"I have a feeling you had a lot to do with that, too." Jess had a very good idea of Mrs. Kilpatrick's social reach.
The other woman brushed off the words but a pleased blush lit up her features.
"Let's get you to the hotel. It's eleven now so you'll have plenty of time to get ready for the opening. Richard did tell you he decided to push it back to seven?"
"Yes." Jess nodded, though she felt curiously detached from the whole thing.
"What about Gabriel? Is he taking a later flight, or flying himself up?" Mrs.
Kilpatrick unlocked the trunk of her rental car and Jess put in her small case.
"He isn't going to make it." She tried not to betray her disappointment. "He's so busy right now."
"Oh, that's unfortunate but I do know how it gets."
The drive from the airport to the hotel passed by easily enough and Jess was in her room within the hour. Soon after that came lunch at the hotel restaurant, where she met Richard for the first time.
He was as charming and as intelligent in person as he'd been over the phone and on e-mail. She found her trust in his judgment solidifying into genuine liking.
A feeling that he apparently shared if his farewell comment was anything to go by.
"My dear, sweet Jess, I think we're going to have a long and exciting relationship." Smiling, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Having a chance to nurture a talent like yours is what makes me have faith in my work."
The compliment boosted her professional confidence, but emotionally, she continued to feel off-kilter. Lost. "Thank you."
When he left to finalize things at the gallery, she went back up to her room and hung out the dress she planned to squeeze into for the opening. The red dress, rich as wine and dark as blood. It was already almost too snug with the way her body was changing, so this would be her last chance to wear it for a while. And wear it she would. Too bad if her husband couldn't be bothered to show up.
After popping out for a quick shopping trip to pick up some things she couldn't get in Kowhai, she returned to get ready, as Richard wanted her at the gallery an hour early. The phone came to life a minute into her preparations, making her heart stutter. Maybe Gabe had changed his mind.
"Hello?"
"Jessie, guess where I am?"
The dawning smile was wiped off her face. "Damon." She sat on the bed. "Aren't you supposed to be in Hawkes Bay?"
"I was but I called home last night and heard you were having a show. I couldn't miss my Jessie's first show. My mom called someone and they called Mrs.
Kilpatrick and now I'm on the guest list." He chuckled. "I'm in Hamilton right now, should make it to Auckland before your party starts."
"What about Kayla and Cecily?"
"They're at home. Kayla didn't want to drive up with the baby."
"Of course she didn't. Cecily's too young for such a long drive."
A pause. "I thought you'd be happy. We haven't had a chance to see each other since the hospital."
"You have a wife and a child, Damon." She wondered if he was hearing what she was trying to say. "Get back in that car and go home to them or maybe Kayla will stop waiting for you."
"Like you, Jess?" The volume of his voice dropped. "Have you stopped waiting for me?"
She squeezed her eyes shut. "I'll always be your friend."
"I sure screwed up when I let you go."
"No, you didn't." He could have never made her happy, something she'd finally begun to understand. "You married a woman who loves you and you have a beautiful daughter. Don't throw that away."
Another pause. "I guess I got selfish, wanting to be loved by you, too. But that's gone isn't it?"
"Yes," she said. "It's gone." She wasn't sure it had ever really existed. And that scared her, because for her to question what had once been an absolute truth meant that something far more powerful had taken its place. Something stronger, more enduring and infinitely more real than the fading illusion of a teenage dream. "You take care of your family, Damon."
"And you be careful, Jessie. He's not-"
"Shh." She shook her head-some loyalties were set in stone. "Have a safe trip home."
He didn't bring up the subject again. "I hope you become rich and famous."
Hanging up, Jess dove back into her interrupted preparations. If she didn't think about what had just occurred, about her devastating insight into the nature of her feelings for Damon, she wouldn't have to consider the reason behind it … wouldn't have to look into the vibrant heart of an emotion so raw and potent, it eclipsed everything that had come before.
Jess walked into the gallery feeling like an imposter. Taking off her coat to hang on the coatrack, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging near the entrance. The color of the dress went beautifully with her hair, but it was the way the fabric hugged her body that was truly extraordinary.
She should have felt sexy and confident, yet she couldn't help but think that the man she most wanted to see her wasn't going to be here tonight. She wasn't important enough for him to bother. Pain cut rivers into a heart she'd tried so desperately to harden.
"Jess!" Richard's face lit up the second he saw her. "You look ravishing." He offered her his arm.
She let him lead her into the gallery space. "Should I have tried for a more arty look?" All three of his assistants were wearing head-to-toe black, though Richard himself was dressed in a beautiful dove-gray suit.
"Affectations like those," he whispered under his breath, "will make you blend in. And you, Jess, are meant to be a star." Releasing her arm, he settled her unbound hair carefully around her shoulders. "Did I tell you that it's a by-invitation-only shindig tonight? No starving art students who're just here to eat."
Her laughter came from the same part of her that couldn't seem to stop believing
in hope. "How much are you asking for my paintings?"
"Lots."
"Will people pay that for an unknown?"
"They'll do as I say." His eyes gleamed. "I'm offering them a chance to get in at the bottom floor with someone I predict will become huge, and I've never been wrong."
Jess expected his prediction to buoy her up, but even when the guests started arriving and more compliments began flowing, she felt strangely disconnected.
Her body might be in Auckland, but her mind was in the Mackenzie Country. The reason why wasn't something she particularly wanted to consider.
She'd just managed to extricate herself from a chatty young couple when Richard slid an arm around her waist. "If you're in the market for a rich old husband to fund your work, Mr. Matthews thinks you're a walking work of art."
"Tell Mr. Matthews that this work of art is taken."
Jess froze at the sound of that deep male voice, hardly aware of Richard's arm slipping away. And then it was being replaced by a harder, more muscular one.
Everything in her thrilled to life.
Chapter 15
Richard took a step back. "Jess, honey, tell the gorgeous shark by your side that I was joking."
Snapped out of her semi-shocked state, she smiled. "Richard, meet my husband, Gabriel."
Gabe's hand moved on her hip and she bit back a responsive gasp. "Richard."
She stood by while the men shook hands, her heart melting. She forgave Gabe everything-he'd come to support her despite having had made it clear that he was far too busy to do so. Surely that could only mean one thing.
"I see a potential sale over there." Beaming, Richard excused himself.
Jess shifted to face Gabe without breaking his hold. "You came." That was when she noticed the rigid angle to his jaw, the tension in the body pressed against hers. Her smile faded.
"What are you doing, Jess?" Something close to disappointment threaded through the anger. "Where is he?"
"Who?" Hope ebbed out of her drop by slow drop.
His expression grew darker. "Kayla is hysterical. She called me begging that I ask you not to take her husband."
She felt her face blanch. "I guess that answers the question of why you bothered to show up," she whispered, so hurt that she was numb.
"Jess, my dear." Mrs. Kilpatrick's voice was a welcome benediction. "Can I steal you away from your husband? I want to talk to you about a possible commission."
"Of course." She grabbed the opportunity to move out of Gabriel's hold. But no matter the lack of physical contact, she was aware of him on the most visceral level.