I Think We Missed Our Turn - L.A. Witt Page 0,1

after raving about the featured artist’s work, added that if any of the masters were alive today, they’d be falling all over themselves to have their work on the walls of Jahani Fine Arts. That was probably hyperbole, but no one was going to turn down an endorsement like that.

The Employees Only door squeaked open, and I turned, expecting my dad, who’d been eager to see everything I’d designed for this show.

But it wasn’t him, and my heart did a little flip as all my earlier frustration vanished.

Closing the door behind him, Marques smiled that ridiculously cute smile as he gestured at the box. “Is that the stuff for the next show?”

Box? Stuff for the next show? Oh. Right.

I nodded and handed him the flyer I’d been holding. “Yep. Hot off the presses.”

“Sweet.” He took the flyer and looked it over, and I did not let myself look him over. I didn’t really need to. I’d long ago memorized him, from his beautiful dark skin and darker eyes to the way every piece of clothing he wore seemed to be tailor made for his sculpted arms and flawless ass.

Even if I didn’t have all five-eight of him committed to memory, I didn’t need to be staring. He was, after all, one of my dad’s employees. And more to the point, I wasn’t exactly single.

Tanya and I were both pretty open about not only checking people out, but pointing them out to each other. Hell, maybe that was why I was so reluctant to leave. Where was I going to find someone who didn’t get jealous or possessive if I so much as looked in someone else’s direction? Tanya believed wholeheartedly in the idea that just because you were on a diet didn’t mean you couldn’t read the menu, and some of my better memories of us had involved surreptitiously comparing notes on some hot stranger who’d walked by.

But Tanya did have a jealous bone when it came to Marques, and only when it came to Marques. Didn’t matter that he had a boyfriend. Didn’t matter that he and I had agreed years ago—long before I’d even met her—that we were better off as friends. I could whisper fantasies about any other man while she and I were fooling around and she’d be turned on as all hell, but just mention in passing that I’d been in the same room as Marques? Watch out.

God. I’m so tired.

“These look great.” Marques met my gaze, snapping me out of my thoughts as he handed back the flyers. With a wry look, he added, “Ten bucks says your dad’s going to have me hand-addressing all of these for the next day or two.”

I laughed despite the fluttery thing my stomach did whenever I saw him. “Well, that’s what you get for having legible handwriting.”

“He’s right,” Cass said. “You’d be amazed how much you get let off the hook in this job just by having crappy handwriting.”

Marques tsked and rolled his eyes. “See, this is the kind of shit y’all are supposed to tell me when I get hired. I could’ve written with my other hand or something for a while.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but then Dad might’ve pawned all that stuff off on us. So we just let you take one for the team without even realizing it.”

“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