Josh steps to my side. “Time is ticking.”
I push to my toes and kiss Nick. He cups my head and kisses me again, this time with a sexy slide of tongue. We share a smile and I join Josh, who looks more than a little irritated, but any thought that he might voice that irritation is quickly sidetracked. Almost instantly, within a few steps, we’re intercepted by one of the show’s sponsors who wants me to meet another sponsor out on the party floor. It snowballs from there, though not many of the meetings feel important. I search for Nick, and occasionally find him in the crowd, sharing a small smile with him.
This continues for a full hour before Josh points at a small standing table that is now free. “Let’s talk,” he says, as we claim our spots across from each other, his fingers thrumming on the wooden table. “I hate to do this here, but it’s important, since the rest of the weekend will be open to the public. And it’s clearly a challenge to get you away from Nick ‘fucking’ Rogers.”
“Nick ‘fucking’ Rogers is supportive of me and you. He rented the bungalow in the hotel with the thought that you could invite clients for a private party this weekend.”
He ignores the offer. “You painted him.”
“Yes. And obviously it was a good decision. Every person we met mentioned that painting.”
“The painting is good, but as your agent, I see a habit.”
“Habit?”
“Things become bigger than your art. Macom. The winery. Nick.”
“You and Macom made him bigger than me.”
“That’s not true,” Josh says. “He was my client before you. I was trapped in your own submission to him. And now it’s happening with Nick. You didn’t want to leave him to meet people.”
“He’s my guest and inspired me to paint again. He helped me get a grip on the winery.”
“And there it is. I told you. He fucks you and uses you. He wants the winery.”
“He does not want the winery.”
“Make sure before it becomes a devastating realization that shoves you into a corner again. Because we’re going to get offers. I don’t want either of us to look like fools. Better yet, sell the damn winery, Faith. It’s a distraction. You’ve made eighty thousand dollars in two weeks. More will follow.”
“The winery isn’t a distraction,” I say, though those words might be a bit half-hearted. “Additionally,” I add. “I moved to San Francisco and I’m working at the Allure Gallery, with Chris and Sara Merit. The pay and the opportunity are both great.”
“Why am I just now finding this out?”
“You knew I was part of the gallery opening.”
“Why am I just now finding this out?” he repeats.
“I don’t want Chris used to move my career ahead,” I say, only now admitting that very real concern. “Chris and Sara are my friends. Promise me.”
“I’ll talk to Chris—”
“No. No, you will not. Promise me.”
His lips tighten. “I promise.” He is silent for several beats before he says, “We’re friends. I care about your success. Come to L.A. in a couple of weeks. Alone. Let’s do some career planning.”
Nick’s warnings ring in my head, driven home by the way he’s kept me far away from him tonight. “Are we too personal, Josh?”
“I care. Most people want an agent that cares.”
“But are you too personally involved with me?”
“We’re friends.”
“Macom is your friend.”
“You are too, Faith. And I’m the best damn agent out there. You need me. I deserve you. I’ve ridden the highs and lows with you. You don’t get to leave when you have some success or when I push too hard. We’re a team. Agreed?”
He’s right. He has stuck it out with me. “Yes. But you need to know that I have moved in with Nick. He’s not going away, so please treat him accordingly.”
“You moved in with him,” he states flatly.
“Yes. Please treat him—”
“Understood,” he says, glancing at his watch. “We need to get into the ceremony.”
“I am going to go freshen up,” I say, not about to let him come up with a reason to separate me from Nick for the ceremony. “I’ll see you inside.”
He studies me several beats. “Are we okay?”
“Yes. Of course.”
He gives a short incline of his head. “You need to be seated in ten minutes.” He leaves then and I turn to find a bathroom, and run smack into a hard body, big hands catching my waist. The musky scent of familiar cologne washes over me even before my gaze lifts, and I find myself looking into Macom’s green eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Faith
I push away from Macom, but he tightens his grip on my waist. “We need to talk. Let’s set a time and place.”
“Let go of me, Macom, or I will make you let go of me.”
“When the ceremony is over. I’m in room—”
“You need to be on stage,” Josh says, suddenly by my side. “They’re looking for you.”
Macom’s eyes meet Josh’s, anger crackling in their depths. “Now?”
“Now,” Josh confirms firmly.
His jaw tenses and he looks down at me. “10:10. After the show.” He releases me and fades into the crowd.
I turn to Josh. “Thank you.”
“I told him not to pull this shit, but look, Faith. For what it’s worth, he talked to me last night. He was torn up. He has regrets. He feels like a shit. He seems to just need to apologize in person and if you don’t want him, he’ll accept it.”
“He doesn’t want to apologize. He wants to make me another conquest.”
“All I can tell you is my take, and I don’t see it that way. But moving on. I’ll see you inside.” He steps away from me and there is a ceremony announcement. The crowd immediately starts moving and I end up in the crunch of bodies, a sardine in a can, as we slowly ease toward the door. Impatient, I slip my purse across my chest, and then try to find a hole to break free.
More aggressive actions work, and I push through the bustle of people with a good amount of speed. The bodies bottleneck near the door though, and I’m stuck, unable to proceed forward. That’s when a hand comes down on my arm and suddenly I’m folded into Nick’s arms. “Hey there, sweetheart.”
I smile with the realization we’re just inside the ceremony room, against the wall and out of the rush. “You saved me again.”
“I’ll always save you, but I think you know that by now.”
“I had a Macom encounter.”
“And?”
“I ran into him, literally. He took that opportunity to corner me. Josh intervened and Macom backed off. But I don’t think me avoiding him is going to work. I need to just handle him, once and for all.”
“How?”
“I need to get through this ceremony and then figure it out. Let’s sit at the back so we can escape when it’s over.”
“You sure you want to do that?”
“Oh yes. I’ve met everyone and anyone, and that’s an entirely different story.”