question… that actually might’ve been a helpful heads up.”
“Are you kidding?”
I only shrug.
“Anyway, this whole thing is more about my dad than me. My family’s been under a lot of scrutiny lately. Because of the campaign.”
“So, we stirred up some shit.” I try to look charmingly apologetic, not liking the idea that she might be in hot water because I tried to help her out. “On a scale of one to ten, how much did this fuck up your week?”
“Well…” she hedges, her face pinching.
“Oh, damn.” My eyebrows shoot up. “How bad is it?”
“My dad… wasn’t thrilled,” she concedes, then, when she notices my surprise, rushes to add, “but it’s not about you. I won’t bore you with the details.”
Her caginess is only making me want to know the dirt, though. I’ve always hated secrets. I lift my chin. “C’mon. Try me.”
The front door pulls open, sucking a gust of air out with it. The older couple from earlier step inside, holding to-go cups from the cafe a few doors down.
“Can we help you?” the woman asks, sizing me up with obvious concern. “Is the water getting shut off again? Because, honestly, the disruption—”
“No,” I say, holding up a hand. “That’s, uh… not why I came by.” I cast an uneasy glance at Caroline, who looks apologetic, before facing the older woman again.
“The power then?” She throws her free arm out at her side. “How are we supposed to run a business under these conditions? This project has been an absolute nightmare! And don’t get me started on the noise!”
“Uh…”
“Did no one consider the impact on local businesses?” the man asks.
“Well,” I say, unable to stop the defensive clench in my stomach. “You could see it that way, sure, but what about the impact on the low-income families we’re building this affordable housing project for?”
“Sunny, Julian,” Caroline cuts in, elegantly diverting us from further confrontation. “Miles isn’t here about the construction project. He’s here to talk to me.”
“Talk to you?” The man fails to suppress the surprise in his voice and gives me another assessing once-over, his gaze lingering on my dirty work boots. “What on earth about?”
I try not to be obvious about rolling my eyes. It’s not the first time I’ve been judged by some snooty prick for having a blue-collar job.
“It’s actually kind of a long story,” Caroline explains. “I’ll be happy to fill you in later but, for now, do you think you could give us a few minutes?” She gestures an elegant arm toward where she’d come from earlier.
Oh, she’s good. Fancy girl’s clearly got some managerial skills.
Visibly flustered and somewhat suspicious, the couple sweep past us with their coffees, probably headed to an office or whatever exists around the corner back there.
“Sorry,” Caroline says when she turns back to me. “Where was I?”
“Uh, right.” I have to tear my eyes away when she bites her lip. “You were gonna tell me about how I got you in trouble? So, what’s the story there?”
Her brows quirk together. “How long do you have?”
I glance over my shoulder at the job site through the window. “Quick and dirty version?”
She opens her mouth, then pauses. “Okay, gosh, where do I even start? I guess the issue is—”
Something outside catches her attention, and she stops short, the color draining from her already-pale cheeks.