Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,62
shine, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Miss—” Evan tries again.
“Take the phone.”
The voice — a low, rumbling growl — is so cold, I instantly break out in goose flesh. It takes me a minute to realize it’s Knox, who’s spoken, and when my gaze travels to his face, I see there’s something hard in his eyes. Something that doesn’t take no for an answer.
Ever.
“But—”
I barely get the word out before he’s stepping forward, snatching the phone from Evan’s grip, and pressing it into my hand. He’s so tall, my neck snaps back to keep his face in sight, and it’s all I can do not to cower at his nearness. Everything about him is lethal, dangerous, but it’s those eyes — bottomless, black, and far older than his thirty years — that really shake me, down to my very core.
“Take. The. Phone.”
“Okay,” I breathe, my fingers closing around the cool metal in my hand, not wanting to be the subject of that gaze for another stinking second.
He nods, turns for the door, and disappears outside without another word.
“Don’t mind him,” Evan says, the easy smile still on his lips. “His bark is worse than his bite. Most of the time, anyway.”
With that, he winks, turns, and follows Knox out the door, leaving me alone with a new phone and a thousand questions I know I’ll probably never get the answers to.
Chapter Nineteen
Venom
I’ve barely made it through my front door when my cellphone — my old one, not the new, shiny one I have no intention of ever using — starts ringing. Closing the door behind me with a sigh, I reach into my bag, fully expecting to see Chrissy’s name on my screen. No doubt she’s just gotten pinged with a considerable number of Google Alerts.
But, to my horror, it’s not Chrissy.
It’s Estelle.
Damn it all to hell, I’m probably going to be fired for cutting out of work early, two days in a row. Which is perfect considering everything else in my life is falling apart — why not my career, as well?
“Estelle, I’m so sorry,” I say, as soon as the call connects. “I swear, I had a good reason for not coming back to work after the VIP meeting. It won’t ever happen again. Please, just don’t fire me.”
“Fire you?” she asks, sounding genuinely surprised. “Why on earth would I fire you?”
“Um…”
Is my brain short-circuiting?
“Ma chérie, I’m calling to congratulate you.”
Wait… what?
“I don’t know how you did it, but the VIP from yesterday called an hour ago and purchased an entire spread of abstracts!” Estelle laughs delightedly. “He says they’re redoing the entire executive suite at Croft Industries, and he’d love nothing more than to adorn the walls with our artists’ work.”
My stomach sinks as I realize Chase’s angry words in the elevator had been no idle threat.
I’ll buy however many goddamn paintings you want! I’ll buy the whole fucking collection! But Brett is not your client, anymore. Do you understand me?
“There’s been a misunderstanding, Estelle—”
“And then, almost as soon as I hung up the phone, a very large man with a very interesting scar came to the gallery with a huge bouquet of flowers for you! Red roses — just lovely, the whole gallery smells divine. Apparently Brett Croft, the VIP from this afternoon, was so pleased, he thought you needed an extra thank-you for your services!”
I’ll bet he did.
“I don’t know what you said, but you certainly must’ve made an impression.”
“Estelle—”
“And you didn’t even tell me about the three abstracts you sold him!”
“Well, Estelle, like I was trying to explain—”
“Excellent work! Truly,” she interrupts me. “Gemma, ma chouchoute, I’m so pleased, I’m giving you a few days of paid time-away. You’ve been working hard, and it’s clearly paying off.”
“But, Estelle if you’d just let me—”
“No objections!” Her tone is final. “You’ve been begging me for some personal days for ages. What is the expression you Americans use? Don’t look at a horse’s teeth?”
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” I correct, my voice resigned. “But, Estelle, we really should talk about the reason Croft Industries—”
“Au revoir, Gemma! See you on Monday.”
The line goes dead in my ear and I slowly pull the phone away, staring at it like it might provide some answers. And then it hits me.
It’s only Wednesday night.
Which means I have a four, full days off — something that hasn’t happened in all the years I’ve been working for Estelle. And that is cause for some serious celebration.