“That’s cold, Armin. Real cold.” But he was grinning, and I was anything but cold.
And your girlfriend would be upset if she knew you were getting all stupid over him.
She was upset with me anyway, and it went both ways, but that was no excuse for ogling the man who made her that insecure.
So I tore my gaze away from Marques, and I was about to say something when a shout from the back startled all three of us. At first I thought it was a cry of pain or alarm, but it was quickly followed by what I could only describe as a whoop of triumph. What the hell?
Cass straightened. “Was that…Omar?”
“He’s the only one back there,” Marques said. “I wonder what that was all about.”
Furrowing my brow, I eyed the Employees Only door, wondering the same thing. My dad was usually pretty mellow and wasn’t at all the type for loud outbursts. “Maybe he won the lottery or something.”
A second later, the door swung open, and my father burst through it, waving his cell phone around so wildly I thought he was going to throw it. It had an indestructible case on it, but there were several expensive pieces on the walls and pedestals of the lobby. I was absolutely not explaining to one of these artists that their painting was ruined or their sculpture destroyed because my dad had excitedly lobbed his Android through it.
“We did it!” he cried. “We finally did it! We’re getting a Zoe Neelan collection!”
My jaw fell open, and I nearly forgot about the phone’s potential to turn into an art-destroying missile. “Zoe Neelan? Seriously?”
“Yes!” He laughed and put his hand to his chest. “I just got off the phone with her. I didn’t think she’d ever agree to it.”
“That’s amazing!” I said. Cass and Marques were grinning too. Zoe Neelan was an incredible sculptor, and while she made her living as an artist, she detested the commercialization of art. In her eyes, art galleries were nothing more than used car showrooms for art. Dad had been trying for five years to persuade her to put a few pieces into the gallery. Today, his persistence had paid off.
“Where do you want to put it?” Marques gestured past the lobby. “Depending on the dimensions, we might have to do some serious shuffling around, so the—”
“We’ll worry about that when it gets here,” Dad said. “First things first?” He gestured at me, then Marques with his phone. “I need you boys to go pick up the collection.”
“Pick it up?” I asked. “So we’re taking the pieces from another gallery?” Oh, that would create some awkwardness. The other gallery had probably been as thrilled as we were about acquiring some of her work, and to have it yanked by a competitor? That had to sting.
“No, not another gallery.” Dad shook his head. “These are brand new, never before seen pieces. I’ll need you boys to drive up to her studio and get them.”
Marques and I glanced at each other, eyes wide.
“Drive up—” I blinked. “Isn’t her studio in middle-of-nowhere Maine?”
Dad nodded, and he grimaced apologetically. “I wouldn’t ask either of you to do this, but she refuses to trust any of the shipping companies. And she said some of the pieces require two people to move them.” He looked at both of us, his excitement dipping in favor of pleading. “You know I would never ask something like this, but…it’s Zoe Neelan.”
Aw, fuck me. I couldn’t say no to my dad for much of anything, but this? No way. There were some other employees I could suggest, but it was pointless. Garrett was such a terrible driver, no one even sent him on lunch runs anymore. Deion was a minor, so it probably wasn’t even legal to send him on a multi-day, multi-state road trip, and his parents definitely wouldn’t go for it. Katie was still on probation, so I was pretty sure she couldn’t leave the state.
Dad couldn’t go on the road himself because of some health issues, and my mom wouldn’t leave him for days on end for the same reason. Cass kept all the administrative plates spinning, so losing her for a few days while the gallery was getting ready for a big show would be a disaster.
That left Marques. And me.
What was I going to do? Say no?
I sighed. “All right. All right. Just, um… Just let me know where we need to go and when she’s expecting us.”
Dad’s excitement came back to life, and he hugged me fiercely. “You’re the best!” He let me go and gave Marques’s shoulder a firm smack. “Both of you!”
Marques smiled. “Don’t mention it, boss.”
“I’ll go get all the information.” Dad flung open the Employees Only door again and hurried into the back, throwing over his shoulder, “The sooner you boys can hit the road, the better.”
Marques and I both watched the door, then turned to each other, and his expression mirrored my uneasiness.
He recovered quickly, though, and cleared his throat. “Okay. Well.” He smiled tightly. “I guess we should start planning our trip.”
“Right. Yeah.” I glanced at the unopened boxes of flyers. “Guess you won’t have to worry about putting addresses on those.”
He looked in the direction I’d indicated, and his face lit up. “Oh yeah! Sweet. I’m off the hook.” When our eyes met, the smile faltered a little. “You, um… You cool with this? Riding with me to—”
“Yeah, definitely!” I forced a smile. “I could do without the short notice, but I’m not going to say no to him when he’s got Zoe Neelan on the hook.”
Marques laughed. “No, definitely not.” He gestured in the direction Dad had gone. “I’ve got my laptop. You want me to make reservations?”
Oh God. We were really doing this, weren’t we?
“Sure. Yeah.” I gulped. “Let me get some more specifics from Dad, and then we can sit down and plan it out.”
He smiled again. Then he disappeared into the back. I turned away from the Employees Only door and tried to remember what I was supposed to be doing with these boxes I’d brought in.
But all I could think was that Tanya was going to be pissed.
Well, more pissed.
I closed my eyes and sighed.
Yeah, tonight was going to be fun…
Chapter 2
Marques
A road trip. To Maine. With Armin Jahani.
Oh dear Lord.
Alone in my office, I indulged in a sigh of frustration. It wasn’t that I disliked Armin. In fact, it was the opposite. I liked him a lot. What could I say? When I’d first come to work for the gallery, all it had taken was one look at my boss’s youngest son for me to start tripping over my own feet. All three of Omar’s sons were gorgeous, but Armin? Holy shit. He was Persian on his dad’s side, Turkish on his mom’s, with olive skin and short, jet black hair. He also had the audacity to walk around in suits looking like someone who belonged in a magazine, totally oblivious to how many heads turned and jaws dropped when he strolled by. Plus he had the sexiest brown eyes I’d ever seen. When he smiled? Or even better, when he got a mischievous grin? Oh my God, those eyes just wrecked me every time.
And I was supposed to be alone with him for, like, a week? However long it took to get to Maine and back with that collection of Neelan pieces? Jesus. I was probably as excited as Omar about that acquisition. And meeting Zoe? Oh Lord. But I was too wound up over traveling with Armin to really let that excitement sink in.