We entered the gallery and were almost immediately hit by a wall of people. I stuck close to Gray so that we wouldn’t lose each other in the crowd. This artist seemed like a popular up and comer, with the gallery packed for their opening showing.
Of course, the gallery wasn’t nearly as fancy as the ones I’d been to in New York City and D.C., with A-list celebrities and Wall Street bankers lining up to take in the art and even buy some of the artwork for thousands or millions of dollars. For Detroit, it was clearly drawing an elite crowd, what with people having dressed up really fancy for this showing.
To one of the sides was a table elegantly dressed up and laid out with platters of finger food, next to which was a small bar. People were talking, laughing, examining the pictures, with plates of food and fluted glasses in their hands. I saw a few bright stickers on the little plaques next to the pictures, indicating that that work of art had been sold.
The pictures themselves were quite striking. I liked the artist’s use of natural light to achieve the effect of making something look unearthly, like it was blazing and bright. Many of the pictures also played with color or were in black and white. I was liking this artist’s work and turned to tell Gray so—only to find that he had disappeared into the crowd.
For crying out loud. I looked away from him for two goddamn seconds….
I slowly turned around in a circle, trying to find him, but couldn’t get a glimpse of my friend through the crowd. All right, fine. If Gray was going to just leave me alone like this, then I was going to get some damn alcohol in my system.
Not that it would be as good as the stuff I had at home, but oh well. I supposed that some cheap wine was better than nothing. I went to the mini bar and ordered, then took my glass and looked around the gallery.
There were lots of interesting pictures on display. There was one of a woman, with her back turned towards the camera, her hair falling in waves. The photo was in monochrome, creating shadows and strips of light with the woman’s hair, making it seem like a whole world existed within it. It was mesmerizing. Oddly, the woman also seemed familiar.
You’re just seeing things, I told myself. I’d been thinking about Laura nonstop. So, of course, now I thought that I was seeing her everywhere. She was just on my mind constantly.
I took a sip of the wine and choked, nearly spitting it back out before I composed myself and swallowed it with disgust. Jesus Christ, it was crap. I looked around for a place to set my glass down, when I saw in the crowd—
Laura.
I had to blink twice to make sure that I wasn’t seeing things. I wasn’t. Laura was there—right here in the gallery—standing next to a large photograph of a tree. The photo’s composition and light were fantastic, giving the tree a sense of magnificence and solitude.
Quickly, I put my wine glass down on a table and walked over to her.
Laura heard me coming and turned, her eyes widening as she saw me. My heart was pounding. I wondered if she was about to flee.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out, completely taken by surprise.
She looked beautiful. She wasn’t as dressed up tonight, but she still looked breathtakingly beautiful in a flowy dark green blouse, too fancy for the office but perfect for an evening event, her black pencil skirt and a cute pair kitten heel ballerinas.
Laura shrugged, her armor sliding into place. “I have the greater right to ask you that question, since I actually live here,” she snapped.
I bristled, anger coursing through me. I grabbed her arm to pull her outside.
“Don’t touch me!” Laura snapped, louder this time, and she jerked her arm back.
Several empty wine glasses that had been left on a table by the attendees went crashing down to the floor, shattering and spreading glass everywhere.
A server hurried over with a broom and dustpan to clean it up. People began to stare at our direction with incredulous expressions.
“You’re behaving like a child,” I snapped.
The fury in Laura’s eyes was unparalleled and I realized that I’d taken it a step too far. Before I could speak, she replied, “Seeing as one of us is actually raising a child, I think I know better than you do about how children really behave. You have no right to grab me, no right to be violent.”
“I wasn’t…” I started, and then faltered. Grabbing her to yank her outside wasn’t exactly what one would call a gentle touch.
Laura arched her eyebrow, sardonic in victory.
A flash to my left startled me, and I realized that people were taking pictures of us now. Of course, they would do that. This was probably fun to watch, the juicy drama, and maybe one or two people recognized me. Shit.
“We need to go outside,” I said, keeping my voice low.
Laura glanced around, seeing what I saw, and then marched past me without a word.
I followed, ready to settle this once and for all. I was through with playing games.
26
Laura
“I’m done with playing games,” Cade said, his tone dripping with judgment when we stepped outside, like I was a child, and he was the adult.
“Rich, coming from you,” I snapped, turning around to face him. “You’re the one playing games. You sent a private investigator after me, showed up at my doorstep unannounced, and demanded the right to see your son when you haven’t proven at all that you want to be in his life. You couldn’t even respect my privacy, so how could I expect you to respect him?”
My anger was the only thing keeping
