“So, totally a sales call. You don’t know any Olivia Shade.”
“What was the gallery again?” he asked, his voice so low it seemed it made no noise.
Apparently, it didn’t.
“Come again?” she asked.
“The gallery,” he bit out. “What’s the name?”
Her head twitched. “Do you know an Olivia Shade?”
Nick leveled his eyes on her.
“No,” he stated firmly, her eyes flared and he knew she took his meaning which finally reminded him of why he’d hired her. “Now tell me the name of the fucking gallery.”
“It’s called Art,” Bernadette answered. “That one downtown. Close to Larimer Square.”
“Thanks,” he replied, turning to his laptop.
She disappeared from the door.
Nick found Art’s website and the number. He called it.
“Art, Ralphie speaking,” a man answered.
“Ralphie…” Fuck…was an adult male seriously allowing himself to be called that name? “This is Nick Sebring. My assistant—”
“Well thank goodness, Mr. Sebring,” Ralphie interrupted. “I’m so glad you called. You must have this piece. It’s fabulous and dying for a new home. Ms. Shade seemed rather taken with it for you. Though, it’s large and part of our service includes delivery and installation. So I’ve got my calendar open right here and if we can—”
“Tonight, five thirty,” Nick declared.
“Oh…well, let me see. I can—”
“Tonight,” Nick said. “Five thirty.”
There was a brief pause before, “Of course, Mr. Sebring. Tonight. Five thirty.”
“Right, do you need my address?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Nick gave it to him. Then Nick exchanged only the briefest of pleasantries before he hung up on him.
After that, he ignored the tight in his chest and went to his meeting.
* * * * *
5:57 – That Evening
“I see Ms. Shade has an eye,” Ralphie stated.
Ralphie was a good-looking but definitely gay guy who was standing beside Nick, studying the large painting that had been installed over his chest between the two arches.
Yes, she had an eye.
Jesus.
The princess could pick paintings.