“I burned a note.”
He gives me a weird look, because that’s a weird fucking thing to do. “Cameron paged me.”
“He mentioned you were in the building. This is a nice surprise.”
He shrugs. “I was looking for Sam.”
Alex and I go back to business school. He was my friend first, but he’s closer to my brother now. Just like Grace, just like everyone. “He’s not here. He’s working at his girlfriend’s house outside the city this week.”
“Hazel’s great, isn’t she?” There’s a challenge in Alex’s eyes.
I nod. Is she? I should know that. Grace probably likes her. I don’t think we’ve exchanged five words. “You looking for Sam, was that business or something personal?”
“Somewhere in between.” He doesn’t elaborate. They’ve cut me out of a lot of things over the past two years.
I haven’t been pleasant to be around.
He stretches his arms wide, his blazer falling open to reveal a Headstones band t-shirt. “What did you want?”
“I’m taking a leave of absence. Quietly. Sam doesn’t know.”
Alex’s eyebrows hit the roof. “Everything okay?”
No. “Yeah. I just need a break. I’m wondering if you might be able to field the venture capitalist meetings for a week or two.”
When we graduated business school, we both came to Bay Street. I started as a trader at my father’s firm. Alex went into consulting, rising rapidly through the ranks because he had a knack for efficiency and delivering bad news with a smile.
When Sam was arrested, he left consulting and came on board as a trustee here. It was supposed to be for a year, until I could prove to the regulators we were on the up and up. And then he surprised the shit out of us by wanting to stay on, part time, because the fucker had gone and written a kids’ book.
He’s now an author most of the time, who sometimes roams the halls here and makes brilliant investments in companies he likes.
“I can clear my calendar,” he says easily. “Can I use your assistant while you’re away?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I snap. “I’ll be at home. It’s a ten-minute drive.”
He gives me a bland, your bark doesn’t scare me look. “So that’s a yes, Cameron is mine while you decompress?”
“Sure.”
“Is this about Grace’s show?”
I frown.
Alex groans. “It’s in two weeks, Luke, don’t tell me you don’t know about it. She’s really excited.”
I know about it. A new wave of sick feelings twist inside me. “It’s not about her show,” I grind out.
His neutral expression drops, revealing an uncharacteristic slice of raw anger. “Good. Because Sam told me you weren’t happy about it.”
5
Grace
Six weeks earlier
I went from elated to deflated in the span of a short phone call with my husband, so I’m going to Sam’s to share my news with someone who actually cares about my career.
He’s on the phone with his girlfriend Hazel when I arrive and he waves me in.
I’ve brought food, so I head to the kitchen, and as I set the takeout on the counter, something catches my eye. A VIP card for The Wheelhouse. Sam? Dirty boy.
He’s right behind me, telling Hazel he has to go, as I hold up the card.
He groans. “Yep, totally fine. It’s just Grace nosing in my private business. Give me five minutes to kick her out and then I’m all yours again.”
I laugh at him. “You didn’t need to end the call on my account.”
He glowers. “What are you doing here?”
“Feeding you.”
“I have food.”
Ouch. “Feeding myself in your presence because Luke is working late, and I was lonely, then.”
“Ah.” But he looks at his phone, and I realize belatedly that I’m not welcome right now. Crap.
I should go. I don’t, because I’m feeling small and sad inside. I put on a brave face. “Call her back. I don’t care if you’re busy, I just like the hum of another person in my space.”
Then I look down at the card. Maybe if we both laugh about it… “The Wheelhouse, eh? I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type.”
“You can’t do this,” he bursts out.
I drop the card on the counter.
“I know you mean well, and I love you for it, but…I was talking to my girlfriend. That card…is because I want to go there with my girlfriend. You can’t just waltz into my house and make this awkward for me!”
Fuck. Fuck. I’m shaking as I nod. “Of course.”
“Grace…”
“No, I get it. I’ll take my food and go to the studio instead. There are usually people there all night.”
He makes a face. “I’ve gone about this poorly.”
“Probably,” I whisper. “But is there a right way to remind someone they’re tromping on boundaries? Maybe not. It’s fine. I’ll go, and I’ll text next time I’m looking for dinner company.”
I grab the food and head for the door, my pulse pounding loud in my ears.
I’m an idiot. If Sam wants to go to a kink club, that’s his personal business. Most people don’t have the same openness around sex that I do—hell, Luke doesn’t, of course his brother wouldn’t.
The elevator comes quickly, and I keep my head down as I sweep across the lobby of his building.
I’m nearly to my car when I hear Sam shout behind me.
I stop and turn back.
He jogs to a stop in front of me. “I’m sorry, I reacted badly. Do you want to come back upstairs? Or do you want company at the studio?”
There’s something in the way he says it, like I could maybe ask him for anything, that I try again, my second attempt to impress a Preston man today. “Actually, I want to show you something. If you’re game?”
And because he’s awesome, he gives me a broad grin and tells me to take him anywhere I want to go—which is an art gallery on the edge of the fashion district.
The parking spot right in front is free, so I slide into it. Then I swallow around the sharp bundle of nerves in my throat and tell him my news.
“I’m going to have a show here next month. I told Luke about it today, and he said, and I quote, ‘As long as my name isn’t attached to it.’ Can you believe him?”
Sam makes a face like, yes, he totally can believe that about his brother. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” I turn the car off. “Come on. I have a key.”
I lead him through the current exhibit to a door, which leads to a back room. This is the staging area for our show, which will be installed in a few weeks. Sam looks around, taking in the mishmash of work. My sculptures, some metalwork designs, and some paintings, too.
“This is…a joint show? Next month?” Sam asks.
I nod. “Alex put me in touch with a local patron, who was already helping the other two artists get this show off the ground. When Alex mentioned that I used to work in the gallery world, and might have a few pieces I could contribute, I…well, I jumped into the deep end. I didn’t know I wanted this. I thought my online business was enough, but there’s nothing quite like a show, Sam. I’m…”